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When I grow up ...

September 22, 2008 - Meg Alexander
I have finally discovered what I want to be when I grow up ... a musician. Yes indeed, I want to be the next Kaki King - for anyone who hasn't heard Ms. King, I encourage you to check her out. Amazing guitarist. Amaaaaaazzzzinggggg. I started playing about four weeks ago on a beat-up old thing with its neck glued back together, the bridge about to snap off, the strings set about a half inch above the neck - now that's a way to build up callouses. Already I have upgraded, and boy is she beautiful. I think it was love at first sight. So don't be surprised to see me lugging around a guitar case nearly as big as me - zip it if you were tempted to make a crack about my size. Any chance I get these days, before work, after work, in the break room at work, I find myself practicing often until my little hand feels like it could shatter. While my chord transitions are a little slow and a bit iffy at times, I'm moving right along, as many of my coworkers could tell you after patiently sitting through laborious renditions of Worried Man Blues, Minuet in G, House of the Rising Sun, Amazing Grace, Scarborough Fair, Greensleeves, Wildwood Flower ... yes, I realize I have amazing co-workers and I should probably tell them that more often.

 
 

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