Giving it a go

The first guitar lesson. Started with the basics: What are all the bits and what do they do?  Ben had even done a drawing for me.

Okay, then.

The idea was to keep it simple. There would be no chords. “So I don’t have to fret?” He laughed. Even though it was bloody obvious, he hadn’t seen it coming. No, I did not have to fret. Phew. (I’d spent 40 minutes last week trying to follow his advice and figure out the fingering for ‘A’. I don’t know. Maybe my fingers are just too short – or I’m incapable of following what seem like clear instructions – but all I knew at the end was that whatever I was doing clearly was not right. The strings told me.)

Start with tuning. I pulled out the gizmo he’d given me with the guitar all those weeks ago and he reminded me how to use it. 

“At least I’ve mastered Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” I said. 

“Great,” he said, “play it for me.” So I did.

“That is not Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” he said. 

“Of course it is,” I told him. Hadn’t he recognised it when I sent him the file? 

“Oh,” he said, “is that what that was supposed to be?” He then proceeded to play it using both hands to include, you know, bloody chords. Okay, it sounded more like it. Bloody show off.

I’d played it the way I’ve been playing with the guitar for weeks. Like my (ha, ha) album cover.

I’d had a more than sneaking suspicion that I’d been getting into a bad habit and I had. “If you play the guitar like that,” he told me, “you are going to fuck yourself up. We need to discuss posture.” So we did. Oh, but my way is so much more comfortable. (Until I fuck myself up.) Okay. Sigh.

Moving along. “There are only twelve notes,” he said. 

“Hang on,” I said, “I have to stop you there. This whole notes, keys, chords thing is doing my head in. There are six strings. Aren’t those the notes? And, if not, what the fuck are they?” Yes, he said, those are the open notes. Oh, thank Christ. They are actually notes, but they are open notes. Presumably the ones that don’t involve fingering. Okay, I can get my head around that. (But what, I didn’t think to ask at the time, so relieved was I that I hadn’t been completely wrong, are the other notes called? Closed notes? Chorded notes? This didn’t occur to me until I got home, so I pulled out the notebook into which I was supposed to jot down whatever questions occurred to me.)

The six notes (or strings or open notes or whatever – I’m confused again already) are, from top to bottom: E, B, G, D, A and E. 

“Why are there two Es?” I asked. Because there are, seemed to be the answer. (Although then it started to annoy him a bit that he didn’t actually know.) 

There is a mnemonic for remembering notes that even I can still recall from school days: Every Good Boy Deserves Fun, as I said to Ben. (Apparently he learnt it as Deserves Fudge.) What about the guitar? He decided to make one up on the spot: Every Boy Goes Down After Eating. Yes, we did laugh about that, but I can remember it. 

Oh, crap. Just did a Google search to see if there was an official guitar mnemonic. There are lots, but they all go bottom to top, not top to bottom. For example: Eat All Day Get Big Easy and, particularly apposite, Every Amateur Does Get Better Eventually. So, do I go with the one I’d already embedded in my head? Or try to switch it over? Gah.

Even though this was supposed to be a no fret lesson, like every amateur I did eventually get curious. “Make it a simple chord,” I said. He decided on E.

Simple? If he says so. Second finger goes there, then third and fourth one on top of the other there and there. Nope. I just wasn’t getting it.

“Those fingernails have to go,” he said. Yeah, okay, I could see that. Tough to do the fingering with anything other than short nails. He handed me some nail clippers. I started clipping the nails on my left hand. “Shame,” I said, “about the nails on my right hand. Useful for plucking.” Oh, apparently I could and should keep those. It seems you can tell guitar players by their nails. Well, if nothing else, I now have guitar player fingernails.

Tried again with shorter nails. 

“YES!” said Ben. I had to take his word for it, having no idea what sound a guitar was supposed to make if you were successfully fingering an E chord. 

“Ouch!” said I. A while ago, someone commented on the calluses I could expect. Now I finally understood what they’d meant. Ouch, ouch, ouch. “Oh, yeah,” said Ben, “you’re going to lose a lot of skin.” Oh, goodie.

Here endeth the lesson. 

I have homework. I’m supposed to learn (i.e. teach myself) two more chords. He’s suggested A and D. Not sure I’ll still be able to do E again today, but I’ll give it a go.

What I’ve learnt: This is not one of those fake it until you make it situations. I cannot just nod when I am told something, pretending I get it when I actually don’t and am simply hoping that, at some future point, it will all magically make sense. I have to admit I am totally clueless. There are no stupid questions. Ben can’t help me if I don’t ask for the help I need. Asking for help does not come naturally to me. I’ll give it a go.