HP Rocks Out

It turns out that I possess a hidden musical talent that's been buried for the past 30 years, patiently waiting to acknowledged so that it can grow and bloom.

Last night I was helping 46 find some songs to play for an upcoming gig. Browsing through his collection of music books, I find myself staring at the sheet music for Sunshine of Your Love by Cream.

"This song," I sighed "makes me want to take up the guitar. I love the opening notes."

"It's not very difficult," says 46. "Here, take my guitar and I'll show you how to play it."

I take the instrument and lay it across my lap, he shows me which frets to put my fingers on. We go over the first three notes, which I play several times, before moving on to the next three, and finally the three after that. I don't hit the strings perfectly every time, in fact, sometimes I hit the wrong one altogether. Sometimes I forget a note and declare my desire to give up. 46 ignores my protests.

"Give up? Are you kidding? You're a natural. Look how easily you're picking this up and how much you're getting into it."

He's right. When I can manage to remember the notes, I'm golden. As I hit each one, my torso sways along with my almost perfect rhythm. I am recreating the bravado I so cherish within those 9 opening notes. I am, dare I say it...? Rocking out.

"You think I'm really a natural?" I say shyly, 90% believing him but also thinking he may just be humoring me. "I've sucked at every instrument I've ever attempted--flute, cello, electric bass. Why would I be good at this one all of a sudden?"

Mr. 46 of course, cannot answer. He simply ells me to keep practicing. I do, until my vision becomes a little blurry and I grow tired, no longer hitting my notes with any sort of precision. I stop.

"Why'd you stop?" he asks

"Because I'm a little drunk and somewhat high, and I'm having trouble seeing the strings."

46 laughs at me.

"[HP] Every great rock guitarist has made a career of playing drunk and high. You're already well on your way to becoming a rock star."