All it took was a single look through the music shop window and Tommy was eaten up with it—optimism.
Everyone knows that chicks dig the guitar player. Now Tommy could see why—they’re digging the guitar, not so much the player. He scrimped and saved, begged and borrowed, then finally adopted that sexy green Stratocaster.
“It looks good on the stand,” Dad was fond of saying. “But that thing ain’t gonna play itself.”
Tommy wasn’t so sure.
Lessons were a drag. Tuning was impossible. And the strings simply mutilated his fingertips. But Tommy looked damn good wind-milling in the mirror.
Surely that’s ‘Diggable’?
If you act like a guitar player and look like a guitar player–well, then, there are many who might think you ARE a guitar player. At least your character convinced himself that he was one. Nice little story to point out human nature.
Thanks, Bobby. In my many years of guitar playing I’ve had to resort to a lot of acting like one and looking like one! Appreciate the kind words.
Think it, do it, be it… You did it as a guitar player and you’re doing it as a writer. Nice piece of writing.
Much appreciated, b.
Your words made music. A great read!
Thanks, Gena. That made my morning.