Classical Guitar Can Kill You

I've been wanting to take guitar lessons again for something like 10 years, but I could never settle on a style. Should I continue with classical guitar, or take up with a slide blues guy, or just give up my soul and learn some horrid bubble gum pop series of chord progressions and sound like your local youth music minister. Ughhh...!
What I really wanted was a teacher who could interpret and work with the following rambling desires - I wanted to learn to be comfortable on the whole guitar (not just first position and the high e). I didn't want to be tied down to music like in normal classical lessons. I wanted to learn enough about the guitar to be comfortable in any style, and to feel free to noodle around on my own, play some familiar tunes, and eventually write my own stuff.
Well, today, 5 minutes into my first lesson with my new teacher -- I will call him "David" (because that's his name) -- I realised I had stumbled on to the best teacher possible -- because David is a recovering classical guitarist. He knows his stuff, having taken 6 years of classical guitar at CSUF (funny enough, we had the same teacher -- another David), but once he got out, he realised that classical guitar sucks...you can play all kinds of "esoteric" (as he put it) pieces of beauty that nobody knows (don't get me wrong -- I like listening to that myself now, and again) but you can't play anything else. Without that music, you're lost. You can't jam. You're in a musical prison.
Just like I felt. And, now I've found my key that's going to get me out of the music book and into improvisation. It's wierd how things work out like that sometimes. Now, I've got to go practice.

Toasted Multicultural Treat

Toasted and buttered English Muffin
Russian Spicy Mustard
Feta Cheese
Whole Green Chile

Mmmmmm.......

Dubious Support for Teenage Marriage

One of the many odd bits of dialogue from Breaking Away, a movie about
a bicycle racing and growing up in a small college town.

A straggly haired boy in t-sirt and bell bottom slacks meets up with
his girlfriend on the stairs in front of the large granite courthouse:

Mooch: Hi! Sorry I’m late.
Nancy: You look nice.
Mooch: Your hair looks great! What do think they’re going to ask us?
Nancy: Well, nothing we can’t answer, I suppose.
Mooch: Wonder if I have to have a job.... to qualify?
Nancy: I don’t think so. I think it’s mostly blood and relatives that they’re interested in.
Mooch: Blood and relatives? Well, that’s great. I’ve got both of ‘em.
Nancy: Aww, fudge. You know what?
Mooch: No...what?
Nancy: I only brought four dollars.
Mooch: Huh, well it’s only five. I tell you what...we’ll go Dutch..
Nancy: On a marriage license?
Mooch: Sure, why not?

30,000 Steps

Gnarled trees surrounded by fields of manzanita stand and watch as hikers like my friend and me gasp out the final half mile on the trail to the summit of Mount San Antonio. I doubt that they have much sympathy. Their twisted tortured trunks and limbs give evidence of the fierce fighting that goes on each winter.
Four and a half hours gets you to the bald head of this tough old mountain where piles of rocks seem like a sweet place for a lie down and butterflies come to bless your acheivement.
The roasted almonds and animal crackers you brought seem a lot less tempting at 10,064 feet than they did down in your living room. The Dr. Pepper that you lugged up the trail tastes divine, even though it's been thoroughly warmed in your pack.
The air is thin up on top, and so you descend, giving back the elevation gained with sweat and struggle.
Vistas unimaginable down in the urban haze tempt you to stop, but the cool crystal mountain stream two miles down the trail sings a song that your feet can't ignore.
Back at the trail head, you might look up back towards the seemingly unreachable summit and wonder...were you really all the way up there?
Old Baldy has treasures in abundance, and he doesn't give them up for free; he exacts a demanding price. But he is faithful and will repay you efforts with deep blue skies, sweet air, and memories that will bring you back.

Hmmm...is this a good thing?

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