I Got the Music In Me

(Source)

A number of titles for this post ran through my head before I settled on what you see above:

• When I was young...
• In the days of my youth...
• I've got another confession to make...
• usw*

In junior high school I had delusions aspirations of being a rock musician. Purchased a guitar and everything. (Well - another confession - Ma & Pa Sarge bought the guitar for me. The paper route really didn't bring in enough filthy lucre to finance my rock and roll fantasy. Which would also have been a nice post title.)

It was a six string acoustic, very nice, very "inexpensive," in fact it still inhabits a closet somewhere at Chez Sarge. Provided of course The Missus Herself hasn't jettisoned it. She will throw things out which appear to have no useful function. I can't tell you how many times I've woken up next to the trash cans out by the curb.

Ahem...

The guitar itself was in pretty sad shape last time I looked, poor thing has far too many years on it. Sat at the ancestral homestead for many a year while I manned the ramparts of Empire, no one was playing it if I recall, maybe my brother The Musician played it on and off, but he's really picky about his instruments. (Once upon a time Ma & Pa Sarge gave him a mandolin for Christmas, he remarked that the instrument was poorly made and cheap. Ma & Pa Sarge were a bit pissed, the mandolin was returned to the store. When inquiring what gift he could expect instead of the mandolin, I seem to recall Pa Sarge mentioning "Not killing you for upsetting your mother." He may remember it differently.)

Anyhoo.

So yeah, two of my buddies and I decided to form a band. One of them would be the drummer, as he actually played the drums and had his own kit this seemed very logical. But I was pissed at him anyway. For back in the day, might have been elementary school, but was probably the first year of junior high (what some call "middle school" in these high falutin' modern times), it was decided that everyone would learn to play a musical instrument.

"Everyone should write down what instrument they want to learn." decreed the music teacher, a guy with a bow tie as I recall, not that I'm judging anyone mind you.

Of course, all of the boys wrote down "drums." Well, except this one kid who actually wrote down "clarinet." Which was the choice of most of the girls, when they weren't choosing flute of course. Again, not judging, but back then that's what most girls wanted to play. Well, there may have been one girl who wanted to play the saxophone. She was pretty cool.

At any rate, the bow-tie-clad music man decreed that not all of us boys could play the drums. When we inquired as to "why the hell not?" the real reason for all of this was revealed. It wasn't an attempt to teach we chilluns to play an instrument, nope, not at all. It was to fill the band, the high school band, eventually, after we'd learned to play. So only one drummer was needed, and the aforementioned buddy of mine was the lucky one. I so wanted to play the drums. (I think my Dad actually gave thanks to the Deity when I announced that I would not be playing the drums any time soon. I now understand why.)

To finish this particular thread, I was "voluntold" to play the trumpet. Said instruments could be purchased at a reasonable discount through a deal the school had with the local musical emporium. I was a bit excited at getting a nice shiny new trumpet. Alas, it was not to be. Seems the neighbors across the street had an old cornet (similar to a trumpet, not a cavalry subaltern if that's what you were thinking) and why yes the young pre-Sarge could indeed borrow it for his musical endeavors.

I was not very good on the cornet, probably would have been terrible on the trumpet as well. Even Dobbs sounded better than me...

Sigh.

My "prowess" on the cornet might have explained Pa Sarge's reluctance to spend money on a guitar. But Ma Sarge, being an incredible singer and rather musically inclined, insisted. So guitar in hand, I learned a few chords, and we formed a "band."

As my buddy Phil knew more chords, could pick a tune out, and had a nicer guitar, he got to be the lead guitarist and singer. While I didn't suck at back up vocals, letting me sing lead, or by myself would have probably killed our little band aborning. Lead guitarist, rhythm guitarist, and a drummer, t'would be all we needed. Two things went wrong...

Jerry, our putative drummer, wasn't allowed to bring his drums to our practices, bloody things cost a pretty penny dontcha know? Why he can just drum on a sofa cushion or the like. So with that, and the lack of a bassist, our percussion section was a trifle weak.

Then there was Phil's love affair with The Monkees. While I liked them well enough, they weren't The Beatles or The Rolling Stones or any of the half-a-hundred other bands out there. The Monkees, for those who don't know, were "crafted" by Hollywood. (To cash in on the success of The Beatles' two films is how I recall it.) From my understanding, not a one could play an instrument when they starting filming that show. Sure they learned, but to quote the film, they weren't bona fide!

We went back and forth on the whole Monkees/Beatles thing for weeks, all the while slowly learning songs. Mostly Monkees with a couple of Beatles tunes as a sop to moi. But we didn't sound right, what with Jerry's thumping on cushions, my four or five chords, and Phil's eight or nine chords and the occasional slow riff.

That's when Phil suggested that I should take up the bass guitar.

"Uh Phil, I don't have a bass."

"No problem, just play the bass bits on your six string."

Which I got pretty good at, but still, we didn't sound right. Meanwhile I was agitating on the home front for a bass guitar purchase to be subsidized by Ma & Pa Sarge. "We can't afford that!" I was finally told one day, even though I knew where I could get a bass and a small amp for pennies, so to speak. (More pennies than I had but much cheaper than brand new.)

I was told, "We'll think about it."

Only to come home the next day to see Pa Sarge's brand new eight track player with a whole bunch of eight track tapes to play upon it. Ma Sarge figured I'd be miffed, and she was right, but I realized that after all, it was Pa Sarge's money, not mine.

The band died shortly thereafter. Phil and I had a spat over the whole bass guitar thing, seems that Ma & Pa Sarge were kind of willing to foot the bill for a school field trip to Germany with the language club, for to speak the Deutsch with real live Germans. Phil suggested that I forego the field trip and spend the money on the bass. Ma & Pa Sarge weren't amenable to that.

As it turns out, I didn't go to Germany either. But now we could listen to Pa Sarge's eight track tapes in the car AND the house. Yup, he bought another one. Again, his money, not mine. But the band was a no go.

One of my first purchases when I was working in the factory before joining the Air Force was a bass guitar. But didn't really have time to play it, factory jobs take up more time than school, and most of the guys I knew who played were already in bands with very good bass players. I was simply "okay."

"But pre-Sarge, can you sing?"

"Uh yeah, we'll call you."

Anyhoo, I went into the Air Force, did a lot of jamming with a few guys on Okinawa, playing the bass (and not singing). Got fairly decent at it. Played off and on for years, mostly to records. Just to keep my hand in.

A few years back, I bought a six-string electric and a bass, got a good deal. Started playing regularly, then life happened and didn't pick up the guitars for a good ten years. Until the junior granddaughter walked into my computer room, saw the guitars and announced, "Rock and Roll!" (She's almost three.) Which prompted the senior granddaughter to ask if I could play.

"Well, I used to..."

Looking at me, very wisely and seriously (you know how seven year old girls can be) and said, "You should start again. Seriously Grampa, start again."

So I plan to. (God forbid I'm also looking at electric drum kits, just in case ya know.)

Like I said, I got the music in me...

Said song is damned near my motto these days...

Ain't got no trouble in my life,

No foolish dream to make me cry.

I'm never frightened or worried,

I know I'll always get by.

I heat up (I heat up)

I cool down (I cool down)

When something gets in my way I go round it.

Don't let life get me down

Gonna take life the way that I found it.

Yup, I got the music in me.








* usw = und so weiter, literally "and so on," German equivalent of et cetera. You knew that I would throw German at ya, didntcha?