A place to practice

I have an acoustic guitar sitting in a dust-covered case in my basement. A few years ago, after receiving it as a gift from my mom (who used to play me James Taylor and Beatles songs on her 12-string when I was a wee lad), I slung the guitar over my shoulder and prepared for my first video lesson. Then the strap broke free and the guitar smashed onto the basement floor. I can still hear the sound it made: a sharp CRACK that echoed throughout the hollow instrument, accompanied by the out-of-tune vibrations of the strings.

Fortunately, it still works, despite the cracked hull, but I haven't found the motivation to pick it up since. I've wanted to learn since I was a kid -- hence, the gift -- but that childhood fascination hasn't led to adulthood proficiency, with the guitar or any other instrument.

My kids, on the other hand, really enjoy their piano lessons. My daughter, who has been playing for more than two years, has chosen her first project from the new Christian piano book she just received and my son, according to his instructor, is "a natural." Go figure.

For practice time at home, the kids had been using my old childhood keyboard but, coming full circle, my mom got the kids a brand new keyboard for Christmas with so many more bells and whistles than my trusty Casio ever had.

The kids will walk by the keyboard, which sits on our dining room table, and almost without thinking, they'll stop, flip it on and start fiddling with the keys. Sometimes they'll play parts of a song they are working on in their lessons, other times they'll make up their own random tune. My son has even written a few short songs of his own. I can already hear the record labels calling.

My passion for music may not have led to a rock 'n' roll career for me, but I love that my kids seem to have a similar love of music. Unlike their old man, though, they are actually using it.

Maybe they'll teach me one day.