“That damned screeching is driving me nuts, Shut That F****** Guitar up or I’ll set it on fire on you ” – She had said in a rather irritated tone.
Thoughts of Jimmy Hendrix with his guitar on fire plucked their way through my brain…. “It is not a screech, it is a ‘Twang” – was my indignant reply after her very untimely burst through the office door.
I had been at it full-on with guitar practice for a few hours and I guess I got carried away just a tiny, weenie bit.
“The F****** thing sounds like a dying goanna, how can you call that music?” – she asked in an ever increasing tone.
It was only then that I realized how flushed she was, her fists were closed, left foot slighly spread out a bit, the body shifting….., I jumped out of the way just as the boot swang close to my chin followed by a superb left hook that got me fair in the ear.
“Are your ears singing now? , That’s what I hear every time you play the F****** guitar, TURN IT OFF” – were her last words as she slammed the door shut and thundered her way across the hallway.
“But …how can I ever learn if I don’t put in the hours?, explain that? I need to do 10,000 hours!! ” I shouted after her.
“F***-off to the workshops” came the voices of all her friends who had obviously arrived a few minutes earlier; they were going to watch the satellite feed, lucky bastards, in South America I would have shot them,
The workshop was full of my daughter’s horse gear, a smell of manure permeated my nostrils, I kicked some gear to one side, shifted a drum, placed my amplifier on it and plugged everything in, then I turned up the volume a bit, after all, I was at the back of the house now, I could afford a burst ear drum.
I plucked and I plucked and I plucked some more, I was Hendrix, I was Slash, I was Angus, they were nothing, nothing , it was me, me, me…..
It was then that I remembered the microphone….
I started singing – “Loooong as I remember…….” , now I was Fogharty ….. “And I wonder, and I wonder….who stopped th ……….”
SHUT THE F***-UP —-
Damned Neighbours !!!!!!!!
😦
Boadicea's Chariot 
How about a practice amp and headphones? 🙂
Have you considered learning the triangle?
Reminds me of my Mother when my Father was hammering some nails in
“Can’t you wrap a bit of cloth round that bloody hammer…or your thumb”.
Keep going Indoles, I love a guitar, Jimmy H knew how to pluck; not as good as Eric Clapton, but lets face it, Clappers is the God. Layla, la la la
Django! Djanco’s the man – and he was short a few fingers on his plucking hand.
Bugrit Django’s the man!
Oh Bearsy, you know the way to girls heart don’t you. He’s the best, the very best.
At one time, Eric and I favoured the same Indian restaurant in Cranleigh. He sat one side with his mates, while I sat at the other with my son, but to me that was close to a significant religious experience! 😆
Please Don’t put ‘You look beautiful tonight’ on will you, I’ll be useless all day if you do.
Bearsy, I’m a little envious of you there.
I need my space 😦
Oh you just had to didn’t you Bearsy, I’m in heaven now……thanks.
Poor Don, I bet you were the next big thing! Don’t give up mate :