Sunday, June 12, 2011

No One Knows You When You're Down & Out

A friend recently gave me a harmonica as a birthday gift. It came with a little booklet teaching the basics. At first, I shunned the book. There is something deep inside that makes me feel that the only way to learn the harmonica is from an old bluesman in the South, not a slick little book. But since there seems to be a dearth of old bluesmen in my immediate area, I had to cave in and do a quick study of the basic principles, chords, blow out, draw in. And, I must say, my self etudes are coming along nicely.  When my housemates are gone, I summon all the broken hearted, soulful melancholy that I can and huff and puff out a blissful catharsis. I have also found that being barefoot is an  important element of my waxing harmonica skills, but that is my theory on almost everything in life.

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