I've mentioned before that I was in a fake band. It was fake because even though I wrote a few songs, and we learned to play a few songs, it was mostly me and my friend Sadie getting together, trying to figure out how to fit Claude Debussy, Dave Brubeck, and Jack White into one band. Also I can't sing. I can carry a tune. I can fake sing. But I can't hear music the way a real singer can. I have no idea how to harmonize, unless someone else does it for me. Oh, and I need to be wearing ear muffs. Sadie doesn't sing either. She plays the piano. You see where I'm going with this?
A couple of times we rented rehearsal space and got our drummer friend, who is in several totally non fake bands, and his friend, who plays bass, to play with us. One time Janeane Garafalo showed up just in time to watch me sing one of my embarrassing songs. That was the peak of our fame.
None of these facts stop me from buying THREE guitars, a red glittery amp, and many, many, prom dresses, from Target. I'm going to say this right now. I had band jackets made for us, for Christmas. They cost more than I can admit to spending on such a thing, and I still wear mine sometimes when I feel I need, a little je ne sais quoi. I read Lester Bang's Biography. I grilled my dad on seeing the MC5 one time in Detroit. His recollection was, that they were, very, very, loud. I wanted to eat, sleep, drink rock and roll. It's like I missed out on something in high school, and somehow at 30, I had to let this daydream play out.
Ok, so where is this going? One of the guitars I bought was a vintage 1960s red reso-glass Airline from Montgomery Ward. I found it on ebay, and bought it from a guy in Liverpool. It was SO cool. It was small, and red, and adorable, and oh yeah, Jack White (my hero) played one just like it. Except of course, Jack White, can actually... you know... play the guitar... LIKE A WIZARD. SO I bought this thing and I bought a glass slide, and tried my very best to play the blues. Oh man, if I could just have played the blues. The saddest thing in my whole life, is my total inability to sing like Ella Fitzgerald, and play guitar like Jack White. Can you imagine that person? It's not me. I'm more like, if Lisa Loeb was irritated, and out of tune, and didn't have any stick-to-it-ive-ness.
So this week, as I was cleaning out the garage, emptying out the closets, rearranging everything, I realized that it's time for the guitar to go. I put it on craigslist two nights ago. Nipper Knapp and I went to see "It Might Get Loud" this afternoon, and it was awesome. It was a nice little going away party for my rock and roll alter ego. Tomorrow a nice boy, who seems to know everything in the world about this guitar, is coming by to pick it up. He is a musician, who's in a real band, and he will play it, and give it the home it deserves.
I was thinking about using the money to tile the backsplash in the kitchen. The tile that the previous owner installed, makes me think of refried beans every time I look at it. I've trained myself not to look at it. But I'm thinking I might use the money on a piano. I'd love for Jack to learn how to play. We always had a piano growing up, and even though none of us ever played it, or played it well at least, there was this idea of music in the house. Maybe that's all you need.