I play in front of people once a year. Everybody’s drunk, the expectations are low, and the co-players are as bad or worse than me.
It’s always been a dream to play a set at a dive bar, but I settle for the annual spring pike trip. The six string makes the packing list along with the tuning device for the tone deaf, and the memories of being asked to stop playing Bad Moon Rising on repeat.
Guitar is a brilliant idea. I should have sent you my ’10 model pike bugs for a test run before our trip mid-June.
I still have some of the ones you sent me last year. The ’09s will be swimming.