Gut Rumbles
 

November 16, 2007

I give up

Originally published December 16, 2004

I am about one more frustrating moment away from taking my fiddle out in my back yard and jumping up and down on the sumbitch until I break it to splinters. Then, I'm gonna set it on fire and be done with the cursed thing. I'm NEVER going to learn to play it worth a shit.

The got-dam thing needs frets on it, and I should be able to play it with a pick instead of a bow. I am a MUSICIAN, for crying out loud, and the best I can do with that bastard is make noises like a cat hung on an electric fence--- and that AIN'T a pretty sound.

I never learned what I wanted to do on a harmonica, but at least I can play songs folks recognize on one of those. My harmonica playing isn't bad around a campfire in the woods. Sounds pretty good when there's nothing else to listen to except bean-farts and snores.

But people want to SHOOT ME when I drag out my fiddle, and I don't blame them one bit. I want to SHOOT MYSELF every time I fuck with that thing. The more I try, the worse I get.

I give up. I suck as a fiddle player, and that is that. I could practice for another ten years and I'm STILL gonna suck. Just DAMN!!!

Vassar Clements made it look so easy...

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