Playing for Life

When I was growing up, I loved listening to the radio.

I remember my Mom was in charge of the device, and old time country music was what came pouring out of it. I loved many of those old songs, but of course this was before rock and roll took off.

When the Great British Music Invasion happened in the early 1960s with the arrival of The Beatles and all the rest of those wonderful bands that followed, I was mesmerized.

The music was so infectious — and made me feel great just to be young.

I instinctively knew I had to get on that train, and for me that meant learning to play an instrument and maybe join a rock and roll band. My first choice: the drums.

Why the drums? Well, you didn’t have to learn how to read music — just keep a beat.

When my Dad suddenly died of a heart attack at age 43, my Mom — left with four boys under 17 — made the decision to buy a set of drums for me and a guitar and amp for my younger brother to give us something constructive to do.

And she drove us weekly to music lessons from a part-time country-western guitar player, who often spent the whole lesson noodling on his guitar without imparting much knowledge to my brother.

And who knew virtually nothing about the drums.

Anyway, it started both of us down the road to learning to play an instrument.

I did eventually become good enough to join several incipient local rock bands in my late teens and early 20s, but nothing much came of that — except a certain amount of respect from my peers and some really fun times.

But as I entered my 20s I realized I didn’t want to be just the beat-keeper in a band. I wanted to be the one making the music.

Fortunately, I had a good friend who was learning to play the guitar, and I was able to get my own guitar and join him in that journey.

At last count, we’ve been playing together — and both continuing to learn the guitar — for the last 50 years.

And it’s not been just him. Over the years, I’ve dabbled in bands as a guitarist and played countless evenings in jam sessions with other musical friends.

And I’ve passed that love of playing on to my son, with whom I enjoy playing more than with anyone else.

Music has been an integral part of my life for more than 50 years, and I have not a single regret. It has helped me make new friends, inspired me to write and record my own songs, and given me so much pleasure and personal satisfaction.

So if you’re thinking about learning an instrument — guitar, banjo, horn, piccolo, whatever — I’d say: Do it. No matter how proficient you eventually become, you’ll never regret spending time making music.

It’s simply good for your soul.