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Showing posts from April, 2013

The Verandah School Of Guitar

I signed up for guitar lessons only the once. The year was 1983 or 1984. I made the call, turned up on the sign-up day, and gathered in a classroom in an old Queenslander house in Holland Park in Brisbane with about two-dozen other hopefuls and waited for the guitar teaching to begin. 

I had walked the whole way from my half-house in Yeronga - about 5 km - and was glad to sit for a while.The teacher certainly looked like she knew her way around the guitar when she first entered the room.

She had raven-black hair, a tattoo on the small of her back (much more rare in those days) and wore an alarming number of bracelets up both arms from wrist to elbow.She was sexy as all get up.

Trouble was... she couldn't play guitar.

First thing she did was ask all of us, all 24, to play a piece on the guitar for the rest of the class to hear. She said it would also give her an idea of our level of development and from this she would decipher what level to start the lessons at. I just thought... she&#…