I am at the crossroads. I came to ask the devil to teach me to play guitar, but he’s claiming it’s all drum machines and synthesizers now.
“Drum machines and synthesizers? Isn’t that soulless.” I asked and the devil laughed.
“Soulless? You’re worried about soul in the music when you’re here to sell your own soul to learn to play guitar?”
“Whoa, wait a minute. I never said anything about selling my soul. I just wanted to learn guitar.”
“How do you think this works. You come down to the crossroads, sell me your soul and you learn to play guitar real good. I mean Robert Johnson good. Get it? How did you think it worked? How did you end up here?”
“I found your flyer in the waiting room at Jiffy Lube.”
“Oh, that flyer. Yeah, I can teach you. $20 a lesson.”
“Will I get Robert Johnson good?”
“No, but I can get you Buddy Rich good.”
“Buddy Rich was a legendary drummer.”
“Yeah, but he was a fair to middling guitar player thanks to me.”
That was nine months ago and here I am 18 lessons and $360 poorer with Satan teaching me to play “Stairway to Heaven.”