I remember being 13, football tucked firmly between forearm and chest, and running through the house like Barry Sanders. A fake against the loveseat in the living room, a spin move off the dining room table, and a dive into the couch in the den – TOUCHDOWN.
Though I had nowhere near the physical gifts of Barry Sanders: there was soooooo much fun in pretending I did. There was an extreme amount of joy in those unrealistic daydreams.
Fast forward 24 year and I can embarrassingly admit that I still have those kinds of day dreams.
In my next life – I want to be a Rock Star. Yes, I said it. I want to be a rock star, a guitar god, a technician on the strings, a dude who walks around with his shirt open and a Gibson strapped to his back. – that’s what I daydream about.
I air-guitar in the car to Jimi Hendrix at stop lights, I nod my head in rhythm to Gary Clark Jr. as I edit photos, and I might even pull out the air guitar at the gym while listening to the White Stripes. This embarrassing ambition actually drove me to buy a guitar and amp that I still have no idea how to play.
Of all the things on my “bucket list” – being a master rock ’n’ roll guitarist is at the top of the list. The thing is: there is not time to invest in this dream. Not necessarily to be a “star” but to really, really learn how to play that guitar. There is just too much on my plate to try to add that in and commit to it. I mean you only can chase to man dreams at once or none of them will come to fruition.
Now I know you’re asking, “Isn’t this childish?” “How is this mentally helpful?”
Well I’m not quite sure how to answer that but there is something inspiring about my crimson and gold colored guitar sitting in the corner of my office. I always get an insanely weird feeling of “youth” and “hope” when I’m pretending that’s me playing “Voodoo Child.” My rock star dreams aren’t money driven or fame drive. It’s just an desire to be the master of my favorite instrument. It just intrigues me and inspires me so much that I can love something that I have no idea how to do. It’s a mental escape, relief, and my own little world. I think we all need something like this in our lives.
So I stare at the guitar in my office and tell her, “One day baby, I’m gonna’ make you cry so good, so damn good…”