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Metacognitive Blues

A couple of years ago I brought my then-new electric guitar with me when we went to visit my wife’s family in the swamps of southeast Texas. It was early in my relationship with Stella (that’s the guitar) and so I couldn’t bear to part with her for a few days.

One day I was sitting on the hardwood floors of my wife’s grandmother’s house, playing without an amp and stumbling through some blues progressions. The house is a dark and cool southern home full of antiques and memories that go back almost a century and really not a bad place to be.

Sitting next to me was a young kid – my wife’s cousin’s son – who was about four or five. He was listening, and watching my fingers work the strings, bobbing his head up and down, and basically doing his young kid’s version of grooving. Finally, he said, “That’s a very pretty violin.”

I smiled. “It’s actually a guitar.”

He nodded and said, “I know. I just don’t know how to say that yet.”

Smart kid. I did help him figure it out, though.

Published inRandom Stuff

5 Comments

  1. That’s hilarious. Kids are cool, they always think of the coolest stuff to say. Pronunciation is overrated anyway, his wit will carry him much further than proper diction.

  2. Hi James
    I just thought it was funny that you cosider that part of Southeast Texas “the swamps”…I really got a charge out of that. To us backwoods folk,we consider the area in which your wifes grandmothers house is, “in town”-lol
    As Always: Jeff
    your wifes Cousin from the swamps.(smile)

  3. Hi Jeff, thanks for visiting. It seems very swampy down there when you’re coming from this part of TX. That’s actually one thing I like about being down there; it all looks so different to me. Thanks again for coming around these cyber-parts.

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