Apparently, I went through a songwriting phase. I have the one in the pic below and a couple of other handwritten pages that say they are songs. One of them I remember I had a pleasing little melody for – well it was pleasant sounding to me and my younger brother fan. I thought then and still do now that my no-longer ‘little’ brother had a very good singing voice. Thing about it though, parents can be both your greatest cheerleaders and greatest dream killers, sometimes in the same look or word. My dear, devoted late mother had one standard comment anytime anyone of her kids sang a note. “None of my children can sing.” Mothers know best. I know I can’t sing to save my life, but I also know any and every desired skill can be acquired (to varying degrees of competence) in our times, if you have the will, and money to burn.
I never took singing lessons but at some point during my songwriting aspirations I did take up the guitar. In additon to books and tapes for self teaching, I enrolled in formal music lessons (in the days before fool-your-friends Apps were invented). I had an instructor from the United States who was on contract with a music school in my birth country. The first songs he taught me to play by sight were Twinke Twinkle Little Star and Redemption Song by Bob Marley. My guitar followed me when I swapped countries but I did not get to doing the music lessons I had planned to take in earnest. Somewhere in the process of adjusting, moving house and understanding the realities of North America, I lost my guitar, or maybe it went out on the kerb in error, or something like that. We became permanently separated. I may take up playing the guitar again at some future time, but for now if anyone were to ask, I’d say I am rather musically illiterate.