Happy Early Birthday to Me

Yesterday I received my birthday present from Marden a couple of weeks early.  He gave me two reasons for jumping the gun - #1) He's not sure if the Army will let him be in town to properly celebrate my three-and-a-half decades, since April is a crazy month in his world, and #2) he already had it and he can't keep a secret.  I know the second reason to be a solid truth.  The boy CANNOT keep a secret when it concerns a gift.  It's unreal.  I have it on good authority that he had a carefully concocted plan to hide this item in his car, then transfer it to his office until closer to the day.  However, within 10 minutes of his arrival at home from a conference this weekend, he disappeared.  I just figured he was cleaning out his car, until I heard strumming coming from the porch.  I went to investigate, and I was presented with this:

Whoohoo!  It's a banjo!  A Deering Goodtime 5-string open-back banjo, to be exact...the very no-frills beginner model.  As I sit here typing, it's over on the couch, staring at me reproachfully, as if it's saying, "Oh geez...I got YOU?  You don't know the first thing about a banjo."  And it would be right.  I really don't know the first thing about a banjo, except that I want to learn.  I should probably go over and make friends with it, but it's very intimidating.

I mentioned to Mom that I was probably crazy for wanting to learn the banjo.  She caught me a bit off-guard when she didn't hesitate to agree. :)  Oh well, I'm no stranger to family and friends thinking I'm an odd duck...this is just the first time Mom chimed in.  In all fairness, I did ask.  It is a little nuts since I am not only still light-years from mastering the fiddle, but I seem to be collecting hobbies the way some people collect stuff.  I'm a Hobby Hoarder.  Doesn't a cable channel have a show for that?  I just realized the other day how many hobbies I have...I have hobbies I've forgotten I have until I run across the stuff for that hobby, which comes with it's own kind of guilt.  It's just that there are so many things I want to do.  I don't want to wake up one day at ninety years old, realizing that I never tried anything because I was afraid of failing or afraid of what people thought.  Regret is one of the worst feelings in the world...I hate feeling regret more than anything.  To tell the truth, I AM sometimes afraid of what people think...but I'm more afraid of the regret if I don't try to cram in as many interesting things as I can into this life.  If people think I'm a little off, so be it.  But, the truth is that I do need to pare down some hobbies, discard the ones that didn't stick, and get more serious about others.  That, however, is another blog post.

The reasons that kept me from pursuing banjo in the past included a lack of true interest, lack of money, lack of a teacher, and the fact that they're heavy and big and cumbersome, and finally - all those freaking finger-picks. Then I discovered that there are different kinds of banjos along with different styles of playing, and the banjo used in my favorite genre of stringed music - Old-Time Americana Roots stuff - most often uses the clawhammer method of banjo-ing. I don't really know the reason it's called "clawhammer", and I couldn't find a reason why, but I like to think it's because you hold your picking hand like a claw, then hammer on the strings.  No finger-picks involved.  It's open-backed, so no heavy resonator.  It's simple, and I like simple.  Once I discovered the clawhammer style and these light-weight banjos, my interest quickly went from , "eh" to "OH!." 

I'd probably never seriously considered learning the banjo if not for my Folk Alliance experience, where I learned the difference between banjos, was told repeatedly that it was one of the easier stringed instruments to learn, and was pursuaded that learning another instrument would help me understand music theory, jamming, and chording whatnot.  Even when I protested, "But I'm just starting the fiddle!", I was told that most musicians eventually pick up another instrument, and it would just fuel my drive to learn.  Once I displayed the least bit of interest, banjos were thrust into my arms and I was instructed to "mess around with it a bit."  I think they knew I'd get hooked.

I guess that's when I started mentioning banjos to my husband, and he took the hint.  Though, I really did want the waffle iron that I requested so I could make our own whole-grain waffles.  I guess he thought that wasn't a very good birthday present.  I suppose I can get a waffle iron any time...I mean, I've made it this far without one.  But, I'm super-excited, if a bit intimidated, by the prospect of getting to know this banjo.  Much more excited than if I were making waffles...although waffles are exciting, too.