Fair enough

There where our several years' expenditures on piano lessons did not quite reach, nature has silently prevailed, presently, by simply following an, obviously natural, path. Childhood a distant past, adolescence an exciting present, A has discovered the various usual distractions that come with it, music, punk music, occupying a dignified spot among them. And he has discovered too my acoustic guitar, dormant in my bedroom, no doubt expecting for someone to pick it up again someday. That day recently arrived. And now he has learned a few basic chords and a few basic tricks I duly, and happily too, provided. The web is doing the rest as an endless source of input to learn from. Day in, day out, waves of guitar sounds reach us in our living room, coming from his bedroom, transmitted through a wooden door which lately remains unsurprisingly closed. There where once we had to insist for him to sit down and rehearse his latest homework assignment on the piano, a pointless and frustrating effort altogether, the immediate pleasure derived from stroking the guitar to his favourite Green Day songs has turned music into something amusing. No need for further insistence on our (mostly mine) side. It won't be the piano but it will be the guitar. It won't be classical tunes but it will be punk and rock. Fair enough. He will keep on playing music, and that is the point which matters.