He is the kind of guitarist I am unworthy of, and ought to feel abashed to have accompany my mediocre vocals. Meticulous in technique and technical accuracy, particular in equipment standard and quality, he stubbornly believes playing accompaniment to singing is plain child's play. In his league are classic solo pieces, his favourite being jazz. His guitar is bought and shipped from America, apparently not being sold locally. His guitar strings are all imported as well - this must be, for how can anyone imagine the average strings on an exquisite instrument? There are others - his electronic guitar tuner for instance - shipped directly from makers in America because the ones sold locally simply cannot live up to his expectations.
The tuning fork works, he said in response to something (stupid) I suggested, but the human ear cannot differentiate more than 1/4 of a semitone. Dumbstruck, dumbfounded, taken by shock, I agreed. Furthermore, he continued explaining, when all the strings are in perfect tune, they resonate as one, and the result - heavenly. No doubt!
Now reader, you may think I am mocking this man's enthusiasm and strive for perfection but I am not. If anyone can appreciate seemingly senseless passion, it is I. I, as a person who cradles the Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary on her lap while writing a post for a blog, who would have proof-read this piece several times before publishing and several times after publishing, to edit and re-edit it until it is perfect in her definition of perfect. Indeed, as it is, I admire the young self-taught musician's spirit and determination. Of course, I am not being flattering just because he or his lovely girlfriend might be reading this. I am shocked that thought even crossed your (my) mind. I mean - people who sing-along to audio tracks are commonplace; people who play-along to the tracks' instrumental arrangements are not, if justification is wanted.
All that said, and I have to risk being the one to ruin the ensemble, and to bring everyone's baseless high hopes crashing down. Bummer.
Reader, you must be sick of these weird and totally incomprehensible anti-climaxes I end my posts with. I sort of like that, so I guess I am not apologising. Good night.