As his banjo, I'm feeling a bit left out. He's not picked me up as much as he use to. But it comes in fits and starts, and so I'll wait for another fit or start. Or this could be the way it is.
He played me yesterday. He skipped me today. He has moved me to the office (again). Sigh. Oh that office with the 'Gone Fishing' sign constantly affixed to the window pane.
Another day, he didn't play with me. But he heard a few good songs, even one that reminded him of me. Or, so I hope. I thinking of that one where Roberta Flack sings 'his fingers slowly strumming '.
Well, instead of me whining on like this, let me just say there were periods of time where he didn't play me.
Did I mention I did get played a bit by someone else? This new player was much better than Harry. Harry is a very metronomic rhythm to his strumming. This player had some rhythm, even swing. And well, yes I began to sing in ways I didn't know I could. I felt like part of the river of music that a banjo can make. Harry's strumming was ... and here I go whining about things. By the way, Harry knows he has issues with rhythm, he knows he doesn't clap on the right note often. I am not whispering behind his back.
Is this the natural history of a banjo owned by a man with no rhythm. Can he find the rhythm through me? Not if he don't play me.
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