Vernon and the Guitar
Vernon was delighted with the guitar. It opened up a whole new world of sounds. He realized he could make music. He wrote songs from the noises he could coax out of the guitar. His wife, glad he was doing something with his time, praised his musical efforts. In private she remarked on Vernon’s “dying cow in a tin barn,” guitar style.

Oblivious to the growing strangeness of his music and the insincerity of his fans, Vernon lost himself in the guitar. He learned new tunings and chords. Then he changed them. His best moments playing the guitar seemed to be in the woods on the bank of the creek behind the house.

At first Vernon’s often awkward music cleared the creek bank. There squirrels and mocking birds began to linger in the trees, if only to argue back in their own voices at the strange new sounds. After two months he had become a part of life on the creek bank, ignored by or sometimes fascinating its many citizens.

The music improved dramatically on the creek bank. Milt gave him some pointers. Vernon launched into an adventure. He tried to doscover just what kind of noises the guitar would make. He learned to do things with the strudy steel guitar that made the most of its design. Milt swore that in two months Vernon had created a whole new approach to playing the guitar. Vernon’s songs were stark and almost graceless yet always pierced by a melodious ray of sunlight delighting in a dance of harmonies.

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