Battle Studies Review, Pt 1

For those of you who know me well, you are aware that I am a "musician," of sorts. In fact, I honestly cannot remember a time when music was not a large part of my life. My parents both used to sing to me when I was young, and as an aspiring singer myself (there is, in fact, video of Malisa and I circa age 5 singing and dancing to John Denver in my parents living room. Those of you who are interested can contact me later about viewing this piece of cultural history), frequent "concerts" for my parents and "friends" (both real and imaginary, as well as several dozen stuffed animals) were not uncommon to those who knew me during my childhood. When I was 4, my parents bought a beautiful Yamaha piano for the dining room in our South Tulsa home, and I promptly started weekly piano lessons which is what I like to call "The Beginning of an Era." Calling it an "Era" might be a bit of an exaggeration.

As the piano "era" (just get over it) continued on, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would become discontented with my current realm of musical prowess (because I was essentially dominating 'Mary had a Little Lamb'), and would begin the search for a new sphere of interest to enter into. While singing was something I enjoyed and was learning to do as well, in the 5th grade I finally centered in on what it had to be. I needed to have a guitar.

Seeing as I was eleven, I had no money or monetary assets to my name, whatsoever, to my knowledge, at that time. So I had to construct a scheme to convince my parents that this was a wise financial investment on their part. The bargaining began. Followed by begging. Followed by pleading. Followed by incessant offers at compromise ("I'll clean my room every day for the rest of my life. Twice even! As much as it takes!"). When these feeble, eleven-year-old attempts showed no promising signs of success, I finally gave up. (Whatever, I so didn't give up.) But in bringing the topic up less often, my parents finally came around. I got a guitar for my birthday that year.

I distinctly remember sitting on the floor in my bedroom at our house on 73rd, simply holding that beautiful Takamine guitar in my lap (Primarily because I had no idea what to do with it. Remember: I didn't know how to play the guitar). Luckily, one of my great friends at school, Rachel, did know how to play, and was graciously willing to help me get started. After two or three get-togethers with Rachel after school (in which she taught me chords G, A, D, and E and taught me two P&W songs that used these chords only), I was able to hobble along with my new-found skills on the instrument I now so dearly loved. The Era continues.

Thus began the many mornings of helping to lead worship in chapel at school (fortunately for me and unfortunately for all who had to listen to me, we had chapel three times a week, which gave me lots of practice and experience in a short amount of time), followed by helping with music on the summer mission trips, then in Youth Sunday School each week, and a myriad of other engagements as I got progressively more tolerable in my abilities. Surprisingly, as it seems there is often a surplus of moderately talented guitar players in any given social circle, there has always been a shortage in the groups I have been involved in, which has given me more opportunities to use this instrument than I would have imagined when I first began dreaming up the grand scheme to be the world's next Jaci Velazquez + guitar (I was home schooled). I guess I should have seen it as a sign. Oh, youth-self: how naive you were.

While other endeavors distracted me in high school (primarily, musical theater and a further interest in the vocal endeavors I had only slightly pursued to that point), I will never forget these first musical encounters. Were it not for my guitar-love I likely would not have dated the boy that I dated during my sophomore year of high school (a talented guitar player and musical connoisseur). And while that relationship was relatively unsuccessful (seeing as it ended), I have to give it a lot of credit, because ultimately, it changed my life. Because that boy introduced me to this song, and the musical love-of-my life, John Mayer.




Editor's Note: This post began with the intention of reviewing John Mayer's latest album, Battle Studies (as promised). Due to the enjoyment of writing the introduction to this piece, the author has opted to make this a multi-part series. Stay tuned for further installments.