I once played the piano. No, I was not a prodigy. There was little threat to me supplanting any of the "greats" on the ivories. I did not like to practice. Week in and week out my mother would take us to our lessons. Each week the teacher would be able to tell I had not practiced. Eventually we all agreed the piano was not for me. Yes, today I wished I had stayed with the lessons. Maybe now I would practice.
Occasionally I play the guitar. Over the years I took lessons from a couple of people. One youth minister gave lessons and for a time I enjoyed practicing. My fingers hurt. Callouses developed. These were good things. But, soon I lost interest. Some years later I picked it up again. This time my teacher was nearly a peer. He and his brother played in a band in high school. They were both good than and are amazing today. I went to college and stopped taking lessons.
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