Skip to main content

Practiced Fingers

You CAN teach an ole' dog new tricks.

It amazes me that I still hear the platitude, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

Really? People continue to use it as excuse for not being able to successfully learn or even attempt a new skill to their satisfaction or expectation. Agreed, learning a new skill is challenging. Let’s be honest, it’s downright hard. Well, I’m here to say that learning a new skill is not a bag of tricks and humans are not dogs. It’s simply a discipline that’s driven by a “want to” passion.

It’s been over one year now and I’m having more fun than ever exploring the world of music with my Fender guitar . . .

You see, in my experience, to remain young at heart, curious, and active, life is about learning and teaching new skills. The emotional and physical rewards are simply undeniable. And if I might add practically unexplainable, but let’s try.

Almost daily I meet customers at Home Depot who say to me, “No one teaches you how to be retired, I find myself lost for something to do.” Why? Have they lost their childlike enthusiasm for curiosity? Don’t they realize that teaching yourself new skills throughout life is what life is all about?

Retirement is not about finding something to do, it’s about doing what you’ve  always dreamed of doing but were afraid to try or lacked the time. Everything I’d listened to or read kept encouraging me; dare to dream to re-invent yourself go back to what you loved as a child. It’s never too late to learn something new. So, I did. Every morning I practice guitar. First it’s as simple as warming up your fingers; E Blues Scale, G Major Scale, or simply run the complete neck of the guitar over three octaves. Forwards and backwards. Then it’s practicing the transition between chords, F, G, D, C, and E in time.

I challenge you to try it sometime.

Little by little - by watching lessons on YouTube, trying out new blues riffs, strumming patterns, and playing (or should I say stumbling) through songs that have always moved me - melodic sounds began to ring from my guitar. Every breakthrough an epiphany almost magical.

Face the facts there comes a time when you, once again, like it or not, must adopt the *student mentality. Not because you’re expected to - because you have the desire to want to. No pressure, no grades, no criticism, no shit.

Granted it’s still early in my guitar learning curve. I can almost play something that resembles music.  Last week I purchased my first music book with complete songs. Magically I’m working out the songs in that book. It's a challenge. I'm engaged. And it's loads of fun! I’ll need a few more months before I debut on stage with my Fender Stratocaster.

No tricks - just consistent practiced fingers, balanced with relaxed, enjoyable, daily practice.

*Student: One who studies, an attentive systematic participant. A person formally engaged in learning a new skill. The key word here is engaged. This means dedication to daily practice. No matter what skill you are trying to master.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

The Language of Home: Building a Sanctuary

This episode is  for anyone trying to find their footing in a new place—whether it’s a new city, a new job, or a new country. The light in Florence, Italy, has a way of making everything feel like a Renaissance painting—the golden hue on the stone, the steady rhythm of the Arno River, and the feeling that you are walking through a history much larger than yourself. I was there to give a presentation to a class of Gemology students. I was prepared to discuss color grading and refractive indices, but not to be outed as a language tutor . Feeling very much like a guest in a storied land, a hand shot up enthusiastically. "You’re the guy on the podcasts," the young woman said, her eyes bright with recognition. "You’re the one teaching us English." I laughed nervously. If you know my flat Midwestern accent, you know the irony here. I am hardly an Oxford professor. But later, as I wandered the cobblestone streets beneath the shadow of the Duomo, the humor faded into a powe...

Practiced Hands: The 50-Year Warranty

What Doc Burch Taught Me About Staying Active. We talk a lot about "life hacks" these days, but most of them don’t have a very long shelf life. Usually, they’re forgotten by the next app update. But back in 1972, I received a piece of advice that came with a 50-year warranty. It’s the reason I’m still on my bike today, still chasing a golf ball around Carlsbad, and still—mostly—in one piece. The Kick That Changed Everything It started with a literal kick in the pants. A kid at school in Cuba, Illinois, was joking around and caught me just right. By the next morning, my lower back was screaming. My mom didn’t reach for the Tylenol; she reached for her car keys. "Let’s go see Doc Burch," she said. "He’ll fix you right up." Harry E. Burch, D.C., was a fixture in Lewistown. He’d graduated from Palmer College in ’59 and had been our family’s go-to for years. He was a man of practiced hands and steady eyes. After a quick exam and an X-ray, the mood in the room s...

On the Fly–Taking Flight

In this special 500th episode,  On the Fly  is moving to a new home. Here’s why—and what’s staying the same. For a very long time (since April 2012),  On the Fly  has lived on  Blogger . Blogger has been a reliable host—dependable, quiet, and never complaining when I arrived late with another half-baked idea, a guitar riff, or a story that needed a little air. It faithfully archived my thoughts, my music, and more than a decade of curiosity. But the internet has changed. It’s louder now. Flashier. More insistent. Every thought is nudged to perform. Every sentence wants to be optimized, monetized, or interrupted by something that really wants your attention right this second. I’ve been craving the opposite. So today, On the Fly is moving to Substack . If you’ve been with me for a while, you know my quiet obsession: the A rt of Seeing . I’m interested in the moments we rush past—the Aversion Trap, the discipline hidden inside a guitarist’s daily practice, t...

When Fear Becomes the Default

In this special episode, When Fear Becomes the Default. Early Sunday morning, I was cycling past a small veterans’ pocket park in San Marcos. The air was still, the streets nearly empty. On one corner stood a young woman, alone, holding a hand-painted sign that read: “Be ANGRY. ICE agents are murdering people.” I pedaled past, but the words stayed with me. I knew the context—the footage and headlines from Minneapolis the day before, already ricocheting through the country and hardening opinions. Even in the quiet of the ride, the noise followed. Two miles later, I stopped at a red light. A black car with dark windows pulled up inches from my bike. My heart jumped. My first instinct wasn’t neighbor —it was threat . I found myself bracing, scanning, and wondering if the person inside was angry, armed, or looking for trouble. Then the door opened. A well-dressed young woman stepped out, walked to the trunk, and pulled out a sign that read “Open House.” She turned, smiled brightly, and sa...