In Which I Acquire an Undeserved Honorific

I was in the music store messing around with a pedal I wanted to try before I bought it (a Tera Echo), just sitting there with a red single-cutaway Epiphone into the TE-2 into a Princeton. Cascading a bunch of chords and rhythmic harmonics through the shimmer and reverb of the pedal and amp. Twisting dials, just confirming everything works the way I'd been hearing on YouTube.

It's twenty to eight. Almost closing time. I go to turn off the amp, and hear, "excuse me, sir."

I look over - a scruffy teenager in a hoodie holding a black Strat, sitting by a nearby amp.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to say your playing was really inspiring. I've only been playing a little while and that kind of playing really inspires me."

I'm sort of stunned. I know people in the store can hear when I'm trying stuff out, but I expect to be ignored. Guitar store noodling, you know?

I say thank you. I say I've been playing for many years, that it's been a long, slow journey for me. That I hope he enjoys his own journey, too.

I drive home and the compliment rattles around my head. I've spent so much of my adult life feeling fairly invisible. It can be good or bad. Strange to feel noticed. It can be good or bad. Today it's good.

On the way home, I stop by the post office, send off a couple of packages and a card for my dad's birthday. Buy a jug of milk and a few odds and ends. Come home, put away the milk, make a cup of tea.

I sit down at the table with my laptop, go online and idly watch the baseball game on the TV across the room. My partner looks over from the couch. Pauses for a second, then asks why I'm smiling.