Never Too Old To Play The Bass
April 27, 2019
Never Too Old To Start Playing Bass Guitar
Picking Up The Bass Again at 60: Bob’s Story
When it comes to the decision to play the bass guitar, not everybody is picking up the instrument for the first time. Sometimes, the person who wants to play already has many years of experience. Maybe you played as a young person and gave it up when job, family and, well, LIFE needed your attention more than your beloved bass?
We all know that players might have to put down their basses to do the things they have to do in this world. But there’s no reason why you can’t come back. Now that your major responsibilities have been met, Are you itching to get back to being a thunder-maker? If you’re a bit nervous or reluctant to take the plunge, read this little fictional story. I hope it will inspire you to do what you know you want to do!
But yet there still are many mature folks that have always wanted to be a musician, But The right perfect moment just never presented itself,
Its Kinda like that business idea you have had for years, And you really feel like its a goldmine just waiting to be opened up. But circumstances have just never been perfect to give it a shot.
But you know what ? Circumstances may never be Perfect, And waiting and waiting for that perfect moment, Is shorting yourself, You need to be positive, You need to forget about failure do not even let failure cross your mind.
And if its a expense issue, Please know with the proper education about purchasing a bass guitar
(Please read our Bass Guitar Buying Guide ) You can always recoup the cost of buying that bass of your dreams (usually 100% ) So put that thought away too.
Bob strolls into the music store. He’s grey at the temples, wears glasses, and has a bit of a stiffness to his walk. In his eyes, a lifetime of experience. He’s been married for thirty five years. The kids have gone on to start families of their own, and Bob’s been thinking about something.
The salesman watches as he makes his way over to the bass guitars. He follows. “Can I help you find something?”
Bob tucks his hands in his pockets and motions his chin at the Jazz Bass hanging on the wall. “She’s a beauty.” I forgot how to hold one of these girls.
The salesman eases the Jazz from its perch and hands it over. Bob lifts his foot to the rung of a nearby stool and rests the Jazz on his leg. He plays a 12-bar walking line with a lot of feeling and groove.
The salesman plugs the Jazz into a floor amp and sets the dials. Bob plays more lines and the now amplified thunder shakes the floor. He`s lost in the fret board and doesn’t hear as the salesman relates some of the features of this particular Jazz. All he hears is the thunder.
When he finishes his demo, he turns the Jazz over in his hands. “I used to play when I was younger. We did school dances, local weddings. Pop, rock, blues, swing from 60s and 70s mostly.”
The salesman asks, “Planning to take it up again?”
Bob hands back the Jazz. “Oh I don’t know. Just looking, I guess.”
“Well, you’re pretty good, man.” He gives Bob his card. “You should think about it.”
When Bob gets home, he takes out his old photo album and does a Memory Lane once-over of the guys in the band and some of their stage gigs. He really would like to play again, but the truth be told, it’s been so long and he knows he’s no Spring Chicken anymore. And anyway, what’s the point of buying a brand new Jazz Bass when he’s probably forgotten most of what he used to know? A few basslines in the music store does not mean he could still play all the songs he used to love.
But wasn’t the thunder great, though? Wasn’t it a genuine thrill to feel the floor rumbling again under his feet?
I’m almost sixty, he reminds himself. I can’t start all over again. He looks at the salesman’s business card.
Bob’s wife comes in and breaks up the reverie. “Where were you?”
He closes the album. “Just a walk to the music store.”
She sets a coffee cup next to him. “Remember, if you get to have a new bass, I get to have a new acoustic guitar.”
His heart beats a little faster. Maybe I could do this, he thinks to himself. His breathing gets quick and the adrenaline rush hits him. He gives her a wink. “Maybe we should take lessons this time.”
She rushes from the room to grab her jacket. “Hurry up. The store closes at six!”