A little toy guitar & me
Posted November 2, 2009on:
I was maybe four years old and al I wanted for whatever holiday ahead was this little toy guitar. I knew Mommy had it hidden away somewhere. I begged her and begged her and begged her for the little toy guitar to get it before that special occasion.
Finally, she could take my misbehavior no longer and gave in. She pulled it from a closet and handed me in the hallway. “You want this? Here it is.”
Was my victory sweet? Absolutely not. I played with this toy guitar briefly and then felt rotten, empty, guilty, and yucky. You get the picture.
It is not a feeling – getting my way at all cost – that I enjoy.
I know this may say more about my musical ability and perhaps reflects on the fact that it is my husband who plays the guitar and mandolin in this family.
I am a really, really competitive person and I like to win but I do feel angst about the person who loses (except Julie in Scrabble, and that doesn’t happen often enough).
So I watched Minnesota Vikings quarterback Brett Favre’s triumphant return to Lambeau Field, which looked like it was going to be a blow out. Then in the second half, Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers was bringing the team back, even cutting the point difference from 21 to 5. The Vikings won by 12 in the end.
Congratulations, Brett and the Vikings. You won fair and square.
But here’s my question, Brett, don’t you feel just a little like me with that little toy guitar?
P.s. Since this a blog about my breast cancer, I would like to add this: This I want to win at all cost.