One Good Life | The Varmint's First Groupie

Recently, The Varmint traded the lovely strumming on his pretty acoustic guitar for thumping, John Entwhistle-style, on his unplugged bass.

The bass wisely remains unplugged to maintain neighborly relations - but sadly, the acoustic contribution to our household is something akin to what a rat might sound like on a miniature elliptical trainer.

I confess to missing the acoustic guitar, but support The Varmint's musical explorations.

So does my kid. She likes to help daddy play.

This gave me a bit of a start. It hit me that very likely, between the depth of her gene pool and watching daddy play, she'll be honking, banging, strumming or hollering very soon. And that it may not stop for 20 years, or until she moves out - whichever is longer. I plan to invest in earplugs and stand in the front row shouting "Go, kid, go!" - make no mistake about it.

But in the meantime, I think I'll give that rat a sweatband, and tell his ass to get moving.

Given the usual volume around here, I never thought I'd say this, but it's quite likely that these are the glory days of peace and quiet.

I plan to wallow accordingly.

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