Commitments are important. When I tell my kids something, and I have three, and they do not forget, then I have a hard time saying I'm being a quality parent if I break that commitment. Even if there's a good business reason for that decision it's a stain on my reputation as a badass dad.
My parents are badass parents. They quickly set me up with a $75 pawn shop banjo to learn on and got me started on lessons. Macklemore would be proud.
I think that some kids just enjoy stuff. I enjoyed playing banjo. Just to play banjo. I didn't like practicing but, by golly, I liked to play. And I think that's what it takes to squeeze the sounds you want out of an instrument, or to repair an engine, or to tackle linear algebra. It takes looking at it, and identifying the next little thing you can't do yet and grinding away on that little piece until you own it in your mind and your body. That being said, if your kid is into something so much that they set aside things like video games and playtime so that they can do that something even more, just don't let them go into debt doing it if at all possible. Support them otherwise.
Anyhow, I digress... Y'all will want to be ready for that in my blog. A sentence is no good where a paragraph will suffice. I wonder if that's related to how much I like lots of notes and very few rests.
So there I am playing banjo, and jamming with my dad playing Styx and Marshal Tucker and Jerry Jeff Walker. Listening to a lot of Pink Floyd and some Police and that sorta thing.
Then I got a banjo teacher that made possibly the most tangential impact on my playing style possible. His name was Jamie and he introduced me to the music of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones.
To be continued...