It’s three weeks of daily practice, and my fingers are getting organized and a little tougher. I can now make chord changes, from E major to A minor to A major. They’re clumsy, but I’m sometimes surprised to find fingers almost where they’re supposed to be without lookin’ at ‘em! “The Blues Riff” is coming along; had a few short stretches tonight where the rhythm was consistent and I was just playing, not thinking. (Reminded me of the advice of a veteran teammate back when I was an over-earnest leadoff hitter for a hotshot fastball team: “Howdy, don’t think too much! You’ll hurt the ballclub.” Okay, Rip. Heard you then, hear you better now. Isn’t that always the way with advice to the young?)

And the last couple of nights, I’ve started to pick out an old standard rock ‘n’ roll bit. (Is it from “Blue Suede Shoes”? Could be.) What I’m hearing is Chicago’s Terry Kath winding up a wandering solo jam with something familiar in the Live at Carnegie Hall album, aka Chicago IV. It’s another cliché for my arsenal, and hey, it’s almost enough to make an aging canine believe in a renovated repertoire…

I’m starting to have a little more fun, and this may even be habit formation of the constructive kind.(Cool!) And the Old Dog Year has only 49 weeks left.