I love music. I have it going nearly all the time, even if its only in my head.

I once learnt to play the guitar you know. Reg bought me a lovely acoustic guitar and I had all these lessons. I still have it to this day.

I can hardly remember a bloody chord though. That’s a bit disappointing. Reg has a kids sized electric guitar upstairs and all the necessaries to use it, but we lack someone to teach Adam and/or Heather how to play it. H plays around on the baby grand piano a bit, Adam is quite ok on the drums when it suits and they both like to perform and sing. And best of all, they really dig all kinds of music. But learning to play electric guitar this young would be cool. Imagine, Adam a cross between Don Henley and Lenny Henry with diggers and bulldozers all over the back yard.

Better than being forced to play a classical instrument and berated savagely for not complying. I can’t believe some people do that to their little kids. What 5 year old kid really “wants” to play a violin? The ones I’ve seen have hardly been budding virtuosos, not judging the coercion I’ve seen over practicing.

Its funny where preferences, talents and abilities do come from though, isn’t it? Is it Nature or Nurture? Or is it deeper still? How come some people are just able to compose beautiful music and write expressive lyrics while the rest of the world is left trying to say “happy birthday” adequately in a greeting card and hum in tune to elevator music? And why does REAL talent show up so early, so strongly in some people?

Take someone like Don McLean. He wrote some wonderful music in his early years that have stayed with each successive generation as classics. Like “American Pie", which 30 years after its release was voted 5th in a poll of the favourite 365 songs of the century.

And like “Vincent”.

Starry starry night
paint your palette blue and grey
look out on a summer’s day
with eyes that know the
darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills
sketch the trees and the daffodils
catch the breeze and the winter chills
in colors on the snowy linen land.

And now I understand what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen
they did not know how
perhaps they’ll listen now.

Starry starry night
flaming flo’rs that brightly blaze
swirling clouds in violet haze reflect in
Vincent’s eyes of China blue.
Colors changing hue
morning fields of amber grain
weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist’s
loving hand.

And now I understand what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.
perhaps they’ll listen now…

Powerful imagery combined with a wonderful melody. “Vincent” came out on his 1971 album American Pie, even bigger than the famous album title track. It reached #1 in the UK and #12 in the US.

When this album was released, Don McLean was 25 years old with the depth of feeling and expression of an old, old man.

How do they manage to do that??

Got me stuffed, that’s for sure. But I bet no one was whacking HIS legs to make him play his guitar.