Phoenix anxiously awaits the arrival of his new guitar...
|Phoenix's spouse clicked on the "Submit Payment" button on the screen with the mouse and it was done. Phoenix now had a guitar on the way. It would be delivered via UPS from an outfit in Oregon within five to eight business days. It was Sunday, so Phoenix knew it could be a bit longer, but since Phoenix lived in Montana, Oregon was not five to eight business days away in truck-travel miles or processing time. As a matter of fact, Phoenix's spouse exclaimed that it had already been shipped that evening. Phoenix was so excited!
The guitar was a classical guitar, and since Phoenix was a small man, they had ordered the 3/4 size guitar. It was beautiful in the photo. The specifications were just as wonderful as the price, too. Phoenix could not pay for a professional-grade instrument, but to learn on, a $129.99 Ibanez was good enough. It had a spruce top, catalpa back and sides, and mahogany neck. The classic mosaic-style rosette was perfect. It also came with a gig bag and an automatic tuner. Phoenix had made sure they paid a bit extra for the two-year disaster protection so that it might get to him in one piece.
Phoenix could not sleep. He did not know why, but he had rolled around in bed for hours on end trying to catch a bit of that blissful rest and could not. It was 0200 in the morning. He got up, put on his glasses, went to his computer, and began searching for an acoustic guitar book on Amazon.com. He found a good one and had the gift points built up to buy it, so he purchased it. Good. He would have a book to tell him all about how to go about learning the guitar by Wednesday. What about extra strings? Phoenix knew that, of all things, you needed to have extra strings for a guitar. He went to another website and searched for the strings he needed. He found some and ended up ordering three sets of D'Addagio 3/4 classical guitar strings. He was eager to have all of this taken care of so that, when his guitar came, he could practice with the knowledge that he had everything he needed to get a good start on learning how to play. He had no illusions about becoming a great guitarist, but he did enjoy the thought of being good enough to play a song or two, possibly a challenging song or two that might impress someone with his self-taught skills. He did not really care if anyone was ever impressed with his playing, though. This was something Phoenix was doing for himself, to take care of himself. He had always wanted to learn to play the guitar and had never done it. Now it was time. Satisfied with his preparatory forethought, Phoenix shut the computer down and went back to bed to read for a while. If he could not sleep, he could not sleep. He might as well be productive.