Yesterday Tom asked if he could have a go of my electric guitar. It has sat largely unused in the garage for a couple of years, and keen on promoting any worthwhile hobby in my son, I set it up together with a speaker in the living room. It was woefully out of tune and in need of new strings, but off we went anyway.

Tom soon discovered that guitars do not play themselves and that tricky things like music, training, practice and chords all have a place in making one sing sweetly. But, it was a start which I hope begins a trend. However, while fooling around myself on said axe my capo snapped, just like that. Part of the metal spring section had sheered clean off, being now completely beyond repair.

I feel a little sad because this same trusty blue capo has been a companion for well over a decade, with me through at-home music gigs, through the years playing at the Anglicare coffee shop, not to mention three weddings, including my own to Ann. It was bought in Kyoto too, so that's another sentimental attachment.

So long old friend and thanks for all the key changes!

Old and new in mute discourse.