The guitar man

There's a saying that once you are committed to a course of action, events will conspire in your favour.

It's still Year 4, and as my obsession with Bossa Nova grows, I realize I want to perform it.

It's guitar music, but the guitarists I know cannot seem to play it.  They make a valiant start but then concede defeat, cursing "Jazz chords!!!".  I need someone who can play these mystical jazz chords.

But who?

One Saturday night, Bill and I attend a party for a colleague of his who is turning 40.  It's a lovely balmy summer night and it's a big party at a large house.  From a distance, some familiar music reaches me faintly.  I tune in.  It's "A Felicidade" by Jobim - and it sounds like live music.

I nudge the person next to me in the group.  "Can you hear that music?  Listen!".  She shrugs, uninterested.  I drift away and follow the music out to the patio, where I locate its source.  Two musicians, playing my favourite songs.  Clearly, they are accomplished musicians.  I loiter there, sipping on my wine, and when they take a break I introduce myself to Tony (keyboard) and Mike (guitar).  I compliment them on the music.  Rashly, I say "I sing these songs".  It feels completely audacious to call myself a singer, but I have to take the chance.  I find out that they both teach music at tertiary level.  I ask if they have cards.  Tony gives me his.  Mike writes his email address on a piece of paper.

They start the music again.  I hang around listening; dancing tipsily; hoping they will not misinterpret my interest.

On Monday I invite them both to join my networks on Facebook and LinkedIn.  Tony accepts both invitations, but Mike the does not respond.

I don't pursue him.  Why would he have the slightest interest in accompanying me?  He's way out of my league.