I have dreams. Big dreams. I want to play the guitar. To some, that might not seem like that big of a dream. But I have pretty much no musical ability whatsoever, so playing the guitar represents a big dream for me.

With such a handicap, some might wonder why I have this dream. Well, first of all, I like a challenge. Second of all, I still have part of that 14-year-old who wants to rock living inside of me.

Like a lot of kids, I tried to play guitar when I was younger. My friend Dave was always into all kinds of music and a bunch of us would sit around in his room – he and his brother had a sweet setup on the top level of their family’s house – and listen to whatever we could get our hands on.

Eventually, a bunch of us got guitars. We tried to play, but never really tried to form a band. Dave took to the instrument naturally. I didn’t have as much luck.

I wanted to really dedicate myself to the instrument, but I also loved sports and found myself learning wrestling moves faster than guitar chords.

I wasn’t a total failure. In fact, I still remember how to play “Should I Stay or Should I Go” by The Clash. Well, not the whole thing, but the basic chords stick with me.

That’s all I need to keep my dream alive. I know I can figure out that one song if I try so why not give the instrument a go again?

The thought swirled in my head off and on for years, but I never had the time. Now with Bridget getting older, I find myself with some free time on occasion and begin to think about picking the guitar up again.

After all, the Internet has made it so much easier to find the chords for popular songs. I don’t aspire to learn the guitar solos from “Freebird,” although that would be totally awesome. I just want to pound out a few songs for fun in the basement.

Part of my problem is that I don’t want to go and buy a guitar and amp, then realize they are great decorations because I overestimated how much time and interest I would have once I made the purchase.

The other part is that I don’t want to be a cliché. I am fully aware that things like this are my own sad little mid-life crisis so I don’t want to look too silly.

The commercial for some convertible when the wife made fun of her husband saying, “What’s next, Stanley? An amp?” hit a little too close to home.

And it was one of the first things my friend Brian said when I mentioned I was thinking of buying a guitar. I can’t let that bother me. This is my mid-life crisis, and I’ll do what I please.

I have looked in a few stores – I just need to bite the bullet. Dave is in a band all these years later, so the least I can do is learn to play a few songs.