There I was dreaming away in a peaceful sleep when all of a sudden I find myself with a banjo strapped on my back walking up to an old wooden shack where someone I know in real life pops out and starts talking about how to play the banjer and starts giving me finger picks.
These finger picks look like they were cut out of aluminum pie shells with little points on each end. He kept trying to crush them tighter around my fingertips and they keep squashing loose. All the while he talked about playing the banjer and critiquing my rhythm.
Too slow. This is the banjo. You gotta go faster.
My fingers fumbled all over the strings like I'd never seen an instrument before much less played one. Frustrating. Awkward. Ugly. Good things we were in the middle of nowhere in a clearing of about twenty acres and surrounded by trees.
As he kept talking and talking..and talking I saw my chance at escape and took it. Ran around the shack and found a car and drove away. I woke up this morning feeling a little exhausted..
haha..true story. Dreams are a funny thing.