Guitar man

My brother taught himself to play guitar. In the beginning, it was torture for me for he never stopped playing even when it sounded terrible. He bought a beginner's guitar book and a second hand acoustic guitar. He practiced day in and day out. I would sometimes join in and sing some songs while he played. Not long after, his sound started improving. The constant practice paid off, for he began to sound a lot better. He saved up his summer job money and bought a brand new guitar. He even put up his own band and played at town festivals, all in the name of fun. He developed a liking for washburn guitars. I can see why. He never sounded better. Nowadays, when I look back, I remember those times with fondness. The other day, my son told me he wanted to play the guitar. I smiled and remember my brother.