I picked up my first guitar in 1967... I can still smell the wood coming out of the cardboard box. The Beatles were still writing new songs. I went to my first lessons... the strings hurt...I quit. Fast forward to 2010 I decided it was time to try again...bought a new Yamaha...and went to my next-door neighbor who taught music... but work, family, and my motorcycle took all my free time. The guitar went in the corner. Now... everything is in place, a system that I can be committed to, dedicated to the daily effort...and 60 days in... the progress is slow for these 68-year-old fingers. The calluses have formed on the fingertips... I get the chords right half the time. My strumming sucks. My push-ons and pull-offs are awful. It's taking a lot longer than I want. But I know I have no music talent, just plenty of desire. And don't ask my singing is going. I have little rhythm. But finally, pieces are starting to work. Progress not perfection.