I'm here to proclaim a revolutionary new approach to playing guitar!
A student of mine came up with it, it's brilliant: the "Barry Jackson Tennis Ball and Rubberband Method". I was introduced to this by Barry in person, "geez Chip... Can't I just squeeze some tennis balls and strap some rubber bands to my fingers instead of doing all this hard stuff?"
I don't suggest the reader pursue this route. I managed to talk Barry out of it, but it was difficult.
I tend to use what some call "big words". I just do, I'm not trying to contemplate how to use said Big Words, I'm trying to elucidate an expression of meaning with a nuance that is more specific. I would like to think I do the same when playing guitar.
An example is in the following:
A shortcut is a way to get to your destination faster than the "established" way.
A trick is something a magician does to make you think something has happened that has not.
People are looking for shortcuts all the time. Effectively there are not any. On guitar and in music in general, it's just that the routes to one's destination are varied and subjectively better or worse than others.
The problem I see is in syntactically ignoring the context. A shortcut actually, literally gets you to your destination. As destination I must point out, one has to know exists and where it is before one even starts their journey, in order to make it as direct as possible.
A trick makes you think you have done something, when you have not. As it turns out, I think there are a few tricks that can help you learn music and the guitar, but they're just that - tricks.
I can tell someone "go down that trail and turn right at the fork that you can't see from here". Maybe you're not too sure about those directions. Maybe you don't know about the legitimacy of turning right, or maybe you read on the Internet you should turn left, or that there is a turn in the trail before you get to the fork where you can cut through the woods and save half a mile on your trip.
That's a mess, you might still make it to your destination but it's not exactly a wise or optimal methodology.
Instead, I can show you a trick: stand on this box, and you can see the fork I'm talking about, and how it leads to the Magical Coffee Shop in the Valley You Can't See Yet.
You'll happily traipse off down the trail with no hesitation, knowing you know where to go. The trick showed you where you were going and how to get there, but it didn't get you there.
Meanwhile you walk past the sounds of people walking around in the woods, the guy who said his name was "Frost" that argued with you that you should go left at the fork instead of right. It was tiring walking to the coffee shop but you got there in time to relax outside while you watched all the energy depleted, decaffeinated people stumble about around you on the hills making up the valley. Most will give up and turn back. Some will fall down the side of the hill and arrive without money and with broken bones. Others will be devoured by the Gravy Train Bear, or forever lost in the shallow trench.
Taking guitar lessons is something of a trick, but not a shortcut. There are no shortcuts.
