(Disclaimer: The following piece is not intended as a diatribe against actual ninjitsu experts, just the guitar-wielding variety. People who run around in black pajamas throwing smoke bombs and sharp objects at people are not to be trifled with. Unless, of course, you’re a pirate.)
While at a local coffeehouse a couple of weekends ago, my friends and I were stealth attacked – ambushed, even – by a ninja with an acoustic guitar.
I say he was a ninja because, like those most stealthy of assassins, his music caught us completely unaware. Instead of chatting and soaking in the warm weather, our conversation was interrupted when he began assaulting the communal air with gag-inducing pop/gospel songs.
To some people, atmospheric music during a meal is a bonus. I agree, so long as it’s unobtrusive or clearly advertised as a part of the experience. In this case, it was neither. Mr. Guitar Ninja (name unknown) simply decided the world needed to hear him sing, even if it was unsolicited.
Now, don’t get me wrong, ninjas are cool. After watching Japanese animé and playing games like “Mortal Kombat,” I’d like to be one. Clearly, guitars are cool, too. In the wrong hands, however, either one of them can be downright deadly.
Ever since middle school, it seems like every Joe Schmoe has, at one point, picked up a guitar, learned to read tab, memorized the lyrics to “Your Body Is a Wonderland” and decided he’s a musician. Considering three chords will suffice for accompanying hundreds of pop/rock songs, many people are fooled into believing them.
It’s like Lou Reed once famously said: “If it has more than three chords, it’s jazz.”
I’m all for public performance, but budding guitarists seem inclined to inflict themselves on the public far earlier than other beginning musicians. While the Guitar Ninja wasn’t bad, he did remind me of how six strings can impart an undue amount of self-confidence. Plus, his playing distracted me from my almond biscotti.
Then again, maybe I’m just jealous. After all, most girls don’t fall for the banjo player. Generally speaking, banjos are neither sneaky nor subtle, which makes them more of a pirate instrument. It takes a special sort of girl to like a pirate.
And who can blame them? Scurvy is hardly a turn-on.