...and afterwards joking, strongly and harshly reminds me of what silly shit I did just after I bought my (so far only) electric guitar long ago. I played Jimi Hendrix' "Live at Woodstock" on video.

If I could have set my guitar on fire right after having seen that vid I would have. Not for the same reasons Jimi had, I'm quite sure.

I think what saved the guitar from getting sold was the fact that I came to realise how much my playing annoyed the hell out of my parents. Not to mention how my sister reacted. Not like you'd think, though.

I started playing with a band. The kind of band that made excuses for itself all of the time, took weeks to come up with a band name and played one gig in its lifetime. Imagine the band Ash without originality, but with a female drummer who wrote all of the original tracks.

One day, I off-the-cuff-invited my sis to one of our rehearsals.

"I'm guessing you'll suck more than the other members."

I swear, if she could have turned her vitriol into TV-show scripts, she'd be a millionaire right now. She's still one of the sharpest people I've ever met. Enough yakking about her nice qualities.

Two days passed. Rehearsal was coming up.

"I'm coming. Can I bring a friend?"

Two sentences passed between us without cursing, and she wanted to hear me play the guitar? No way! I felt (and still do everytime I repeat this) like Keanu Reeves in a Bill and Ted film.

My sister sat with her friend in a corner of the rehearsal room that reeked of sweat (not my band's) and no oxygen, and she smiled. A sweet smile. And clapped in-between songs, shooting looks with her friend throughout, sniggering.

"You can really play, she said, on the way home."

Yeah, that's probably what saved me from selling my electric guitar in the end.