Welcome to Bluegrass Guitar Dads. Glad you’re here. To get things rolling (and help me shape useful content for the group), please take a minute to introduce yourself in the comments below: 1. Instrument(s) What are you playing these days? 2. One bluegrass player you love Could be a legend or a current inspiration. 3. What you want to improve right now Timing, rhythm, flatpicking, backup, repertoire, confidence, etc. This doesn’t need to be polished, just honest. We’re all balancing music, work, and family, and this is a supportive space to keep the music moving. Looking forward to picking with you. Trevor

For a long time I didn’t think very much about picks. I’d grab whatever felt decent, play, and move on. That changed once I started practicing seriously. At some point it hit me: the pick is the tool that actually touches the strings more than anything else. My hands, my guitar, my posture. But the single piece of gear in constant contact with my hand is the pick. That realization pushed me to stop treating it like an afterthought. That’s how I ended up with three BlueChip TP48s. One lives on my house keys, one on my RV keys, and one tucked into the little watch pocket of my jeans. If a guitar is around, a BlueChip is never far away. Before BlueChip, I used every gauge of nylon Dunlop right through the Primetones. They’re genuinely good picks, especially if you’re on a budget, and I still recommend them to anyone who doesn't want to spend a small fortune on hi-tech polymers. But once I tried a BlueChip, I couldn’t go back. The feel is smoother, the attack is cleaner, and I just play with more confidence. For me, they're worth the money. If you’re thinking about one, a pro tip: if you can wait until the holidays, BlueChip often does free laser engraving at Christmas, and sometimes they’ll even throw in a small leather pouch and free shipping. The downside is that demand is intense right now. Between Billy Strings and Bryan Sutton making the TP-48 picks famous, custom orders are often delayed or paused entirely. One more wrinkle in my pick story. I do own a genuine tortoise shell pick, and I use it exclusively when I play these days. There is something subtly different about the feel that I genuinely love. But I want to be very clear about this: I did not buy it. I found it in an old guitar case at my former guitar shop and decided to put it to work rather than let it sit in a drawer. I'll use it until I lose it or it breaks. I’m firmly opposed to the modern trade in endangered tortoise shell. If you’re going to use one, make sure it is a documented antique and legally sourced. Please.

I’ve been thinking about this lately. My daughter asked me how many guitars I have. It was fun coming up with the answer. Some of us seem to be “one guitar people.” We find our instrument early on, learn it inside out, and ride with it for decades. Same neck, same sound, same feel... it's part of our identity. Other folks are more like a coffee menu. A dreadnought for bluegrass. A smaller body for late-night practice. Maybe a resonator when the mood gets swampy, or an electric for recording. Different tools for different jobs. I’m curious where you land. If you have a main one, what makes it the guitar for you? Tone, feel, history, or something else? If you have several, how do you think about their “roles” in your playing? No right answer here. Just good conversation for guitar people who also have real lives.

Most of us didn’t quit music because we stopped loving it. We quit because life got loud. Jobs. Kids. Spouses. Fatigue. Houses where sound travels too well. Guitars that come out late at night and go back in the case a little sooner than we hoped. If you’re an adult who loves bluegrass but feels stuck, behind, or inconsistent, this group exists for you. Bluegrass Guitar Dads is not about shredding, speed contests, or pretending we practice four hours a day. It’s about learning real tunes, building solid time, and making steady progress inside a full life. You don’t need to post videos. You don’t need fancy gear. You don’t need permission to be here. Some weeks you’ll practice fifteen minutes. Some weeks you’ll just listen. Both count. This is a fundamentals-first space for people who care about the music and want it to stay part of their lives, even when time and space are limited. If that sounds familiar, you’re already one of us.

It’s snowing in Savannah today, which means my usual garage practice spot is officially off limits. Too cold to play. Too cold to think. Like many, I don’t always have the option to practice freely inside the house. Repetition that feels productive to us can sound like psychological warfare to spouses, partners, kids, or pets. Especially fiddle tunes at half speed. Especially the same four measures. Again. This has always been one of the hidden challenges of learning music as an adult. We’re not short on motivation. We’re short on space, time, and forgiveness from the people we love most. I’m curious how everyone here is making it work right now. Where do you practice? What’s your biggest obstacle to making noise?