I've actively resisted spinning. Yes, the spindles were pretty. Yes, the handspun was beautiful. But no, I didn't need to do it myself. I am perfectly happy letting others raise the sheep, sheer the wool, clean it, dye it, spin it. I like being further up this food chain: buying the yarn and knitting it into something nice.
So a week ago, I took a class.
I'm not very good, but I don't expect to be. Abby (and others) argue that learning to spin involves developing muscle memory, and that if I keep practicing a little each day, I'll get it in about a month or two.
The result so far:

That's what became of the roving I got in class. Now I'm getting serious with some dyed combed top that I bought at a local store.

So I'll give it a couple months, working at it every day. If it doesn't click by spring, I'll drop it. And if it does click, I'll probably still drop it: I like to knit things, not make yarn. I'm not interested in owning a wheel. (If I'm buying equipment, I'd rather it was a circular sock machine).
But meanwhile, I think I'm learning a lot about yarn. And I've got an excuse now to look at the spindles at the wool festivals.