8 years of practice makes perf...average at best

I've been learning to play guitar for something like 8 years. I don't remember exactly when I started, but I know my first guitar was a gift from Grandma and Grandpa during the first year or two that Sarah and I were married. I always still say that I'm learning to play because I'm just ok at it, and it's been a long process. Even if it's slow, at least I keep improving.

The whole time I've been learning to play, I've also been working on my singing voice. When I started, my singing was bad. Really bad. Comically bad. Sarah's mom and sister used to poke each other and snicker at me during church. True story.

I don't really mind being bad at things. That being said, I absolutely hate being bad at something that I devote time to practicing. Like singing. Or playing the guitar. So, I toiled away for years without much improvement in the singing department and only a little improvement in the guitar department. It was very frustrating. I told you, I don't do well when I devote time to something and don't get better at it. It makes me so mad!

I don't know when it happened, but I think the musical area in my brain started to change at some point in the last year or two. I saw very modest, slow improvement. Then about a month ago, I was trying to sing "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown." I say, "trying," because I can never sing this song. Can't hit most of the notes. But I kept going anyway. And I started hitting the notes. All of them. I kept singing but moved on to other songs that I'd never been able to get quite right. And I could sing those too. Totally weird. It was like my brain and my throat finally figured out how to sing a full range of notes. Actually, I think that might be what happened.

Fast forward to last week at church. I was singing along, like usual, and trying not to annoy the people in front of me. During greeting time, the woman in front of me quickly wheeled around, took my hand, told me what a nice voice I had, and said she loves worshiping when good singers sit near her.

I told her she might want to get her hearing checked. Even so the compliment was so nice to hear. Like music to my ears. Get it? Music? Singing? Then, this week a guy next to me patted me on the shoulder as we were leaving and said, "Nice job singing!"

Eight years of practice for two compliments? Totally worth it.

I'm a confusion barometer

Yesterday I was sitting in my Structural Equation Modeling class, and I was having trouble understanding the concept the professor was teaching. It wasn't just me, either. Everyone was having trouble following along. The professor is a really smart, higher-level math kind of person, and all of us students are just regular-level math kind of people.

So anyway, he kept going and going and everybody was totally lost. Occasionally, he would pause briefly and say things like, "Does that make sense?" Or, "Is everybody following me here?" Of course the answer is, "No, not at all." But hardly anyone is ever willing to say something like that. When he asks these questions, he almost always looks directly at me. I usually ask a lot of questions in class, and I don't mind speaking up when I don't understand something, so I think he sees me as the class's confusion barometer.

That being said, I don't always immediately chime in when I don't understand something, because I like to wait and see if things get a little clearer as class goes forward and the lecture develops. Yesterday, class got about 2/3s of the way through, and it was clear at that point that I wasn't going to get it at all. Just as I was thinking this, the professor again stopped, looked directly at me, and said, "Does everyone understand what I'm saying?" He shielded his eyes from the light of the projector as he stared at me.

Me: If I was going to be totally honest...

Him: Yes...

Me: Do you remember earlier when you said "good morning"?

Him: Yes...

Me: That was the last thing I understood.

The class erupted in laughter. And not just a little bit, it took a few moments for things to calm down again. When they did, the professor (who also thought it was funny) tried to reframe things. But I think I threw him off his game, and even though he tried to simplify things further, class kind of deteriorated from there.

I saw him in the hall later and he told me he was glad that I'd spoken up. I think that means he's going to try and re-format the lecture for us dummies, which means that we get to spend another 50 minutes on Monday talking about the algorithms and matrix algebra that underlie the fit indices procedures used for testing structural equation models. Oh good.

the ALDS is killing me

The major league baseball playoffs are well underway, and the Tigers managed to make it in this year. In (my) recent memory, this has only happened once: in 2006. I feel compelled to watch. I love baseball, and who knows when the Tigers will next make the post-season. This most recent post-season drought was only 5 years, but the one before that was almost 20 years. What I'm saying is that if I don't watch them now, there's no guarantee I'll ever see them in the playoffs again.

Two problems: (1) They're playing the Yankees, a team you either love or hate. Because they're too good. Every year. Including this year. And there's a good chance the Tigers will lose. (2) ALL THE GAMES START DURING THE TIME I AM NORMALLY BRUSHING MY TEETH AND GOING TO BED.

In short, I haven't been sleeping enough. For instance, the third game of the series was very exciting. Two great pitchers were pitching for each team, and the game was neck and neck throughout. The Tigers pulled out a heartpounding victory around 11 PM, at which time I've normally been sleeping for 2 - 3 hours. Meanwhile, I'm all geeked up like I'm hooked up to a coffee IV drip, and I still have to get up at 5:15 AM. Compound this with the fact that they played games four days in a row, and I'M NOT GETTING ENOUGH SLEEP.

For better or for worse, the series will end tonight. I hope to have to lose a lot more sleep over the next few weeks. Go Tigers!

I might buy a safe

Yesterday I played basketball during lunch, as I usually do on Mondays. I ended up on a really good team, and we won a bunch of games in a row. One of the guys I was playing with was new. He was a really good athlete but not really a basketball player in the traditional sense. After the game we ran into each other in the locker room and started talking. It turned out he was a former football player (wide receiver) at my school, and he was back now to work as a staff member and to finish his degree. After some more talking, it turned out that he left just a few credits shy of his degree because he got drafted into the NFL by the Minnesota Vikings. He bounced around the league a bit and had to come back from injury a few times. He finished his career with the New England Patriots. As I was leaving, he said, "Hey, since you're a sports fan, I'm going to show you something."

He reaches into his gym bag, pulls out a Superbowl ring, and hands it to me! (I think he'd been wearing it and took it off to play basketball). It turned out that he was with the Pats in 2005, when they won the Superbowl in 2005. It was, far and away, the most impressive piece of jewelry I've ever seen. In size, it seemed like it was almost as big as a tennis ball. Heaviest ring I have ever held. White gold (or maybe platinum) encrusted with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires (the Patriots colors are red, white, and blue). The centerpiece was three giant diamonds shaped like footballs. Totally amazing. I looked it up later: It's worth about as much as my house.

Anyway, he was a really nice guy, and that was probably the most unexpected encounter I have ever had in my life. But if I were him, I don't think I'd keep that thing in my gym bag...

nothing new

I went to let the cat outside, and when I came back I caught Barney at the computer. I think he's a little sad because he didn't have any new emails.