Oh wow

So today a strange thing happened to me. The chair I was sitting in flipped forward onto me. Not backward like most chairs, but forward. I was sitting in a chair with wheels and I wanted to go across the room, without getting up. So I just started scooching forward across the floor. Halfway across the room my chair revolted by flipping forward and smashing me into the ground. Of course I had an audience when this happened.

Just one more day in the life of a violist.

The Laundry

Have you ever been to a laundry mat? Yes? Ok, have you ever been a little confused with operating the devices? Well… recently I had a rather embarrassing time at a laundry mat. It all started like this…

My siblings and I were attending a music camp, a quartet camp actually, and after the first week and a half I had to do some laundry. Turns out I wasn’t the only one needing to do laundry. I ended up going with my three siblings and 2 other friends. Once we got there we made short work of finding available washer machines and getting our stuff washed. Once everything was done being washed we turned to the dryers…

Let me just say that I know how to do laundry. Really I do. No joke. I’ve known how to do laundry for years and am fully capable in managing the art of laundry. Anyways… I was able to find a huge dryer available, so I quickly loaded it with my clothes. That done I began to look over the directions. I guess I took longer than most people to look over those directions cause as I was contemplating which setting to use a Spanish lady came up to me and began to explain everything to me, “You put your quarters in this little slot, then turn this handle and choose which cycle you want…” Let me stress the point that I was doing fine by myself! Oh, and she didn’t work there. She just wanted to help the poor college student who knew nothing about laundry!!

I politely thanked her for the help, and then began to insert my quarters. As I did this I heard the Spanish lady having an animated discussion in Spanish with the lady who was there with her. I discreetly glanced back at them and saw that she kept pointing at me. After a moment they both began to laugh hysterically. I was just about to walk outside when one of my friends, who saw the whole thing, asked if I needed any more help with my laundry. I gave him a dirty look but he only laughed along with my siblings and other friend.

I was pretty embarrassed. I mean who knows how many people that lady is going to tell about the guy who didn’t know how to do his own laundry! I went outside to get away from the laughter. After a few minutes I went back inside and tried to maintain some sense of dignity.

I had been in there for only a few minutes when my dryer stopped. Now it had only been about 20 minutes max, and I had put in 6 quarters, which should have given me 8 minutes a quarter. Obviously something must be wrong. I cautiously approached the dryer and tried to determine what the problem was. As a safety precaution I called my mom, just in case she had been through a similar experience and could offer me some advice.

As soon as I began talking to her my siblings and friends burst out laughing. They thought it was so funny that I would call my mom for help. Whatever. Since I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the dryer, and I was being laughed at once again, I went out side. I quickly filled my mom in on what had happened earlier with the Spanish lady. She laughed, not surprisingly, and told me I should ask them if they had any trouble with the dryer when they used it. Then I had to explain to her that if I ever wanted to be taken seriously I shouldn’t do ask them for help. Oh, and my ego wouldn’t allow me to do that anyway so she needed to come up with something else.

She promptly told me to suck it up. We ended our conversation and I stood there for a sec, trying to figure out what to do. I decided to ask the Spanish lady if she noticed anything wrong with the dryer. I went back inside, past all my laughing friends and siblings, and approached the lady. She said that it worked fine for her, and maybe I just needed to put more quarters in. Riiiiiiggghht… The problem was the door wouldn’t stay closed. After some tinkering I was able to fix the door and get the rest of the things dried. However, throughout that whole time those ladies, friends, and my siblings would periodically start laughing at my laundry skills.

Oh well… I guess it was kind of funny.

Chicago O'hare National Airport

I remember the first time I navigated an airport on my own without my parents. I was heading home with my brothers and sister after attending an awesome music camp in Indiana. My dad had hired us a ride to take us to Chicago international airport, the place we were flying out of.

That airport is definitely not the airport you want to be navigating the first time on your own. It feels like utter chaos. I had gotten 3 hours of sleep the last three nights there, including an all niter the last night since our ride left at 3'oclock am. I was completely wiped out. After unloading all our luggage and instruments, after arriving at the airport, we just stood inside the terminal taking in the scene. People were running here and there, trying to catch their flights, managers were trying to create some form of order... it was chaos. Almost reminded of home. Almost…

I took a deep breath and stepped up to the computer to get our tickets. I had gone over this, in detail, multiple times with my Dad, so I was confident that I wouldn’t have any problems. Riiiiiiggghht. I hit all the right buttons, entered in the correct information... and came up with nothing. The thing wouldn’t pull up our tickets! I rubbed my hands together nervously and tried again. Again I got nothing. After I yelled and gave the thing a couple good kicks I stepped back. It was then I noticed my siblings staring at me. Not wanting to worry them I flashed my charmers smile. No problem, apparently this computer was having problems, so I walked to another one and smiled thinking, "this system has nothing on me." I would live to regret those thoughts.

The second computer was no help. Neither was the third, or the one after that. No matter what computer I tried our tickets would not show up. They had vanished. Our plane was supposed to leave in an hour and a half and we couldn’t get our tickets. At this point I began to, shall we say, become slightly agitated? I mean, why shouldn’t I be nervous? I didn’t want to miss our flight, and what if our tickets had been stolen by terrorists or something?! I decided it was time to call home and get some advice from a smart guy named dad. After a few rings I heard a groggy voice mumble "hello?". I was like "hey dad! I can’t get our tickets! The computers won’t even pull up any of our information! What should I do?! Can you help me?! I can’t get our tickets!" I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was something to that affect. When I ran out of things to say I listened for the instruction I knew was sure to come. After a brief pause my dad said, "Let me call you back." I was like "No dad! Wait!! You don’t understand!" but he had already hung up. I tried to think of why he would do that. It was then that I realized we were 3 hours ahead of them. It was really 3oclockAM back home. Dad was probably trying to wake himself up.

After a minute or two had passed he called me back. I went back to the computer and he walked me through a few things. Still came up with nothing. He told me to get in line for checking bags and talk to the person there. Ok. I hung up and we got in line. We barely beat the rush. There were about 30 people in front of us and another 30-40 got behind us.

Around this time I began to count how many bags we had. I turned and was astonished to see Daniel (my 14 year old brother) walking briskly away with an airport staff person. I was also surprised to see my twin, Brandon, running after them, leaving Ashley and me with most of the luggage. I couldn’t call them, since I was the only one with a cell phone, but I didn’t want to go after them and lose our place in line, and leaving Ashley wasn’t an option. I decided to wait in line and see how things played out.

When we finally got to the front I explained our problem to her and asked if she could help us out. She frowned at me and told me to try the computer right there at the counter. I tried and once again came up with nothing. Exasperated she came around and tried herself. Again nothing. By this time she was not a happy camper. She made it very clear that she wasn’t appreciating these difficulties. That made two of us. I tried to be as pleasant as possible but that didn’t help anything. Scowling she went back to her computer and had our information up in a few minutes. Once we got the tickets printed out I began to relax a little. Things were going to be ok. Not.

Next we had to check our bags. Between the 4 of us we had 4 bags to check, 6 carry on bags, and our instruments. As the lady began to weigh our bags I looked around apprehensively for Daniel and Brandon. There was no sign of them anywhere. I sighed and turned back to the lady. She was just finishing weighing the last bag, which happened to be both mine and Daniels. I looked at the scale and my eyes bugged out. 79 pounds! We were almost 30 pounds over weight! I almost panicked. It was going to cost another 50 dollars to take that bag home. There was one problem with that. I didn’t have any money. I was trying to figure out what to do when my dad called me. He wanted to know how things were going. I filled him in on the latest development and asked for some help. He was quite for the most part. Then he suggested we divide things from that bag into the others. Great plan. Except the only 2 bags that had extra room were with Brandon and Daniel.

I asked the lady where they might have gone, since Daniel had his cello. She directed me to oversize area and told me to take all our bags with me. Have you ever tried carrying, pushing, pulling 6 things of baggage? Let me tell you, it is no small cup of tea! I literally had to kick one bag in front of me while pulling a bag and carrying three others. Ashley wasn’t much better. After walking like this for a few yards I saw an airport manager sitting doing nothing, so I asked him if he would be so kind as to help my sister and I with our load. He said no!! I couldn’t believe it! I was quickly fraying at the edges. He was quick to offer to lead us to the right place. I was so upset at him. He was being plain lazy. What I really wanted to do was give him a good kick in the behind! Instead I followed him as he walked along leisurely.

Anyway we finally found Daniel and Brandon. They had just finished getting Daniels cello through the oversize crew. After chewing them out (mostly Daniel) for taking off without telling me what they were doing and where they were going, I filled them in on the bag situation. We tried to divide things among the other bags, but we didn’t take off that much weight at all.

At this time I said a silent prayer asking God for help. Things were just not going well. I kid you not, 2 seconds later a baggage guy steps up to me and say’s “You’re blessed, God is looking out for you.” Then he took the overweight bag and put it through without charging us. I have never been so grateful for anything in my life. God was definitely watching over us.

After that we went back to check the rest of our bags. Would you know the line had got even longer! Right then I had had enough. Without even hesitating I marched to the front of the line, to the same lady, and told her we were ready. Frowning, she opened her mouth, probably to say something about waiting in line, but I didn’t give her a chance. I gave her my no nonsense lady, I want to be anywhere but here, I’m exhausted, angry, and just want to go home look, then I again told her we were ready to check our bags. To her credit she didn’t say anything and quickly processed us. I thanked her, and we moved on. Thankfully we made it through security without any drama. That would have been too much.

Once we were seated on the plane I totally zonked out. I was exhausted but I had survived O’Hare National Airport. Let that be a lesson to you. Don’t fly through O’Hare your first time alone. Don’t over pack your bags, and go prepared to battle in the war zone that is the O’Hare National Airport.

Thunder and Lightning

A few days ago a pretty big storm hit our part of the country. Thunder, lightning, huge gusts of wind, and driving rain. Storms like these both frighten and intrigue me. I like to sit and watch the storm, always from my safe place in the house.

When I watch a storm I usually sit by the windows that overlook the city. Its great for watching storms move across the valley. Today though, I was content to sit by the dinning room windows typing away at my computer, occasionally observing the progress of the storm. Well the storm died down and I began to relax. We don't have storms like that everyday. Especially in the Northwest.

Well I was just about to send an email when out of nowhere it hit! This huge clap of thunder accompanied by a bolt of lighting so big that you could see it out from the windows on both sides of our house! Seriously, it could have been a rainbow, in that it totally circled our house! It was at least 3 feet from the window I was sitting at!

This sudden burst of electric and decibel awesomeness, (it could've been God paying a visit) scared me so bad that the breath was just about knocked out of me. No joke. I was also terrified into action. .0000000001 after it hit I dove to the floor, knocking over my chair in the process, and covered my head. I would have screamed but its hard to do that when you've got the wind knocked out of you.

When it hit I wasn't the only one scared. I think all of my family members jumped or screamed in fear. When I dove to the floor they thought I had been hit by the lightning. I was so scared I thought that too. After things calmed down a little I picked myself up off the floor and tried to get my breath back, and slow down my heart.

Lets just say that it took me a while before I could type on my computer.

Shaky kands make it too hard...

Dum-boy

Have you ever been to the magic kingdom? You know what I’m talking about. Endless rides, food, fun, games, Disney characters, oh yes… and Mickey Mouse. Disneyland is the place I’m talking about. The land of happiness, wear children and adults can spend a day (or many days) enjoying the multiple activities that are available to everyone.

Well… In my younger years my family lived in L.A. and we visited Disneyland quite a few times. Because we went when I was younger than 8, I always went on the “kid friendly” rides. You know them, “It’s a small world after all”, “Peter Pan”, “Star Wars”… and lets not forget “Dumbo”.

I haven’t been to Disneyland since I was 8, so I’ve pretty much forgot what all the rides were like. However I will never forget that infamous “Dumbo” ride! I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was 7 years old and my family had taken a trip to Disneyland for some fun. That was probably one of my most enjoyable times there. I went on “Thunder Mountain” and “Space Mountain” for the first time. Yes they scared the heck out of me but that’s ok. I went on those two coasters after my usual assortment of kid rides. After that I was ready to go on something more to my liking, to help me wind down.

As we walked in search of the right ride I spotted the “Dumbo” ride. As a 7 year old dumbo was the perfect ride to relax on. All you had to do was sit and decide whether you wanted to be up or down, or you could really style by going up AND down. Anyways, there was a pretty long line for that line, but I was determined to wait it out. After about fifteen minutes in line, and only moving a few feet, I began to get really bored. They should do a sideshow for all the people waiting in line or something like that. Well, you know how they have those fences that make the line, the metal ones? Well I decided to entertain myself by seeing if I could fit through the bars. Everybody knows that if you get your head through the rest of your body will follow. So, with that in mind I tried to stick my head through. I got it through on the first try! Oh yeah! Things were rolling! Feeling quite smug I continued my epic journey through the bars. That’s where things got a little dicey. For some reason the rest of my body wanted to stay on the other side of the bars! No problem, I would just pull my head back through and find something else to do. Riiiiiiggghht… I pulled but my head wouldn’t come back. I turned my head and pulled some more. Again it wouldn’t budge. About this time the line began to move (at a rapid pace I might add). Not wanting to be left behind I began to yell for my dad. Maybe scream is a better way to put it. As soon as dad got there though I began to calm down. It is common knowledge to all kids that dad can do anything. As dad stood there assessing the situation I could tell he was a little worried. He tried to pull my head through in many different ways but it just wouldn’t budge. All this time I was crying because my head was stuck and the line kept moving! It was bad enough to get my head stuck it was insult to watch all these different kids pass me and get on the ride ahead of me when they should’ve been behind me! After trying numerous times my dad began to look for someone from the park who could help. I was too traumatized to remember how they got me out. I think my dad was somehow able to do it. After all that drama there was absolutely NO WAY that I was going to miss the ride! Can you believe that I still had to wait in line?!?! All those people who were originally behind me were too selfish to let me back ahead of them. But I was a trooper. I had conquered the “dumbo line torture” and was not going to be defeated. To make matters even more trying it began to rain, and I’m not talking about a little drizzle. It was pouring! I was drenched even before I got on the ride. As soon as I got on my dumbo seat thing I tried to salvage my experience. It wasn’t meant to be. My dumboi was stuck on the lowest so I wasn’t able to go up. Instead I was forced to stay at ground level. At this turn of events I decided all in all that it wasn’t worth it.

Since then I've never been to disneyland and I've only ridden a ride once. You never know when and where disaster will strike. Especially in my life.

Runaway lawnmower!

Living in the country makes it so that there is plenty of lawn for everyone. This also means your screwed if you don't have a ride on lawnmower. I remember when we first moved from the city to the country. Once I saw the ride on mower I was quick to volunteer for lawnmower duty. After my Dad showed me the ropes I was good to go. There's nothing like driving a lawnmower at 3 mph when your 10 years old. Feelings of immense pride come over you as you mow, row by row, all afternoon. 10 year olds take these jobs seriously.

I remember once I decided I needed some company out there. After a while it gets boring so you have to come up with some sort of entertainment. Bored with the things I usually came up with, I invited my twin Brandon to ride with me. We had ourselves some real fun! Going around the yard at 2 mph (2 because of the added weight ), both squished on that little drivers seat... oh yeah. Good times! Well after a while of this Brandon got bored and decided to make things more interesting. He informed me that I needed to pop the clutch so he could change our speed. He obviously wanted a change of pace so I did it. As I clutched he threw it from 2nd gear to 6th! In the blink of an eye we went from 2 mph to 20! We went careening around the yard, both screaming at the top of our lungs, (me out of fear, Brandon out of pure delight). Once I recovered from the shock of it, I decided to get back control. I quickly went to clutch only to discover that it was stuck! At that moment Brandon yelled particularly loud. I looked up and was greeted with the sight of a huge tree stump right in our path. I yanked the steering wheel and, causing on side of the mower to become airborne, and we barely missed what probably would have been a tragic collision. At this point Brandon realized if he wanted to live he better had better help me stop the mower. I was finally able to clutch, but then Brandon couldn't change gears! I was just about to give the order to abandon ship when he finally was able to pop it into neutral and our ride ended.

We sat there for a minute or two, relishing the fact that we were alive and no major damage had been done. After making a quick recovery we decided we were done for the day. Brandon went inside while I parked the mower. Not wanting to ride the thing, I put it into neutral and pushed it. Now we parked the mower at the top of this decent sized slope. It was steeper than it looked. I had to push the mower a little ways down the hill to where we parked it. As I began to go down the hill I quickly came to the realization that I probably shouldn't push the mower down the hill. The mower had other plans though. As it picked up speed I put all I had into stopping it. I dug my feet in and held onto the back hoping that would work. Riiight. The mower shot down the hill dragging me along behind it. For some reason I thought I could stop it, even when I was being dragged spread eagle. The thought to let go didn't occur to me until I saw the tree. THEN I let go. I probably should have held on seeing as the mower completely missed the tree. I on the other hand crashed full force into it.

The mower probably planned it that way...

Blond Moment

Today I was shopping at safeway, getting some things for my mom. Usually I know where everything is, most of the time I can find what I'm looking for. As I collected the items on my list I began to feel a sense of accomplishment, I mean, how many guys aren't able to do that?! Waay too many! Anyways I got to the last thing on my list and hesitated for a second. The last thing on my list was a dozen eggs. I had to think for a second, usually I get eggs at Costco. I thought for a second then went in search of the dairy and produce section. I quickly found the section, at the back of the store, and began looking for eggs. After 2 minutes of intense searching I began to wonder where they kept the eggs (and if they even kept eggs at this store). Not wanting to ask for help I did one last scan for the elusive eggs and came up with nothing. They were not there! No big deal. I would just find a worker and ask where they kept their eggs. Luckily there was a worker right in the isle right behind me, so I asked her where they kept the eggs. She looked at me kind of funny and pointed to the little display thing I was leaning on. You know those open freezers that lay flat at the stores? The ones that usually have beef or chicken in them? Well the one I was leaning on was full of egg cartons! I didn't even see it! As I grabbed the eggs and walked away I thanked her for pointing them out to me. 

She was laughing to hard to say anything back.  

Clefs

In music there are a variety of different clefs. Treble clef, alto clef, tenor clef, bass clef... and so on and so forth. As a violist it is pretty much required that you know these clefs. Because of the violas range many composers will change the clef in the middle of a piece to make it "easier" for the violist to read the notes. Most of the time it is easier. All the time though it is confusing trying to remember what clef your supposed to be in, especially if your changing constantly from alto clef (the violas clef) to treble clef (the violins clef). 

Recently our quartet performed its first contemporary piece. The piece was composed for quartet and choir. It was a beautiful piece. The chording was very cool, with a lot of suspensions. At our first rehearsal with the choir the composer came and helped us put it together, giving us his ideas for different sections and what not. After we had played through this one spot he looks at me and says "in measure 201 your out of tune." (I only play 3 sixteenth notes in this bar). I looked at the notes, played them, then told him those were the right notes. He came over and scratching his head was like "It doesnt sound right..." We played it a few more times and he was like "please look at that at home." 

As we (the quartet) packed up and left I vented a little. "I dont care if you wrote the piece those were the right notes, and they WERE in tune!" My brothers and sister agreed with me. Obviously the composer was thinking of something else. Well 2 days later we went for our weekly coaching session in Portland. Having worked on this piece with our coach a few times he wanted to know how the rehearsal had gone. We promptly told him about the notes in question and he asked us to play it for him. After we played it he told us he thought it sounded good. He didnt see anything wrong with it. Then all of a sudden he was like "Oh! what clef are you in?" I look and was like "uh... alto?" He shakes his head and says "treble". I leaned forward and took a closer look. Sure enough I had been playing in treble clef 2 measures before that and should have still been in treble clef. Instead I automatically switched back to alto clef, and thus was playing the wrong notes. The problem with that kind of mistake is that when you play in alto clef instead of treble, the pitch is off by a seventh. In other words its plain way off. 

I was so embarrassed! Here I had been playing this part for a month and a half and the whole time I was playing it wrong! To make things worse, I thought the composer was crazy for thinking my notes were wrong. Talk about a major lesson in humility.

If you play viola take my advice. Watch out for those evil clefs!

Posts

Hey everyone, 

Due to some complaints, I have decided to post something at least once a week, if not two. However, I do not promise anything. 

Have a great day. 

The Slide of Death

Have you ever been in an embarrassing and scary situation? Embarrassing cause its... well embarrassing and scary because you don’t see a way out? Well these situations seem to happen to me quite often. I don’t really know why either...

 

Anyway about 2 years ago my family was visiting relatives in Sisters, Oregon. If you've ever been there then you know that there's nothing once you get outside the city limits. Its like you're in the middle of nowhere. After a week of fun and visiting we left for home. For some reason we made a stop at this motel headquarters place thing and while my parents went in the rest of us decided to hit the little playground. 

 

We had the whole place to ourselves. Not a single person in sight. Dating back to my youth, I have always liked slides. True story. Never met a slide I didn’t like. Well this playground had a little enclosed slide. Nothing to get excited about really. I went down a couple of times, just for kicks and decided it wasn’t worth it. A little while later my youngest sister, Katherine, 5 at the time, challenged me to a sliding competition. Not one to turn down a challenge I accepted her game of slide. Big mistake!!!

 

If you're youngest (and smallest) sibling EVER challenges you to something find a way to "try" then politely decline. 

 

I politely let her go first and she started things off with a bang! She doubled up over her legs and went down the slide backwards! I was impressed. As the oldest brother I take pride in the feats that my siblings can pull off. After she had gone down I gave her the proper amount of applause and prepared for my attempt. I was just contemplating what I should do when Katherine turned to me and said "Ha! You cant do that!” Challenging me in fun is one thing. Taunting and daring is another, even if you are family. I turned to her and said "oh yeah? Watch this!" Looking back I see that I should've put aside my competitive juices and declared her the winner, like something out of "Little House on the Prairie". 

 

Anyway I got up there, sat, turned around, doubled up over my legs, and launched myself. It was a good run, till I got to the point where the slide curves at the bottom. I came to a sudden and complete stop. Not good. There I was facing backward, hands reaching toward my feet, stuck in a little kids slide. After a few seconds, in which my siblings expected me to come hurtling out of the slide, I made my mayday call, "hey guys! I’m stuck!” There was a shocked silence. Then pandemonium broke out. People began to laugh, ask me how I was stuck, try to get me out... complete chaos. One brother tried pulling me out the bottom, but that didn’t work cause every time he pulled I could feel each disk in my spine stretch to the point of severe pain. My other brother tried to reach down the slide to pull me back up, but envisioning him falling in and killing me (or worse, crippling me) I screamed at him to keep himself at least 5 feet away from the slide. 

 

After those failed rescue attempts I did what every kid in a precarious situation does. I yelled for my mom. Screamed is more like it. Usually a mothers voice has a soothing effect on the victim in question. Not this time. As she came walking over (yes, walking) I could hear her laughing hysterically. That really didn’t have a "calming" effect on me. There I am stuck in a slide, panicking about how their going to get me out, and my own mother is laughing at the whole thing! And I have to say that I was in a lot of pain. My body was not made to be in that position for that amount of time. 

 

Once my mom came over she called for my dad. He couldn’t think of anything either. I was starting to get desperate. Thank the Lord I didn’t have to go to the bathroom! We would have been in BIG trouble. So finally (I really don’t know how) they were able to pull me out the bottom without causing damage to my back. Once I was out I just lay on the ground, stretching out my back, breathing in the fresh air, and just being thankful for freedom. After a few seconds I became aware of laughing. Like a lot of laughing. You know how I said we were the only ones there? Well as soon as I got stuck people began to pop up out of nowhere. Seriously. There must have been at least 10 other people besides my family. They all came over thinking it was some little kid stuck in the slide, and when they saw me pop out they busted up. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so embarrassed. It was quite humbling. So after I had recovered we got back in the can and drove happily into the sunset. 

 

Oh, and in the van, Katherine was like "see, I told you you couldn’t do it!" 

 

She was the undisputed champ. 

 

Give your all.

Are you giving your all?

 

Ponder that question for a while, it’s important. Are you giving your all, going the extra mile, or are you just doing enough to get by? It’s easy to fall into the trap of mediocrity, especially in this day and age. Personally I like nothing better than perfection. Yet quite frequently I find myself doing just enough to get by. Talk about lame! That kind of work ethic will get you nowhere.

 I know this isn't at all like the normal post you expect from me, but it's something that I've been thinking about a lot recently. 

As a follower of Christ, I try to serve Jesus in all that I do, even the little things. It’s hard though. I am far from perfect. It’s only by prayer, and the grace of God, that I am able to put my best foot forward.

 

“And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ.” Colossians 3:23

 

Remember this verse brothers and sisters in Christ, the next time you are tempted to do enough to just get by. Don’t sell yourselves short!

 

For everyone reading this post, it takes hard work and endurance to get anywhere in life. Don’t fall into the trap of mediocrity and “going with the flow”. Be the best that you can be in every situation you find yourself in. Don’t settle for less.

 

Give your all. 

Problems

Playing in a quartet has given me opportunities to see different places. Near and far. I like to compare the experience from one place to another, and see what difficulties (better known as problems) always come up. 

One problem that always seems to come up is space. Two violists, one violist and one cellist cannot fit into a small space with chairs and music stands. Especially when all those players are over six feet tall. Its just not happening. For some reason though people think we can fit anywhere. Here's how a typical conversation will go, regarding "where to put the musicians".

Lady #1: "Where should we put the musicians?"

Lady #2: "Oh put them up against that wall"

Lady #1: " I was going to put a table there"

Lady #2 "That's fine, way too much space just for the musicians anyway"

Lady # 1 "What about that small nook over there?"

Lady # 2 "Oh that's perfect! We'll just shove em back in there. Perfect!"

They think that we can fit in a space 3' x 3' no problem. What's really annoying is when we get there and have to try to squeeze ourselves in there. Its pure torture I tell you! 

I always seem to have the misfortune of doing what I call the "bob and weave". Since I sit on the outside I have to constantly be on the lookout for people who think they can somehow walk through me. That's where the "bob and weave" comes into play. When someone is coming close to walking into me and or my instrument (whichever is "in their way") I bob or weave out of their path. Usually I only have to move a few inches. Sometimes though, its like they expect me to move a few feet. You can only do so much while your playing, in a chair I might add. 

Whenever I think about this problem my mind takes me back to a gig we had a few years back. We were playing for a wedding at a mansion. It was a gorgeous place. I was just beginning to think that we might be in luck, looked like there was plenty of space for everyone, but at that moment the wedding coordinator said, "You can set up right in there." as she spoke she pointed to a small alcove off to the side. I looked at the space and shook my head. How can anybody look at a group with two guys over 6' 5" and put them in a small space like that?! Without a second thought! 

Anyway... after we did the limbo getting setup it was time for the wedding. Wouldn't you know it that the whole wedding party had to walk past us to get to the designated spot for the ceremony. Seriously there were only 2 feet between me and the wall, and the whole wedding party had to go through there. Not good. As we played and they came by, I was desperately trying not to poke anyone with my bow or trip anybody. All in all nothing major went wrong. Sure I poked a few people, but I did my best. At least no one did a face plant because of me. 

After the ceremony, (yes I did have to dodge the wedding party again) we played for the reception. Unfortunately the reception was at the same place, so we stayed in the same tiny place. As the party wore on, the room attached to our "space" (this room was small too) began to fill to overflowing. It became impossible to play without poking someone, or having someone bump into me. I pretty much gave up hope and began counting the minuets till we left. During a climatic moment in the party a guy backed into me and leaned on me like I was a piece of furniture! He was there for a good 90 seconds! And when he finally moved he didn't apologies, or acknowledge me as anything more than a piece of furniture!! I mean come on. Give me a break. 

There's really nothing you can do about these situations. You've just gotta go with it and come out on top, being the victor. It's up to us to rise above it all in the face of adversity. Let that be your inspiration for the day. 

Go forth and rise. 

"All exit doors open out"

Exit doors open out. 

Meaning you have to PUSH (not pull) them. I discovered this fact at our last orchestra concert. I went to the door and gave it a good pull. When it didn't open I tried again (always try more than once). After many efforts to pull the door open I concluded that the door must be locked. Thus began my quest to find the janitor...

As time wore on I think the building grew of few hundred square feet. I could not find that guy anywhere! He probably heard that the principle violist was looking for him and decided to hide in a secret room. You might ask, "couldn't you have gone out a different door?" Yes. I probably could have, but it was the principle of the matter. That door was the closest to where I was parked. It wasn't supposed to be locked, and I plain wanted to use that door!!!

Anyway... When I finally found the janitor I explained the problem and quickly led him to the troublesome door. Once we got there I demonstrated how I was pulling the door so he could see that it really would not open (when I first explained the problem he didn't believe me). When my demonstration was done he looked at me like I was a crazy person out to waste his time. Then he very deliberately stepped up to the door, looked at me, (ok glared) and PUSHED the door open. Then, and this is a direct quote, he said, "All exit doors open out!!!" I didn't let this small mistake get to me. Instead I got my gear, PUSHED the door open and left. 

The next day I was filled with gratitude for the janitor who was so kind to take time out of his busy schedule to teach me such a valuable lesson. Its not everyday that one learns such important things. I mean if there was a fire in a building, and I was the person closest to the door, I could have endangered the lives of others thinking the door was locked. Now that I know the truth I wont be a detriment to society. 

Fast forward two weeks. I'm at the Schnitz Concert Hall, leaving actually. I step to the doors and remember the words of that wise old janitor. "All exit doors open out!!!"  With this in mind, I energetically push the door and go to step through.... Let me tell you a little secret that most people probably don't know. ALL EXIT DOORS DO NOT OPEN OUT!!! I came to that conclusion after peeling my face off that glass door. 

There's your random, but brilliant, advice for the day. Take it to heart my friends. You never know when you will need it. 

"All exit doors do not open out". 

Random Inspirations of Brilliance

As I begin this blog let me first say that I am a violist and nothing I say can be used against me. Its not me, just the way things are. Ok, it might be me... ;)

So the purpose of this blog is to give you all a glimpse of well... random inspirations of brilliance. We all have moments when we come up with the most brilliant ideas (brilliant to ourselves, not necessarily others). Some people have these moments more than others. I would put myself in that category. 

Just recently I figured out how to fully operate "Word Document". It is safe to say that I am not known for my accomplishments in technology. ( Word Document technology? Right. Now you know how "slow" I am with computers.) Let me tell you, I feel quite brilliant after managing to foil words mission to fry my brain. I am now very much in control and even enjoy working in word. I used to ask everyone for help, but not anymore! 

Did that last sentence sound like a lame and cheezy "success story" that you hear on the radio every now and then? I thought so. Moving along...

I cant really say that I had any inspirations of brilliance today. Oh!!! I came up with the name for my blog! Naming your blog is not some little thing to take lightly. Nothing like naming your dog, cat, fish, or anything else for that matter. It takes time, effort, and even sacrifice. The name of your blog gives others a glimpse of your identity. You absolutely cannot let pride get in the way of a good name! I think I was rather successful with my name. What do you think?

Thats all for now. Just a very small glimpse of things to come. Be sure to stay tuned and pass this blog on to others. 

Brilliantly yours,

Benjamin