The Tribulation of the Choir Director

Let me walk you through my day: First, I had to cover for the Elder's Quorum President today in Ward Council. Normally that isn't a big deal, but since we have the early session this year, I had to be at the church at 7:00 a.m. That means I had to get up at 6. Again, not that big of a deal. However, since the choir was performing today in sacrament meeting, we had rehearsals before church started at 9:00 a.m.

Right after Ward Council, I called home to make sure everyone was ready to be picked up. No worries there. So I race home to find out that Benjamin had thrown up in the 15 minutes it had taken me to get home. Leslie had to conduct Primary today so couldn't stay home and I had to direct the choir so I couldn't stay home. We quickly decided that I would take the non-sick kids to sacrament and then I would come home and Leslie and I would switch.

With the kids loaded up we raced back to the church, thinking I was going to be late for the choir rehearsal. Two people showed up. Two. Normally no big deal. But we haven't practiced in the past few weeks due to several different issues. (Is Valentines day really an excuse to bail out on choir? I mean, church gets out at noon and if someone REALLY needs to be with their spouse that bad that they can't stay for the 45 minutes after church we have for choir practice, who am I to say otherwise?)

So there I was, sitting in sacrament with 4 kids wondering if anyone was going to bother getting up when it came time for the choir to sing. Lucky for me, they did. Not very many, mind you, but at least there were some. (I may be overreacting, but it seems like our ward choir has been getting smaller and smaller since I was called as the director. Meh...whatever...) We sang "Love at Home" - first verse in unison, second verse guys on melody and women on the alto line, and last verse in all 4 parts. We sounded like a typical small ward choir. I'm not judging, but I do have to keep reminding myself that none of us are professionals and with so few of us, I have to really scale back on my music selection (like strictly out of the hymn book. Luckily we have a fantastic piano player who is able to embellish the accompaniment beautifully.

A quick 15 minute run back home saw me rushing in the house and Leslie out of the house. The car engine was never shut off and I felt like high-fiving my wife while yelling "You're It!" Ben was asleep and the rest of my morning was fairly quiet. I think I was supposed to go home teaching today as well, but my companion and I never really touch base with each other and, since I wasn't really at church today, I didn't think about it until just now.

As a brief follow-up from my last post, apparently everyone in my entire world has a facebook account. Who knew? There is a lot of stuff that I just don't quite understand yet and (justified or not) there are a lot of things that the privacy freak in my head is screaming about. (i.e. I wouldn't mind playing a game or two on there, but when it asks for permission for some third party to access my personal information I tend to say, "Huh, what do you know? I didn't want to play that as much as I originally thought...") Overly paranoid? Possibly. I've accepted this about myself. I'm not sure how much I'll use it, but there it is. If someone wants to get in touch with me, they now can.

Hey You...with the Face!

So I did the nigh unthinkable last night: I made a facebook account. I've never really been a fan of social networking sites (for a lot of different reasons). However, I made an exception because I came across some familiar faces from when I was a pre-teen/teenager. Egads...not that I want to relive those years, but it's nice to be able to get in touch and say "Hi!"

Besides, it's interesting to see how the other half lives their online life. I'm chalking this whole thing up in the "Social Experiment" catagory.

ID Badge Creed (With Apologies to Riflemen Everywhere)

This is my badge. There are many like it, but this one is mine. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my badge is useless. Without my badge, I am useless. I must use my badge properly. My badge and I know that what counts in a badge audit is not our intentions, apologies, or the excuses we make. We know that it is the beeps that count. We will make it beep.

My badge is human, even as I am human, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strengths, its parts, its accessories. I will keep my badge clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other.

Before my co-workers I swear this creed.

To Everything There Is a Season...

The process of writing down my thoughts seems strange on a very esoteric level. (Don't worry, I don't know what that means either...it just sounds good.) In my general, everyday life, I have random thoughts (or strings of thought) that are triggered by some sight, sound, other thought, etc. When it runs its course, that is the end of it. It is forgotten.

Taking the time to capture those thoughts in writing is what I consider the hallmark of a great thinker. If you can't organize and relay those random ideas, it is just internal background noise.

But when effort is put into it, even if it is one short sentence, then it can be looked at, expanded (even if over a loooong period of time) and become the bais of something greater. How many times have I heard about someone who wants to write a book but never even starts?

Ursula K. LeGuin (one of my favorite authors as a youth) wrote about this when explaining her response to the question: "How do I become a better writer?" She gives a two-step process: First, learn to type. Second (and I'm paraphrasing here) put something, anything, down on paper. The best way to learn is to do. She also mentions that her response tends to irritate people.

LeGuin has a point, though - one that made a lot of sense to me (and still does). I spent a lot of time in late high school and early college writing whatever came into my head - dreams, observations of classmates, snippets of fiction, random thoughts. I remember even writing about not having anything to write about. I just kept my pencil moving.

In college, my English 201 professor was, by far, the best writing instructor I ever had. I actually enjoyed his class. However, when it came to the final paper, I was at a complete loss. No matter how much I struggled with it (in hindsight, I probably could have spent more time in the struggle), I couldn't get started. So I dithered and delayed until the second-to-last day. (I'm sure none of you have been in that situation.)

In desperation, I just started writing. It was supposed to have been a research paper, but it ended up being some complete farce of fiction where a private-eye detective was looking for a topic. I wish I still had a copy. I was so embarassed that I was turning such tripe in that I came in on the last day, threw my paper on the pile, and left as quickly as possible. (There was no official "final" test - the paper was it.)

To this day, I have no idea what that man thought about my paper. But, by all I hold honorable and true, my final grade in that class was an A. It was the only A I received that semester. I dropped out of college (again) a semester or two later, and I never saw that professor again.

Nowadays, I have gone back to just letting the random thoughts come and go. I feel bad about it, honestly. Especially when I'm reading some of these classic books, I feel I should be recording my thoughts so I can review and expand on them (such as my thoughts about the senator from Uncle Tom's Cabin and how that relates to other areas of politics). The easy thing to do would be to mark it down to personal laziness, but I can't believe that is the whole issue. (Of course, I could just be fooling myself. Maybe it is due completely to being lazy.)

Sure, every now and then I break out with a blog post that goes a bit deeper than surface thoughts and actions. But, admittedly, they are few and far between. I'm not sure I'm at the point where I want to commit to writing every day. Let's face it, writing a stream-0f-consciousness blog post (like this one) is easy. Wrting something with a set purpose is harder. Writing something with any redeemable value is harder still.

Maybe what I need to do is write a stream-of-consciousness book. Yeah...(heavy on the sarcasm) I'm sure publishers would love something like that. I do have some ideas I would like to explore, but this time in my life might not be the right time.

To everything there is a season...

More Updates

Sheesh...seems like I've been playing catch-up too much lately. But, ah well. Here's the latest scoop:

I just finished reading Black Beauty, which I thought I had read before but apparently I haven't. I didn't realize (or forgotten) that it was written from the horse's point of view. It's one that I think I might have to read to my girls. They would absolutely love it.

Since I finished that, I've moved on to The Miracle of Forgiveness. I decided to move off the fiction again and go on to something a little more "weighty." I've read parts of this before, but never cover to cover. I'm only on the third chapter, but I realize I have some spiritual things I need to work on/fix in my life.

Along those lines, Leslie and I bought an exercise bike last week. With the exception of Sunday, we have both put in a half-hour a day so far. I found out a few months ago that I was officially overweight...not but much, but there it is. So I'm doing something about it.