On Playing the Harmonica and Doing Other Things Badly

The odds are good that I am the most musically-challenged individual you will ever meet. As a product of a private Catholic elementary school education whose music program consisted only of a worn-down piano and a couple of chimes, I was never acquainted with music in the way my friends and younger siblings were in public school: with shiny new recorders, pianos with working keys, and the opportunity to perform in well-attended spring concerts. Sure, I sang in the children’s choir every Sunday, but at that age everyone sings well, even if they’re off key. And when I eventually did pick up an instrument – the guitar in the third grade – I was told right off the bat that my fingers were not made for strumming, and that they acted as if they had a mind of their own. Needless to say, I was not devastated to let drop music off my educational radar.

Fairly recently, I was again reminded of how musically inept I am. Not purposely or maliciously, of course, but just enough to make me reconsider my artistic priorities for just a second. I love going to my cousins’ home, where every meeting is accompanied with music in some form, whether it is jamming to my cousin’s band’s new songs or polka dancing on Wigilia or even the giddiness that breaks out when a relative plays the accordion for a song or two (man, it’s too Polish for our own good!). I guess you can say that just hanging out with such a fun family is enough to inspire me to try out music again. This, of course, is true. But I also believe that there is a little part of me that feels like a moocher sometimes, taking in all this music without anything to contribute to the whole.

So, here I am, acquainting myself with my new Lee Oskar diatonic harmonica: favoriting how-to videos on YouTube and practicing drawing and blowing notes just loud enough to bother the dog. I can’t say that I am a natural. What I can say, however, is that I actually played both the Twelve-Bar Blues and the harp solo from the Beatles’ “Love Me Do” today, and what I played actually sounded how they were supposed to. For this moment of recognition, this novice musician is grateful.

P.S.

I almost titled this post “On Training for a Half-Marathon and Doing Other Things Badly,” but realized that I am a much worse musician than I am runner, although that isn’t saying much. I finally hit the ten mile mark on Wednesday, and an old woman I passed along the way let me know that I looked like hell. On the bright side, I convinced myself out of throwing up during or after the run, although I was pretty nauseous for the rest of the day. Awesome.

In the interim...

Apologies for the recent absence of posts -- sadly, life sometimes gets in the way. Here's what I've been up to since the break:

- Visited the University of Minnesota - Twin Cities for its MFA program's recruitment week. Met some really cool people, had a Mary Tyler Moore moment, and got really lost in some parts of Minneapolis. Despite my misadventures, however, I ended up falling in love with the program, and I am thrilled to announce that I will be attending U of M in the fall for poetry! I feel very lucky.

- Survived that brutal March 13th nor'easter. Luckily, we didn't lose power for too long, nor did we lose any trees on our property, but threats of our sub-pump malfunctioning kept us up for many a night.

- Ran my first 5K race with friends. Despite wiping out within the first fifty meters (I'm still working on that whole coordination-on-land thing), I'm happy to say that I finished in one piece! I'm running another 5K this Saturday, all in preparation and anticipation for my half marathon in May.

- Wrote a lot. I think I've finally got this whole writing-schedule-thing down pat.

- And, lastly, worked a lot of odd jobs. Man, I can't wait for grad school.