Bettering Myself

It occurred to me recently that I could really stand some bettering. I don't think I've picked up a new skill in about a decade or so. Is there a term for someone who's the opposite of a Renaissance Man? South Jersey 1980s Man, perhaps? Well, whatever it's called, that's me. I'm the kind of guy who talks about taking classes and things of this nature as if they will occur one day in some fantastical future, where the stars have aligned and suddenly the inclination to turn conversation into action rains down as if a gift from the universe. But now I've discovered that heavenly kingdom right here on Earth. It's called moving to a strange (and let's be honest, somewhat boring) new city, having no friends, a ton of time on your hands and a relatively unusual spike in disposable income (owing, mostly, to having no friends). Oh, plus I work at home, alone, which makes any occasion at which human interaction might occur seem somewhat fantastically appealing.

OK, point being: I am a goddamn good swing dancer, at least by beginner swing class standards. Who knew? Yeah, the bar is low, as most of the dudes in my class are about as light of foot as Frankenstein. But still, I'm taking an unbelievable amount of pleasure in not only getting out there and appreciating something new, but actually not being bad at it.

[Note to single guys: If you're having trouble meeting girls and possess even an iota of rhythm, I highly recommend a swing class. You can practically hear the wedding bands clanging to the floor as you twirl the ladies around with even the slightest hint of competence.]

As if swing dancing weren't enough, last night I ventured to Chevy Chase, MD, for my first drum lesson. I have always wanted to play the drums, yet never managed to pull the trigger. Now, at 33, it just feels like the time to start doing this stuff. I'm not getting any younger or cooler. So there I was, sitting at a drum set with absolutely no idea what was what. My instructor kept saying things like "snare" and "eighth note" and I just stared at him like a buffoon, or at least like a buffoon who doesn't know how to play drums. The bulk of my appointment was spent trying to determine whether or not I should play left- or right-handed (I finally chose right, though I'm left), which decision, by the way, constitutes something of a recurring and annoying theme for those of us in the minority. Practically every time I've taken lessons of any physical sort (golf, tennis, piano, drums, dancing) I've felt behind the curve and thoroughly befuddled (you can't imagine how often my dance instructor refers to the male's "strong right arm." uh, I don't have one of those). Fortunately, sitting at a drums set felt so dramatically foreign that neither way felt good. Might as well go with the majority. And since my instructor plays right-handed, it's gotta be easier to learn.

Anyway...the drums. Sheesh. Judging by the idiots I went to high school with who could play the drums, I was expecting it to be a bit easier. Then again, after about 25 minutes I was able to sort of jam along w/ my teacher and a pre-recorded bass track. I can't imagine such a thing is possible on, say, guitar. I told him my goal is to be able to play with friends one year from now. He said I'd be there in 4 months. We'll see about that, but either way this has already been a vastly rewarding experience. Now I'm losing sleep over 16th notes and the Charleston, as opposed to my stagnated writing career. Progress!

Now the question is: what's next? The obvious choices are learning a foreign language or how to cook. But I'm also thinking of doing something outlandishly DC-appropriate like prepping for the Foreign Service Exam. Now THAT would be a good story. And obviously I can't stop thinking that it will be like the test from Spies Like Us. Better start working on my 3rd arm! (Oh man, that shit still kills.).

More to come. Perhaps in Italian...

Writing

Well, I have not written anything in quite some time, and it isn't that nothing has been going on, or that I haven't had any ideas on what to write, but that I'm just not in the mood to write anything at all lately. In fact, I've shelved all my writing projects for the time being, and have instead been trying to focus more on filmmaking endeavors: sloooowly getting ready to pursue funding for my documentary, teaching myself Final Cut Pro, and taking way too long launching a Super 8 production company. All good things to do with my time, I think, and yet the writing itch sort of beckons (itches?)....or maybe it doesn't. I don't know. I feel guilty not writing, yet I don't think I actually feel like writing anything.

Oh well, back to Guitar Hero....