Tag Archives: Grace

Why It’s Better to Fail Outloud

trumpet-2Mrs. Caldwell was my elementary school music teacher. She had the  quintessential look of a spinster school marm. Long black wool skirt, white blouse, black cardigan sweater, long braided hair coiled on top of her head, pinned in place with a sharp pointy thing.

Reading glasses perched at the end of her nose, held by a chain around her neck, Mrs. Caldwell had a stern look and an air of prim authority.  She was intimidating.

Despite all that,  I liked her. She was a great music teacher.

Though I come from a family of musicians and teachers, it was Mrs. Caldwell that taught me to read music. She patiently and clearly explained music theory, how to subdivide measures, to read key signatures, and to play scales. I use what she taught me to this day and I’m a darn good sight-reader because of her.

Sure, I was embarrassed the day she pulled a nail clipper out of her purse and forcibly trimmed my fingernails in front of my classmates. But she was right, my nails were interfering with my violin playing.

So when she told us things I listened. She urged us to work on our tone. To make a pleasing sound with our instruments was the whole point of music.

She often told us this – “Play loudly so I can hear your mistakes. If I can’t hear them,  I can’t help you correct them.”

I took her advice, graduated to trumpet, worked on my tone and developed a good sound. Over time I got pretty good, good enough to win a spot in a college jazz ensemble, then be recruited away to another school.

I arrived  a week before their spring concert. I learned the charts and was ready for my debut. Halfway through that first program it happened. My test of Mrs. Caldwell’s theory on mistakes. Continue reading Why It’s Better to Fail Outloud

Grace

CommutersFirst, I want to thank all you commuters out there. Thank you for doing it so I don’t have to. I admire your strength and endurance.

I don’t believe in commuting. Sure, I used to, but after a strong, concerted effort, I got local. That was 7 years ago and I haven’t commuted since. Until yesterday. Had a big important meeting in the City. Left home at 7 am, got home at 7 pm. Stood for close to 2 hours on packed trains.

I was out of my normal routine and making a mess of things. Got out the door late. Wasn’t going to make my scheduled train. In traffic, I slowly realized I wasn’t going to make my backup train either. Not at the station at the end of the line where I’d get a seat. Diverted en route to a closer station. Better to stand than to be late.

But there were no open parking spaces. Desperate, I parked in a permit-only space, ran across the pedestrian bridge, forgot to pay for parking, and in the time it took for my credit card to fail twice, I missed my train. Technically I made my train, but not into it. The doors closed right in front of me and I could only groan as it slowly pulled out of the station. Without me.

Mathematically, I could still be on time. The next train was scheduled to arrive 2 minutes before the start of this super important meeting. If I hustled and took the right exit from the station, just maybe… Continue reading Grace