Steps

Well ALLLLLLLRight.

It only took me an hour to try and figure out how to sign in.  I did actually remember my password, but it seemed particularly difficult to get to the page where I supposedly, write.

I had already given up and went in the room to finally go to bed.  But I hate giving up.  I will press on until I find an answer.  So I dug around and finally figured it out.  Not so much with my son's math homework tonight.  I did pretty well..until we got to the dreaded word problem.  (6th grade math..fractions, decimals..piece of cake)  But they threw in this crazy wordy word thing, when people, we were just working on numbers.  I do not have time for actual words to get in my way.  I do not care about your bushels and your barrels.  Give me rock solid numbers and I will kick ass.  Throw in a little curve like "How many cookies will Jerry have to sell to make up blah blah blah.  You lost me at How. 

I remember not liking math at a young age.  If you get behind..just one day..you are screwed.  Really.   You can not miss a day of algebra.  Or, I can not miss a day of algebra.  When you do..for the rest of your school career you have to act like you know what is going on and scramble or cheat or pray that bubble 3 is the correct one to pencil in.   Where as English or Social Studies, one can tie things together and kind of make sense of it.  I remember being lost in math from 8th grade until I graduated from college, because of 1 sick day.   That is a lot of guessing.  While kids were laughing at the ease of it all, finishing well before the allotted time, already in a post test coma..I was sweating, because of the one day I missed the correct way to solve word problems.  I tried to logic my way into a good grade.  I would think of all the reasons Sally would want to ride her bike 15 miles with a cord of wood on the back going to see her sick grandmother who was 89 and weighed 115pounds, so how old was her dog?  Solve for X.  Wha?  I would write things like.."Sally would not carry wood on her bike because she had an Oak allergy.  X = 22. 

I did extremely well in statistics though.  The one dreaded class that everyone spoke of.  The reason?   I had a great teacher.  Funny, engaging and he looked kind of like Stephen Spielberg.  He would come in everyday singing a new song.  Mostly Dylan or Haggard.  Sometimes, Sting.  Sweet Sting.   He made college statistics 338...fun.   I loved the 10 am MWF class.  I even took Statistics 2.  Wait..I think I had to..but either way, it was a great experience.  I learned a lot, got A's and felt smart.  I felt smart.  In math-ish things. 

So this got me thinking tonight, while working with Luke.  One has to know the basics.  Right?  One has to know how to add, subtract, multiply and divide.  Foundation.  Next, one has to follow the steps.  If you skip or forget a step, you are asking for trouble.  You can not fake math.  You can fake reading " A Tale of Two Cities" and get by with the crib notes and maybe write a "C" paper, but not math.  You need to pay attention to the rules.  You have to know that when you look at a cute little fraction of 5/8..they will soon tell you that you have to create a decimal out of it.  And it probably will not come out evenly.  But that's OK.  But but but..I know.  It's crazy.  But it will be useful somewhere in your life.  So they say.  Who ever they are.   Just learn the steps.  Know the steps.  Love the steps.  Know that following the steps now, creates freedom later. 

So how does that translate into everyday life, you ask?  No?  You did not ask that?  Well I think you are being rude..and might need a time out.  You might be one of those people that aced math.  I know you.  You sat next to me and covered your paper really well.  Not that I would have cheated.  That would be wrong..and I might have gotten an A without really knowing the lessons.  Which brings me back to following the steps.

It is always strange to me when I see someone gaining popularity or fame or fortune, without merit.  Without working at it.  Without working hard.  I used to be jealous of freshly discovered singers..rising to the top, having hit records, world tours and fabulous luck.  While I still served baked potatoes to earn a living while singing in little clubs, going to school and supporting myself.  I wished for quick fame, thinking that if I have to ask one more person if they want buttersourcreamchivesbacon and cheese on the side, I would die.  I thought skipping over a few steps would be great!  I would have loved to dance right up to the Grammys and accept my award.  Server to Award winning Song of the Year winner.  I could see it.  I could feel it.  I could taste it.  But it did not happen that way.  Gratefully so.

I had the chance to have my heart broken.  I had the gift of losing someone  I loved with all of my soul.  I had the glory of falling in love and giving birth.  I had the joy of struggle and tears and resolution.  I had the honor of sharing stages with people I would have never known, if my young dreams without steps, indeed came true.  I know the pure love of singing songs that have meaning and spiritual substance that move people.  Move people.  Make them cry or laugh or reminisce.  I can connect to these songs because, like you,  I did not, as far as I know,  miss a step.  I did not skate up to the podium to collect a gold trophy.  My rewards are;  I get to dance with my friends at Gruene Hall.  I get to sing with roosters crowing at Luckenbach.  I get to celebrate Walt's birthday at The Auslander in Fredericksburg every year, followed by a wiffle ball game with our closest friends and relatives. I get to sing on the banks of the Llano River for 100 people.   Sometimes I get to sing on big stages with the lights and smoke and stuff.  It is all gravy now.  I love standing next to Jimmy Davis when he sings "Waiting in the Wings".  I get to sing next to Jimmy Davis.  And my sweet husband.  And our dear talented friends.  I get to hear harmony by Bill Small, right in my ear.    Award won.  No steps skipped.   Word problems solved. 



Sept 21 2012  1:23 a.m. 
Ranger sitting on my feet while I type.