Monday, January 16, 2012

Banjo lessons a reminder of the big picture ~ January 14, 1999


David Heiller

Learning new things isn’t easy, but it sure can be fun.
I bet watching students learn is one of the greatest reward for teachers. Watching your children learn is great too.
Our son is picking people’s brains these days about rifles. He’s learning a lot. He’s reading about motorcycles. He’s excited about them, and expanding his knowledge.
Our daughter is practicing her one act play parts, and getting better day by day. Her singing is getting better too because she is practicing her songs for voice lessons. She’s learning a lot, improving too, and it’s fun for her. The key word is fun.
Malika and David playing at the Askov Fair.
These days, playing the banjo is my favorite learning activity, although when I call it a learning activity it doesn’t sound very fun. But it is.
My wife, Cindy, bought me two banjo instructional videos for Christmas. When Ι have a spare hour, I put a video tape in, and learn a song, or try to.
The teacher, plays it through slowly, and breaks it down into parts. She’s a good teacher, very patient. And if you don’t get it, you can rewind the tape until you get it again. It’s a perfect way to learn something like the banjo, better than a face-to-face lesson in many ways.
I feel like I’m making progress on the banjo thanks to the tape. It’s hard. It doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does for some people.
But I’m learning new things. It’s exciting and fun. I wouldn’t be doing it if it weren’t fun.
I've been playing the banjo for about 22 years. I’m not “all that good,” although some people would disagree.
Stringing the banjo and the baby...
For example, last summer I was playing the banjo at my mother’s house, and some kids who were riding by on their bicycles stopped and listened. Nothing will stop a kid in his or her tracks like live music. They thought I was pretty good. As they were leaving, one of them said, “You’re the best banjo player I ever heard.”
That prompted another of the kids to wax eloquent and say, “Yeah, you’re the best banjo player Ι ever heard.”
The kids were about eight years old, and I doubt very much if they ever heard anyone play the banjo before. It was pretty funny.
Sometimes my playing ability bothers me, because after 22 years, I should be really good on the old five-string, and I’m not. The insecure, competitive side of me thinks that.
On the other hand, a banjo teacher I had in college told me that if Ι practiced six hours a day for a year straight, I would be a good player. That’s what it will take, he said.
I didn’t have that kind of time in college, and that was before I was married with two kids and a job and commitments galore. I sure don’t have that kind of time now. Most of my practicing gets done late at night, when the kids are in bed and the house has settled down, and my brain is shutting down.
Cindy is patient with me. She shuts the bedroom door to get her sleep. Quite often Noah will call down for his bedroom to say that he can’t sleep with me playing. I respect that, and I quit playing then. I’ve heard it more than once in my life.
Not having enough time to pursue the finer things in life can be frustrating. But I usually keep in it perspective.
Here’s a quote I read recently that I like from a banjo player, Ian Perry; in a magazine called Banjo Newsletter.
“Playing music should be an expression of your feelings and the person you are inside. It’s too easy to be tempted by flashy licks a the opportunity to impress people with what you see as your incredible talent and ability. But the banjo isn’t a competitive sport (or at least it shouldn't be!) And you may find that if you think too much about technique or trying be a better banjo player than someone else, you will be missing the best of what playing music has to offer.”
That sums up my feeling about learning it doesn’t apply just to the banjo. I bet it applies to your job or hobby too.
Have fun, and keep learning. That’s the key to the big picture in whatever you do.


Monday, January 2, 2012

A wimpy winter, and no fans here ~ January 17, 2002


David Heiller

Ι walked out of the sauna Sunday night, a smile crossed my face. I was recalling our Christmas sauna, when my brother-in-law Randy, my nephew Collin, and I took a sauna.
It’s one I’ll remember for a while.
Randy asked Collin if he was going to roll in the snow. He said it with a tone of voice that raises a nine-year-οld’s dander. Α challenge.
Collin took the bait.
Collin ran out and did a quick roll onto the snow which lay thick on the ground. Then he ran back in as fast as a boy can move. He threw the challenge back at Dad, who followed his son, and Randy moved about as fast as a 37-year-old man can move.
Then it was my turn. I hadn’t done that since my own kids were little.
Malika and Cynthia, apres sauna.
We loved our saunas.
When I flopped in the snow, I remembered why. There is nothing quite as shocking as cold snow on a hot body. It felt as if needles pricked my whole body. I ran hollering back into the sauna. The stove glowed red, but I still almost climbed on top of it.
I was thankful to Randy and Collin for instigating the dip in the snow. As John Mellencamp would say, it hurt so good.
Which leads to my sermon for this week:
We’re getting wimpy.
Twice in the last week I heard people say how much they were enjoying this winter.
What winter? Other than that snowfall right before Christmas, we haven’t had a winter. No 20-below nights. No 20-inch blizzards.
A roll in the snow now would be hazardous to one’s health. There is no snow!
A friend of mine said the other day that he didn’t miss the snow and cold at all. He is an avid gardener, and this weather is just that much closer to nirvana, when he can start seeds and break ground.
One side of me wanted to agree. I look forward to that too. It has been an easy winter, and spring doesn’t seem so far off.
But the other side of me says no.
For one thing, we are missing some great activities. In my case, it is cross-country skiing and snowshoeing. It is a great feeling to strap on the snowshoes and tramp through the woods. Feel those muscles work. Shed a pound or two. Look at animal tracks, and see the woods from a higher perspective.
Skiing holds similar joys. Ι don’t snowmobile, but Ι know their sport is equally exhilarating.
Much as we joke about how long our winters last, it’s a relatively short time that we can romp in the snow, often just three months.
There are other benefits of a hardy winter. A blizzard is good for the soul. It’s good to hole up, good to hear the power of Mother Nature. Good curl up with a good woman! (The caveman comes out in winter.)
We slow down. Plan things out. Think things through. Read more books, play more music.
Many businesses suffer when there is a 12” of snow. With today’s economy, that winter commerce is critical to keeping afloat.
But just as important as all of this, the real benefit of a rip-snorting winter is how much it makes me appreciate spring.
Ι don’t need that, you say. Maybe not. But for me the joys of spring are somehow connected the severity of winter.
Mankind has walked on this earth for about 50,000 years. For 49,900 of them, we have been putting up with real winters. So I say our inner soul, Neanderthal or otherwise, needs a good winter.
But I don’t think I’m going to roll in the snow again for another 10 years or so.