In an attempt to look and act more like Bruce Lee, I took martial arts lessons for a few years when I was still a kid. It was a huge mistake. I quickly started to hate Karate because we would do boring repetitive tasks (like running and horse stance-ing) instead of the awesome spin kicks you see in Enter the Dragon. Plus, I was discouraged by the fact that I didn't get a six-pack within a few days (blame that on my pizza- and taco-eating habits [see last post]).
Despite disliking Karate, I actually really enjoyed the errands my mom and I would do after lessons. These trips weren't glamorous at all, but they held a certain intimacy I have never been able to emulate since I've grown up. We would visit Lucky's (the grocery store now known as Albertsons), maybe stop by at the nearby Mexican restaurant for a bean burrito and walk along a pier that overlooked the local lagoon, all while holding hands. We would then drive home and listen to the SPECTACULAR 90's pop music available on radio (This one was my favorite). If we arrived home before a song ended, we stayed in the car and let the song finish before lugging our groceries inside.
While I still love grocery shopping and Mexican food, I stopped waiting for my favorite songs to end after I started driving myself. Since I've grown up, I have a lot of responsibilities now that constantly tug at my sense of urgency, which pesters me whenever I waste a productive moment. That said, this past month I talked to a few friends that made a few interesting remarks that made me reconsider my extinct habit.
My piano teacher (who is a very busy and extremely forward-minded person) was mentioning that one of the main criticisms her own teacher had of her was that she rarely lived in the present. All of my teacher's present activities were predestined by her own plans and conducted with the future in mind. Her teacher noted the fallacy in performing music, an art form that frequently dwells on what is immediate, while lost in thoughts of future endeavors.
I'd say the majority of people I know don't like taking the bus home, so I generally offer my friends rides. One of them, however, declined a couple times and said she could just take the bus. When I asked her why she preferred a slower method of transportation than the one I offered, she said, "I don't understand why people hate bus so much. I like bus," (she's an immigrant, so don't blame me for bad grammar). That was her simple reasoning for not accepting a ride. "I like bus."
I guess what my teacher's teacher was trying to say, what my friend demonstrates with her ride-boycotting and what my mom showed me when we were finishing our songs is that there is a lot beauty in moments of care-free inefficiency. Basically, good music only comes when you're not constantly staring at your planner; it's nice to take public transit, even though its longer, when you're not in a hurry; there's no harm in letting some raw chicken sit in your car for a few more minutes if you're enjoying some cheesy 90's pop songs.
Today, as I arrived home after a performance that marked the end of a long week of rehearsals and other performances, one of my favorite songs started to play. My hand was on my keys about to shut off the radio when I remembered what my friends said and what my mom did. I uncomfortably released my grip and rested my head. I felt relaxed as I slowly drowned in the song.
"You think I'm pretty without any makeup on..."
Have a nice day,
-Matthew
No comments:
Post a Comment