Favorite Things

It's hard to express how I feel about music; I'd like to get lost in it and never find my way out. I like to try to create music by singing (most of the day you can hear me attempting this feat); however, I can't quite make it sound like it does in my head. I thought I always wanted to sing in a band, but when given the opportunity, like last Friday night at Collision, I find that it's quite terrifying, and I can't wait to get off the stage.

Is it possible that something you fear and dread can eventually become one of your favorite things?  Perhaps.  I have a lot of favorite things: sea turtles, cats, lizards, birds, expensive paint, exotic paintbrushes, tiny over-priced cubist canvases, coffee table books with glossy pages, the color of Theresa's beets that she made me eat, novels by George Eliot, leather journals from Barnes & Noble, songs by Thom Yorke, stories about how people found God, or how God found people, leather boots, good coffee after a good meal, cotton scarves, good friends crowded together in a small room, happy endings in real life, family members... All of those things, as far as I know, I loved from the start and didn't have to fear and dread first.  All of them except family members, of course.

I had a moment worthy of my favorites list today when a friend mentioned that, because the Bible says we ought to mourn over sin, he once threw dirt from the garden on his head in mourning over a foolish thing he'd done that caused someone pain.  I laughed hysterically when I heard it, but wouldn't you like to have a friend like that?  We'd all be better off if we mourned a little more, I think.  Perhaps they were right in canonizing Solomon's stuff after all.
Well, I have a lot of dirt to throw for my vocal performance on Friday.  Maybe with a little practice I can turn the whole affair into a joyous one for both me and those forced to listen.  Dave, please plug my monitor in next time.