Sunday, May 29, 2005

The Definition of a Bad Idea ...

Yesterday, I was in the city for voice class. My class is at 11 a.m., but at 11 a.m., I was holding my friend Jeannie's newly adopted daughter Maizie in her nursery.

"What time is your class?" Jeannie asked.

"Eleven," I said as she looked at the clock and then back at me. "But there's another class at 3 p.m. I can go to that one."

Maizie fell asleep in my arms.

Later, I met Jay for lunch. Told him that I was going to meet up with Music Dave later for a DVD handoff, and had the seemingly-brilliant-at-that-exact-moment idea of Dave attending class *with* me.

Gwen, my teacher, is totally cool about guests in class, but all guests have to sing, too. No one sits in that room silently. Cool, right? Dave's a musician. Dave's a singer.

Seconds later, I realized that if Dave came to class and sang, that meant I'd have to sing in front of Dave.

Yeah. We went to Starbucks.

Where, actually, he sang a bit, to illustrate a point about a U2 song we were discussing.

It's odd and perplexing that the man who inspired me to sing again after a long, self-imposed silence would be the last guy I could sing in front of. Even in class, where we're supposed to make mistakes.

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