Something good happened recently, and I was partially responsible for it. But I worried that if I talked about, or worse, wrote about it, it would seem self-aggrandizing. Then I talked about it with someone, and I recontextualized it.
You may remember that I wrote about the passing of my friend from my previous church, Jim Kalas. I wrote, “Sometime this century, Jim told me that he wanted How Lovely Is Thy Dwelling Place sung at his funeral, which will be on October 1 at Trinity.” I called the Trinity church office to inform someone of this fact. The office administrator gave me the email of the choir director.
The choir director wrote back to me saying he’d be out of town. But he must have sent a message to his small choir because Nancy, who I used to sing with, managed to wrangle a total of 15 of us to perform it at the service, with a previous keyboardist accompanying us. And I was pleased about this outcome
Someone pointed out that I did it to honor Jim’s memory, and I know that intellectually. Moreover, I was told, and this is correct, that I should appreciate my gift of remembering this particular detail. The fact is that, deep down, I know I have skills. Also, I like to be useful. But certain parties, and I shan’t go into who, I allowed to short-circuit my confidence for a time.
Not Shecky Greene, but an unreasonable facsimile
It’s weird. I’m finding these situations where I, in small ways, can bring talents I didn’t even know I had to bear. It often surprises me. Someone asked me to introduce the raffle at an event after church. My general position is usually to say yes and then figure out what I’m supposed to do. I take it that I was pretty good at this brief gig, and I was even occasionally funny. It was an odd self-awareness at the moment.
So I can say, hey, I wrote the foreword for a book that will be published next year, written by someone in the comic book field. I gave them the first draft, having no idea what I was doing or how long the piece should be, yet they really liked it. Now I have to write a brief bio of myself, which will be interesting.
I am a patron of the podcast Coverville. Every month, I send host Brian Ibbott a list of musical artists whose birthdays are or would have been divisible by five. I suggested for September that he group together three deceased country legends, Patsy Cline, Gene Autry, and Jimmie Rodgers. And he did, namechecking me at the end.
Hang on to your ego
It was an ego boost, and I must remember that it’s not all a bad thing. Apparently, several people told Mark Evanier that Samatha Bee’s show, Full Frontal, was canceled, but I was the one to send a link; I was mentioned.
I was talking at the library with two people about different types of intelligence. But I noticed this person I did not know nodding their head knowingly, as if to say, “Yes, I think I’ve been underestimated.” And there were other situations, one involving chairs, another regarding a sartorial suggestion that worked well, plus a couple of things that have since slipped my mind.
I guess I’m saying I’m okay being okay.
