2013 has been a good year for learning new shit.  I’ve gone from someone who never ever cooked to somebody who, more or less, can find his way around a kitchen (although I’ll note that I haven’t cooked in a bit; I’ll fix that tonight– chicken tikka masala again, and something new this weekend) and I had my first ukulele lesson yesterday.

I was really, really hoping for a good story, guys, but it didn’t quite happen.  There’s not much room for shit to go wrong in a half hour of instructional time, and I think if I tried to force it into a good story it would devolve mostly into making fun of my instructor, who seems like a good guy and is obviously quite musically talented but… well… picture an eighteen-year-old who’s way way way into instrumental music and then turn down his social skills a wee bit in your head.  He’s kinda hilariously, adorably awkward, is what I’m saying, and adorable is not a word I apply to teenage males all that damn often.  He spent most of the session showing me the right way to do things, then when I noticed (key word: I noticed) I was doing them wrong, telling me that my way was also right.  I was kinda picturing somebody who was gonna be repositioning my fingers on the frets, right?  None of that.  I don’t think this guy is too comfortable touching people.

That said, I’m going to take this seriously and spend some time each day between now and next Tuesday practicing on the five notes or chords or finger positions or whatever they are that I sorta-learned during our first session.  I’ll save the pedagogical observations for when I think he has a better student.

I am hoping for a busy, productive day today.  Yesterday was mostly unmitigated nonsense from start to finish punctuated by an actual hurricane which trapped me in the mall, of all fucking places, for like an hour and a half, where I was accosted and abused by a kiosk employee who began her sales pitch by rubbing cream on my arm, unsolicited.  I was able to tear myself away once she pointed out in what might have been an Ecuadorian accent that the cream she wanted me to buy cost $125.  No, sorry, I’ll stay dirty, g’bye.

Oh.  Also, David Lee Roth.  No, I’m not sure why either.  But yesterday had lots and lots of David Lee Roth.