Day in the Life of a Mediocre Guitar Player – Part 4
I think I have always enjoyed music. I loved to sing in church back in the day. Then as a teenager, I decided that I needed to learn to play the guitar. I also realized I was horrible at it. I quit playing for several years and picked it back up in college. Last summer, I auditioned for one of the acoustic guitar positions in the praise band at Travis Ave. I learned very quickly that I am not a musician. I just sing and can pass as a guitar player. I can read music enough to know if when I am singing I should go up or down on the scale. They throw out things like, “This is in 3/4 time.” At that point, I either give them a blank stare or just nod my head as if I know what they are talking about.
I noticed today that interesting enough I can think about quite a few things while I am playing. One of the songs, I had to start playing the intro. I was making a decent attempt at keeping time in my head.
“1…2…3…4… change to an A …1…2…3…4… change to a D…I’m kind of hungry…2…3…I wonder where we are going for lunch…change to an E…2…I don’t know how I’ll pay bills while I’m in Cambodia…3…Something doesn’t sound right…(Look at sheet music)…Oh, crude, I’m playing the wrong chords…Ok, playing the right chord now…Concentrate…Don’t screw up again.”
All I can think of is that they must be hard up for a guitar player to keep me around.
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Day in the Life of a Bum – Part 3
So I had plans today. I asked off work about three weeks ago, but I did not foresee the massive thunderstorms that would wreak havoc on said plans. So around eleven I finally got ready and out the door. I was going to drive to Cabela’s and wander around for a while. Before my epic journey through Cabela’s I was going to stop and get some barbecue. I stopped off at Sonny Bryan’s. I had been in the mood for BBQ all week so that hit the spot. They also had cherry cobbler. It had real ice cream, not that soft-serve junk that is squeezed out of a machine.
So with a full stomach, I proceeded to begin my pilgrimage to Cabela’s. Apparently, everyone else in Tarrant County had the same idea. I wandered around for a few minutes. I spent a few minutes looking at tents and sleeping bags. Then I saw the price tags and moved on. I passed the gun department as well as the archery. I passed up the fishing department and found myself walking back outside. I had spent less than 10 minutes inside. I realized that there just is not much at Cabela’s that interests me. I enjoy being outdoors. I like camping. If I am not too out of shape, I like to hike. But none of these things warrants me going to a giant sporting goods store.
After I a few hours, I got home and watched tv, read, and play some games. There is part of me that enjoyed it, but there is another part of me that feels like I just wasted my day off. Oh well, maybe next time.
Day in the Life of a Pizza Delivery Guy – Part 2
This Friday morning began like most any other Friday morning, an epic battle of wills. Will I lie in bed until 30 minutes before I need to be at work or will I get up early and be productive? There is a reason sloth is one of the seven deadly sins.
What can I say about delivering pizzas? You cut the pizza, put it in a box, then in a bag and you deliver it. Rinse and repeat for 8 hours. I did notice some things about some of the new personnel that have begun working at our store in the past month. In the past, if a manager needed me to stay past my scheduled time, they would ask nicely. If I said no, they accepted it and let me go. However, the shift manager I had tonight tried to guilt trip me. She told me that both of the orders she was giving me were late. I told her I would stay. I had already stayed 30 minutes past time because our general manager had asked me to stay. I was trying to get away to get to a friend’s going away party.
So anyway, I got my orders and began driving to the first house. I looked at the ticket. This order was not late. The second order had 20 minutes left. At this point, I was aggravated. If this manager had asked me nicely and not tried to guilt me, I would not have had a problem with it. However, she stretched the truth to make me stay. I got both of the orders to the correct houses before the promised delivery time. I was expecting pizzas that were 30 minutes past their promised time.
One ritual we have as drivers is that once we have cashed out for the evening, we complete some task for the manager to lighten the load for the drivers that will be closing. I have no problem with this. I will wash some dishes or take out the trash, no big deal. But, when a manager has asked me to stay over an hour past my scheduled times as a thank you, they should just let me go after I cash out. That was not the case tonight. I got back and had to fold boxes before I could go home.
This is probably just because this manager does not know me and I do not know her. One of my last manager’s would try and guilt me by giving me sad puppy dog eyes but she also understood that I was tired after eight hours and just wanted to go home. Maybe as I get to know this new manager better, things will work better.
Day in the Life of a Web Developer – Part 1
I have been attempting for several months to write more often. I would like to get into the habit of writing everyday. I have read that forcing yourself to write everyday increases your creativity. I decided what better way to find material than to write about what I spend 6-8 hours being paid to do.
So, I spent my morning working from home because I had a meeting with a contractor in Mansfield. I did not see the point in wasting gas in driving to Fielder and then back out. I got to Fielder close to noon and sat down to work on the web redesign. I got approval last week to scrap the DotNetNuke CMS (content management system) we were trying to shoe horn to meet our needs. So this week I began full force writing my own CMS system specifically catered to the needs of Fielder Road.
Then this afternoon I had a meeting with the Missions minister. It was a conference call with a contractor pertaining to the new missions’ website. Ideally, I would also do that site but the Communications Team has decided I need to concentrate on one project and not spread myself too thin. I have realized looking at proposals from these design companies than when I was freelancing, I horribly undercharged. I once charged a client probably 10 times less than what some of these companies are proposing for even less of a product. Granted I was in a depressed market in a semi-rural area. I guess that in the MetroPlex you have to charge those kinds of prices in order to stay in business.
Aside from all these meetings, I spent most of my day correcting items on our old website. Sadly, that is how most of my days end up. I sit down to focus and begin coding and a problem or a meeting interrupts me. The stuff I’m working on requires I sit for several hours by myself focused on the problem. I feel like I spend all my time in meetings anymore and it feels like nothing gets accomplished at least in internet communications arena.
When the church body no longer looks like you.
It struck me yesterday while we were having our monthly all-staff luncheon at Fielder. Both the church I work at and the one where I am a member are both in urban areas and the ethnic makeup of the communities around these churches is changing.
I listened to the pastor at Fielder share his vision of bringing Fielder out of the past where everyone in the church was predominately Anglo to a multi-ethnic church. He made a statement that every church, in the same position, that has failed to adapt and reach out to the new community has died.
I am reminded of this every weekend when I go to work at Pizza Hut. My store is less than three miles from Travis Avenue where I attend church. There is a mixture of Anglos, African-Americans, and Hispanics. I also have coworkers from Mexico, Sudan, Algeria, and Croatia.
I can either attempt to try and stay in my safe little Anglo haven at work or home or I can realize that the world is moving to our doorstep. Many a believer in Christ does not need to make a missionary journey like Paul. They simply need to talk to their coworker, the clerk at Walgreen’s, or their next door neighbor. I feel like God is telling us, “How much easier do you want me to make it. I am dropping them at your doorstep. I just want you to be obedient and go share the Good News with them.”
