Woody Cavenaugh

Well here I am. I took today to be my fiddle day. The day I apply what is in my book towards making some small progress in the fiddle. I am now convinced that fiddle playing leads to alcoholism. Either it leads to alcoholism or domesticity. Don't think progress wasn't made. I didn't drink a drop because I have fencing tonight, and the house looks terrific! There isn't a dirty dish or an unwashed piece of clothing in the whole house. The carpet is clean too.

I nearly raked the yard.

Basically I heard the deep disembodied voice say, "Voilin wins. Fatality."

I saw the signs though. When we bought the instrument of doom, (I might end up having to name it Barbara or something), we got a DVD to go with it. Estèban's guitar DVD absolutely rocks. Why wouldn't a fiddle DVD be good. I don't know, maybe it was the first five minutes when it explains slowly and with feeling that the DVD was no substitute for professional instruction, and you should buy a book too.

I bought a book. The first page of the book tells me elequently that it is no substitute for professional instruction. It didn't mention a DVD.

What have I learned from the DVD? It taught me how to set up a fiddle, it taught me how to tune a fiddle, it taught me how to hold a fiddle, it taught me that I was going to have to get some professional instruction if I intend to even be "less bad" at the fiddle at some point in my life.

What have I learned from the book? I learned the history of the violin (why does violin sound so much like violence?), I am learning how to read music. I have learned that I am going to have to get some professional instruction if I intend to even be "less bad" at the fiddle at some point in my life.

The only reason the yard isn't raked is I remebered that in the computer room I had something else patiently waiting to kick me in the bean bag. And it did. Twice.