Today has been a laugh sensation. This morning, I spent another hour trying to figure out why my new software for burning CDs isn't working. I've tried everything in the book (and a few things that aren't) and carefully followed the e-mail support service instructions. Nada. When at first you don't succeed, try something else for awhile. The Gospel Messengers were coming over this morning, so I started setting up my tape machine for recording. It's been several months since I used the equipment, so it had a strange, other-worldly glow to it, but I found everything and got it all hooked up. When I tried recording with it, no matter what settings I tried, nothing was registering from the microphones. I fiddled with that for a half hour, and then Joe and Frankie arrived. My tenor Derrick has moved to Florida, so this was our first practice after going back to being a trio. Just watching Joe walking up the sidewalk and wincing as he climbed the porch steps broke my heart. Three years ago, Joe was suffering so much from back problems that he couldn't stand up straight, or even walk across the room. Extensive surgery mostly corrected that problem, but now his knee is deteriorating, and at 81, he's facing knee replacement surgery. He is so upset about it that he doesn't even want to talk about it. A major part of his upset, I'm sure, is that he doesn't want to lose the Messengers. So, even though he didn't want to talk about it I wanted to make it clear that I can push a wheel chair as well as the next guy, and if I can get him into a wheelchiar, he's still my bass. When we started practicing, there were some songs that just wouldn't work without a tenor... some of our favorites. So, we had to adjust and find the songs that still worked well as a trio. A man who had expressed an interest in singing tenor in the Messengers was invited several times to come to the practice, but didn't show. Probably a blessing.
After practice, I went down stairs to scan and print some photographs for my wife on my new scanner. And couldn't get it work. You can probably still here the sound of hysterical laughter.
But you know, it made me realize something. If you want success, you have to visualize it. I see the Messengers with a fine new tenor, and for as long as it takes, Joe singing in a wheel chair, or using a cane. I visualize myself figuring out how to use all this stupid electronic equipment and can see how joyful it will be to hand a stack of CDs to Joe and Frankie to pass around to friends. I visualize myself figuring out why my tape recorder wasn't working, and Derrick here at the house with the guys while we tape a final three or four songs for the album. He is supposed to come back up here at least once before they are permanantly moved to Florida. And I visualize myself figuring out how to use my new scanner (and actually was able to print a few photos for my wife, finally.)
Several years ago, I worked with someone who might be brushed off as being hopelessly unrealistic. He was always coming up with new ideas and was filled with enthusiasm. After we talked them out for awhile, most of them didn't turn out to be practical. But some did. They were fine ideas. I used to tell him, "Norm, you're my kind of man. You believe you can do anything. As often as not, you can't, but if you didn't believe you could do the things that work out, we could never do them."
If you believe you can do something, you may or may not be able to. If you don't believe you can do something, you can't.
Sometimes, visualizing succeeding helps for me. It may not always turn out as I visualize it, but it's the best way to tackle a problem for me.