Recently in Samuel Category

This was Sam's weekend with Saturday given over (the entire day from 9 am to 10 pm) to his dance recital and Sunday to his Royal Academy of Music Piano exam. About the latter, there is little or nothing to relate, so the bulk of this post shall refer to the former.

Sam was in five dances on Saturday--tap, hip-hop, ballet, acro, and jazz. (Doesn't this begin to sound like the set-up for a logic problem?) In each case, as the only boy his age in the troupe, he was noticeable and something of a centerpiece.

The theme of the recital was "A Trip to New York" and this first tap dance was called "Tourists." It was danced to a song that sounded vintage 1920s or 1930s but could have been of more recent day. The entire troupe acquitted themselves very nicely given the rehearsals and the classes we had seen. In fact, more than very nicely, they were all pretty much in synch and the dance went off without a hitch. He has also passed the age at which he spends a lot of his time looking off-stage expecting prompts and help from the teachers.

The second dance was our least favorite dance-class of the year and the one I keep threatening to withdraw him from. Unfortunately, it is also his favorite. The Hip-Hop dance was titled "Double Decker Bus" and was danced to some piece called "Double Dutch Bus." He was the busdriver and I have to admit, as a performance, the piece looked far better than it did in rehearsals and practices and he did a really fine job (I suppose). It's really hard to evaluate whether one is doing a good job in hip-hop because much of it looks like a barely controlled seizure to me. However, the audience appeared engaged, and that, I suppose, is one sign. Even among parents ardently interested in their own children's performance, it is difficult to get much of a reaction to the performances of others' children--and this received a warm welcome.

The third dance was his ballet and it was really spectacular for me to see. Titled "Little Italy," it was danced to a vaguely classical sounding Tarantella. After a balletic version of a folk dance, Sam had a short solo consisting of a run around the half-circle of girls, four "air-splits" (or whatever the move is called, where the dancer jumps straight up with legs outstretched) and two tournes-en-leve--a simple jump and spin. What was really neat about the whole thing was that Sam managed to keep toes pointed and good form throughout the dance. Throughout this year of dance, he had been afflicted with a severe case of spaghetti arms, but there was no sign of it during the recital.

The acro piece was done in rainbow colored Tina-Turner wigs and danced to The Chipmunk's version of "Funky Town." Sam is still coming into his own on acro, but I was astounded by all of the moved I saw, including a set of one handed cartwheel two girls did while holding hands. I can't imagine the coordination that takes.

The final dance was Jazz. Performed to "Jailhouse Rock," I was once again astounded by two things--pointed toes and "jazz hands." Jazz hands, for those who don't know the terminology are hands shown with fingers widely splayed. Sam's spaghetti arms also tended to afflict his Jazz hands, but he managed them quite capably.

Overall, the performance showed to me something that I seem to see time and again. For an audience, Sam can do amazing things. The audience energizes him and really brings out the very best in his performance. While practicing and running through the routines, not so much. But wow, give him an audience and he'll have them eating out of his hands.

As soon as I transfer them, I'll try to have some picture for you all.

What can I say to ten years of complete blessing except, "Thank you, Jesus."

As we were preparing the guest list for the festivities Saturday, Sam mentioned the name of a person he had known some time ago. This person tormented him and threatened him and had he been a few years older and in a different place probably would have spent a good deal of time beating him up. In short, a brutal bully. Yes, I know this is more a reflection on family and upbringing than necessarily on the child; however, one must recognize the truth of the matter, this was not a person you wanted to be around. He asked to invite this person and we asked why in the world he would want to. Sam said, "What about 'bless those who persecute you'?"

I said, "We are to bless them, but not invite them to come and persecute us."

Sam remained quietly adamant. And probably rightfully so. Nevertheless, that name was not added to the guest list.

On the way home the other day he was talking about his falling domino project. He said he had drawn up a blueprint for a new one. In addition he was very excited about a new idea. "If you parachutify a domino and blow it in with a fan to start the whole thing tumbling, wouldn't that be cool?

Finally yesterday he was discussing the hoary old trope about the many similarities between the assassinations of Kennedy and Lincoln. He began with, "When Lincoln was assassinified. . . "

Every day something new, every day something wonderful. "Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me. (Mark 9:37).

Yesterday, while driving home from work, the subject of Sunday's homily came up. I was surprised because when one of our priests starts speaking it is a signal for the shields to go up and to warp out of there for the brief span of the homily. There's nothing really wrong--the homilies just tend to be long and picaresque, bearing little or no resemblance to the passages that we had just heard. I attribute this to the Priest's advanced age and his 60's-type delivery and his own rather leftist political agenda.

In the course of the homily the Priest misspoke. I am certain, from what I know of him that he did not mean it when he said, "God created an imperfect world."

On the way home (to get back to the point) Sam said, "You know, when Fr. X said that God created an imperfect world, he was wrong. God created a perfect world and then they eated the apple and everything went all wrong."

Even if he's having trouble with English verb conjugations, he got the theological nicety correct. God did not create an imperfect world. His creation is perfect, our disobedience corrupted it and brought it all down with us.

I've often pondered why this should be so--why would Adam's disobedience affect the world of cats and dogs? Why is this necessarily so?

And it occurred to me, that it is, once more, a sign of His love for us. Humanity could not exist in a perfect world because of its own imperfection. It would be a constant stimulus to envy, jealousy, and destruction. The food of such a world would be like poison to us.

Regardless of why it is so, Samuel understood the concept of the fall and applied it better than our Priest in his homily. (Which is, as I noted, unsurprising. This particular Priest has more "off" than "on" homilies, but he has a loving and gracious heart and he works hard for all of us at a time in life when he is certainly entitled to rest, take it easy, and enjoy life.)

Music is his language.

Sam's music teacher scheduled an extra lesson with him to transcribe his newest composition. Apparently she strove gallantly to do so, but she was tripped up by it's complexity and couldn't figure out how to represent part of the composition in notation. He'll be performing it in his next recital. I'm thinking that we're going to have to do a little legwork and see what other help we can get him/what other help we can afford. (The two are, unfortunately, not one in the same.) He's amazingly talented but amazingly undisciplined. To have two fairly formal compositions before age 9 has to be a impressive feat, so how do I make certain that it is properly supported?

If y'all have any suggestions, I would be open to hearing them. In the meantime, I'm just so pleased. I hope to record his two compositions so far and put them up on my x-drive. When I do so, I'll see if I can make them public and steer you all in that direction, or I'll post links here if that can be managed.

I'm so pleased for him and so pleased for us to be blessed with such a talented and generally pleasant child. I complain so much about so many things, it is important to note that in all of the important ones, God has blessed me beyond measure.

Once again Samuel got a Superior in the local piano judging. This makes him eligible for the state competition, which, for various reasons, we probably will not attend.

However, what is most remarkable about this is that Samuel achieved his superior while playing a required piece from a book one-year in advance of his present level.

I don't know how they do all these things, but his book is rated a year higher than his "grade" in piano. However, Samuel is a good deal more advanced in understanding if not practical ability than one year. He's already capable of composing variations and "voices" of his subject matter that made it an urgent necessity for his teacher to impress upon him the need to play the notes that are written, not the notes as they are heard in Samuel's head.

I can't tell you how delighted I am for him. But I was delighted yesterday when he was unsure of how he did emphasizing the three important things: You enjoy yourself, make sure your audience enjoys themselves, and do your best. Ratings don't matter, the satisfaction of doing a thing as well as you are capable is the real reward in any sort of competitive interaction.

Now, if we can just instill the idea that raw talent is not enough. . . practice is required.

I'm glad I waited to tell this story because it is ever so much better because of something I learned after the initial "newsbreak."

Yesterday we received two certificates in the mail for Samuel. Back in May, Sam participated in a nationwide evaluation conducted by the Royal Academy of music. The evaulation consisted of playing two different pieces of music, playing pentascales in three keys, playing from hearing alone a brief melody based on a pentascale in one key, clapping out a rhythm that had just been played on piano, and several other points. The certificates were for best in his division for the testing center, and, better yet, best in his division in the entire state. I can't tell you how proud and pleased I am.

His teachers have, all along, told us how talented he is. Naturally teachers, especially in a subject in which parent are willingly shoveling over money, have a vested interest in making you think your child is the next Van Cliburn or Rick Wakeman. Additionally teachers are often genuinely fond of their charges and their perceptions may not be particularly accurate in this regard. To have a complete stranger evaluate him entirely on performance and have this result is deeply gratifying and strangely frightening. Frightening because such talent entails enormous responsibility on our part to nurture and cultivate it, and, of course, I haven't the foggiest notion of how to go about that. So we'll trust God.

That said, we now come to Sam's reaction. Linda was calling all and sundry and weeping copious tears of joy into their ears as she was telling them about this. I'm sure Sam asked her why she was crying and she tried to explain how proud she was. His response, "I don't see what you're so excited about. When they build me a life-size statue--that will be something for my ego!"

Yep--that's Sam.

I have some great news for later, when I have time to write it out. But I was reminded while telling someone about him of an incident in the car the other day.

Sam had done something, what exactly slips my mind. I said to him, "Child, have you no restraint."

His response: "Of course I do, I just don't choose to exercise it."

Linda and I were practically rolling on the floor.