No Talent? No Trouble.
There are people in the world who honestly think that they have no talent. This is
silly of course. Everyone has talents. For example, I think most of us have a talent for
consistently choosing the longest and slowest line in any store. Also for forgetting
names. Other talents are more specific. In my case, watch batteries die much more
quickly than they should. My husband, Dave, has taken to buying them in bulk.
Electronics in general are problematic for me. The people in tech support have come to
my office many times, kindly ready to help me, the clueless old person, only to come
away baffled themselves. “I don’t understand why this isn’t working!” is a phrase I often
hear from IT.
I’ve learned to live with it. I’ll take failing electronics over Dave’s talent anytime.
He has a sad gift for choosing unavailable menu items. The poor man will finish some
big project, and we’ll go out to celebrate and he’ll have his mouth all set for prime rib
and then, “I’m sorry sir. This is very unusual for us, but we have just run out. Would you
like to try…?” This happens everywhere. And it’s not as though he’s ordering difficult or
strange items. We could be at taco bell, “I’m sorry sir. We’ve just run out of tacos; would
you like to try…?” He’s become philosophical about this and usually picks out a backup.
It’s annoying for him, but even this is better than my daughter, Catherine’s gift for
disaster.
It isn’t fair she had this problem when she was growing up because she wasn’t
an adrenaline junkie going out of her way to risk her life. Instead, she simply attracted
danger that was in no way her fault. I’ll give you two examples. When we were moving
across country, the guys who had come to help had just finished loading up and all of us
were standing behind the truck marveling that it had all fit. Then for no reason at all, a
metal bed railing came shooting out the back, missing all the tall men surrounding
Catherine to smack her in the head! After we got her stitched up, we took her out for ice
cream where they had just run out of bananas for Dave’s banana split.
A few years later, she was peacefully walking on the sidewalk on a sunny day,
when suddenly, a deranged bird came zooming out of nowhere, stabbed her deeply in
the arm with its beak and flew away. The trip to the emergency room that time was
extra scary because we didn’t have the bird and so didn’t know if it had rabies. But after
several visits, each followed by ice-cream, (“I’m sorry sir, we just ran out of hot fudge,
would you like to try…?)” she was declared rabies free–a mixed blessing in her eyes,
since now she had no excuse not to do her homework.
But she’s not alone. There is at least one lady out there with a similar gift. I read
that she, like Catherine, was just walking on the sidewalk in
the middle of the day, when a live porcupine fell out of the sky and hit her on the head.
The doctors extracted over 200 quills, and it was just a mercy that the porcupine didn’t
hit any older people or children (later, authorities guessed that the porcupine must have
somehow been sleeping on top of a lamppost and happened to fall off as the woman
was walking underneath). I just hope she was able to take some time off. I’m all for
being stalwart, but when it starts raining porcupines it’s time to call it a day and hide
under the covers.
So, if you feel bad because you don’t sing or draw or play an instrument and you
think others are far more talented than you are. Take heart. There are many talents you
don’t have that you don’t want. Be grateful.
silly of course. Everyone has talents. For example, I think most of us have a talent for
consistently choosing the longest and slowest line in any store. Also for forgetting
names. Other talents are more specific. In my case, watch batteries die much more
quickly than they should. My husband, Dave, has taken to buying them in bulk.
Electronics in general are problematic for me. The people in tech support have come to
my office many times, kindly ready to help me, the clueless old person, only to come
away baffled themselves. “I don’t understand why this isn’t working!” is a phrase I often
hear from IT.
I’ve learned to live with it. I’ll take failing electronics over Dave’s talent anytime.
He has a sad gift for choosing unavailable menu items. The poor man will finish some
big project, and we’ll go out to celebrate and he’ll have his mouth all set for prime rib
and then, “I’m sorry sir. This is very unusual for us, but we have just run out. Would you
like to try…?” This happens everywhere. And it’s not as though he’s ordering difficult or
strange items. We could be at taco bell, “I’m sorry sir. We’ve just run out of tacos; would
you like to try…?” He’s become philosophical about this and usually picks out a backup.
It’s annoying for him, but even this is better than my daughter, Catherine’s gift for
disaster.
It isn’t fair she had this problem when she was growing up because she wasn’t
an adrenaline junkie going out of her way to risk her life. Instead, she simply attracted
danger that was in no way her fault. I’ll give you two examples. When we were moving
across country, the guys who had come to help had just finished loading up and all of us
were standing behind the truck marveling that it had all fit. Then for no reason at all, a
metal bed railing came shooting out the back, missing all the tall men surrounding
Catherine to smack her in the head! After we got her stitched up, we took her out for ice
cream where they had just run out of bananas for Dave’s banana split.
A few years later, she was peacefully walking on the sidewalk on a sunny day,
when suddenly, a deranged bird came zooming out of nowhere, stabbed her deeply in
the arm with its beak and flew away. The trip to the emergency room that time was
extra scary because we didn’t have the bird and so didn’t know if it had rabies. But after
several visits, each followed by ice-cream, (“I’m sorry sir, we just ran out of hot fudge,
would you like to try…?)” she was declared rabies free–a mixed blessing in her eyes,
since now she had no excuse not to do her homework.
But she’s not alone. There is at least one lady out there with a similar gift. I read
that she, like Catherine, was just walking on the sidewalk in
the middle of the day, when a live porcupine fell out of the sky and hit her on the head.
The doctors extracted over 200 quills, and it was just a mercy that the porcupine didn’t
hit any older people or children (later, authorities guessed that the porcupine must have
somehow been sleeping on top of a lamppost and happened to fall off as the woman
was walking underneath). I just hope she was able to take some time off. I’m all for
being stalwart, but when it starts raining porcupines it’s time to call it a day and hide
under the covers.
So, if you feel bad because you don’t sing or draw or play an instrument and you
think others are far more talented than you are. Take heart. There are many talents you
don’t have that you don’t want. Be grateful.