Look Ma...No Hands (The Makings Of A Neurological Prodigy)

 

     It is difficult, to put it politely...to be mindful of the looks that are sent my way...to know that I am the subject of covert whispering and speculation...yes, this has become very difficult AND incredibly frustrating. But, not for the reason you may initially be thinking of. I am embittered by how tiring it has become to continually see the looks of envy in the expressions of those around me...as they observe my natural lack of balance...as they note my fluid spills, easily dropped items, and constant fumblings....all the things that have become so easy for me, seemingly without any practice at all.

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     I had a friend in the last years of Grade School, and into the first couple of years of High School that was nauseatingly good at everything he ever tried. I suppose we have all known someone like this, at some point in our lives. Seriously...everything he did. He was the fastest runner, the best at every sport, the guy that every girl in the class swooned over. He could draw amazing pictures, do things with speed, coordination, and accuracy, and...this is where I come in...play guitar brilliantly. We became friends early on (I guess opposites attract, even in friendships...), and together started a band. I played the bass.

     This guy truly had a gift. True story...from the moment he came home his father had put an electric guitar in his crib. His dad had a collection...and Gunther had grown up playing with the instrument. They were a natural extension of him...and it proved itself in his playing. Any piece of music he could mimic after hearing it just one time. The guy was a Prodigy...back in the days when we didn't throw that word around...and Gunther's gift was very rare.

     It seemed that little practice was ever needed...or called for when it concerned my friend and his guitar playing. This brings me back to the situation with my Neurological Agent-Of-Destruction. 

     I am not suggesting that I practice my natural ability to stumble my way through day-to-day life...quite the opposite is true in fact. But I have learned to ignore the reactions of those who truly find themselves in awe the first time they witness my effortless administrations. I used to become extremely nervous when someone would watch me trying to accomplish a task...and usually, I would mess it up...even beyond my abilities. Now, however, I embrace their attentions, and simply let my gifts of bumbling flow. 

     Again, I just wish that I wasn't aware of the jealousy that most feel when witnessing my efforts. It is frustrating...and being a Neurological Prodigy is not all it is cracked up to be.