My wife and I were at an event the other night, and were talking to another couple about dancing. I admitted that I had once spent a fortune on ballroom dancing lessons, but could never remember the moves from one lesson to the next. My wife is a tap dancer, and has what she calls “the chip” that allows her to recall lyrics and steps without hesitation. I’m envious of this skill, and proud of her abilities. I just wish I had some of my own.

I run every day but I’m not good at it. I am good at discipline, that somehow drives me to do it day-after-day as I have now for 3,356 consecutive days. I’m not the rabbit but rather the tortoise. I did once win a blue ribbon in my age group for a 10k race, but that was because it was fifteen below zero and not too many runners showed up. I had a little bit of talent shooting marbles, playing ping pong, and even pool, but only after a lot of practice. There was also a game called Labyrinth (I still have it) that my dad brought back from Sweeden. It involved moving a steel ball through a wooden maze without falling in any of the holes along the path. I could beat anyone in that, but only because no one else had the game but me. I can also still do a lot of push-ups, and struggle through 88 of them every morning before my run, so you may not want to challenge me – if you’re 66 or older.

I don’t have an exceptionally high IQ, so I’m not always the sharpest tack in the room. I also have big ears and skinny legs, so I’m not model quality. I certainly don’t have much patience, so I tend to get frustrated and give up easily. I once built a sand volleyball court in my back yard, but it was rarely used for anything other than a litter box for the neighborhood cats. When it comes to downhill skiing, I tend to be more of a tentative slip & slide more than a graceful swoosh. Baseball is one of my favorite sports to watch, but I only played in a few little league games. However, I could hold my own in slow-pitch softball by hitting it where they weren’t, but never had much of an arm. In high school, I was an average golfer and basketball player, and did some wrestling and track, but never achieved a letter – except in choir. Musical instruments sat around unused, and voice lessons were useless, although I once believed that I could be an opera star. I did buy a brand new ukulele just after retirement, but despite the encouragement of a friend, it’s gathering dust like the piano I never learned to play. My wife can tickle the keys but rarely does. I may have embarrassed her, and now wish that she would flaunt her talent. 

I promised myself I would learn to cook in retirement, and each week I try to prepare one evening meal. The problem is I barely have the motivation to even fix myself a peanut butter & jelly sandwich when I’m home alone during the day. I’m out of my element when I’m in the kitchen, just as it is on the golf course, tennis court, or bowling alley. I have an occasional moment of glory, but it’s usually followed by a whiff or gutter bowl. I’ve ruined expensive cookware & silverware, and have badly butchered expensive meats. My wife tries to set me up for success by providing recipes, doing the shopping, and even laying out the ingredients. I’ve hit a few home runs with wings, beer can chicken, and brine pork, but more than often fall short of expectations. It will take more practice, but my wife is even losing patience.

I’ve burned sweet potatoes, over-seasoned crock-pot dishes, and under-cooked pricy meats. Last night, my chicken sat on the grill for two hours and still wasn’t done. I try to follow recipes and instructions and in the process make a mess of the kitchen. The cream corn that is essentially “can to pan” somehow turned out watery, and my wife had to move the chicken from the grill to the oven “to get the red out.” She tried to ease my concerns by justifying that the outside temperature was just too cold for “low and slow” cooking. I then somehow burned my hands on the cooking sheet and lost my temper. Even though the chicken was tasty, my attitude was intolerable. I get very stressed-out on my cooking day, but I’m bound to get better. She’s right, I haven’t made an effort to learn from my mistakes, and I need to be more of an interested student to improve my culinary skills. Practice does makes perfect! So far, however, I’m the same klutz in the kitchen that I was on the dance floor.