Exactly twenty years ago today I arrived in my first town in France, Martigue. A small town located in the "La Provence" in the southern part of the country near Marseille.
My head was swirling as I was learning what French really sounded like in real speed. I had studied French in school for years and I had taken a two month crash course before arriving but "OOH LA LA!" I had much to learn!
As we darted down the small streets in an even smaller car with the driver looking at me more then he was looking at the road, laughing each time I stared at him with my look of "what did he just say?", I found real life can be quite a bit different that practice. What's the saying? In theory, theory and practice are the same, in practice they are not."
The reason I am recalling this event today, besides the obvious anniversary date, is because life also has a way of repeating itself. Today I was in our basement, "finishing" it. I have been around construction all my life. When accompanied by an adult, I have even tried my hand at it once or twice . Today I was on my own. I knew what everything was supposed to look like, I knew how things were supposed to be done, I even knew what to call most tools and materials. I didn't, however, seem to be able to do everything like it was supposed to be done.
Like I did that day in France, I worked my way through the problems, stammered through some creative measurements, and in the end...well, I lived to fight another day.
Ask a man a question, he'll give you an answer; Give that man a Blog and he'll spew for the rest of his life.
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