du [doo]
Making friends is a very slow process for me...one which requires patience, but not from me, because I am not in any particular rush.
When I spent a couple of months in Austria, I became familiar with the Germanic attitude towards friendship. When the need arises to refer to someone with whom you are only familiar with, you refer to them as bekanntnes (acquaintance). Even if you have been getting to know this person for some time, the person is still referred to as such. There comes a point in the relationship where, when one refers to the other using the unfamiliar "sie" (you), there will be an acknowledgement or an invitation from the other to no longer to use the unfamiliar "sie" but rather use the familiar "du". This is a significant hurdle in the relationship, and the two now refer to each other as Freund (friend). We, in the English world, have similar rites, but they seem to be more pronounced in the German society. I call this the German "du" factor.
Rod, a man in my community, has been slowly fulfilling the rites of the "du" factor. When I refer to him, it no longer feels right to say acquaintance, but I wouldn't yet say we are "du" friends...that is yet to come.
The other day, my daughter and I were at his house to pick up his daughter to come over to my house to play. He showed me a set of new nylon guitar strings which he wanted to put on his guitar. I asked him a few questions about the process to see if he was confident to attempt the task. I offered to take the guitar home with me and do the job for him, as it would take me only a handfull of minutes. He declined and looked determined to have a go. Later that evening I received this email from him:
Ode to Brian
(What stringing a guitar has to do with giving birth)
I could still hear his words ringing in my mind
Much like a guitar string rings after the plucking
“Would you like me to take it home and string it for you?”
No, I said, I’ll give it a try. (It’s only six o’clock)
I work with both my hands and my head at work.
I’ve assembled computers from scratch,
Hardwood floors grace the kids’ rooms:
How hard can it be, to string a guitar?
Six strings, six pegs, six turny-things
“How long before you’re done Dad?”
This shouldn’t take long I smile,
Then we’ll have the rest of the night
It’s the things you don’t pay attention to,
The things that suddenly matter.
The old strings are off now but,
Which way did those turny-things turn?
The East Coast comes back as I tie a knot
A simple Figure Eight will do the job.
The pegs are in place and my Tuner is on.
Two more minutes and away we go
Nylon strings have more give, I’ve read
Those turny-things go ‘round and ‘round.
Now string One should sound a little higher
A few more turns should do the job.
“Ouch” is not a sound you expect when tuning a guitar
Nor is the sound of a peg ricocheting off a piano.
But “Ouch” is a perfectly good word to use
When a nylon garrote whips across your fingers
Round One to the guitar, but I’ve leaned my lesson
Set the pegs firmly in place and try again.
“How much longer Dad?” comes from my son.
Five minutes. Round Two will be mine
With six pegs in hand, I find a small bit
To the drill press we go to make this right.
Five minutes later I’m back in the room
Ready to finish this and get on with the show
It was a lesson in physics, and patience and strain
The peg bounced around the room in a similar way
Clearly a different approach was needed
Another trip to the garage should fix everything
String One I tighten until it sounds right
But the Tuner doesn’t register my efforts.
More turns of the turny-things, still no effect.
The auto shut-off – the Tuner’s not on.
Gently I back off string One and reset the Tuner
Bring the tension back up and hold my breath
Success, I tune string One to “E”
Now the Finish Line is in sight
As I tend to String Two my mind wanders,
“How hard can it be, to string a guitar?”
Clearly this is what Women think
“How’s that?” You ask. I’ll tell you.
After Women give birth, they’ve reached a new high
What could compare with the troubles they’ve known
Anything and everything pales in comparison
If you ain’t givin’birth, how hard can it be?
Back to the guitar now, one more string to go.
Luke comes in to the room, looking a little bit older
I finish the job, feeling a little bit wiser
Good heavens! Eight-thirty, where did the night go?
I could have kept this all to myself
Tuck the lesson learned up on a shelf
But I hadn’t the heart, I had to share
I owed it to Brian
(What stringing a guitar has to do with giving birth)
I could still hear his words ringing in my mind
Much like a guitar string rings after the plucking
“Would you like me to take it home and string it for you?”
No, I said, I’ll give it a try. (It’s only six o’clock)
I work with both my hands and my head at work.
I’ve assembled computers from scratch,
Hardwood floors grace the kids’ rooms:
How hard can it be, to string a guitar?
Six strings, six pegs, six turny-things
“How long before you’re done Dad?”
This shouldn’t take long I smile,
Then we’ll have the rest of the night
It’s the things you don’t pay attention to,
The things that suddenly matter.
The old strings are off now but,
Which way did those turny-things turn?
The East Coast comes back as I tie a knot
A simple Figure Eight will do the job.
The pegs are in place and my Tuner is on.
Two more minutes and away we go
Nylon strings have more give, I’ve read
Those turny-things go ‘round and ‘round.
Now string One should sound a little higher
A few more turns should do the job.
“Ouch” is not a sound you expect when tuning a guitar
Nor is the sound of a peg ricocheting off a piano.
But “Ouch” is a perfectly good word to use
When a nylon garrote whips across your fingers
Round One to the guitar, but I’ve leaned my lesson
Set the pegs firmly in place and try again.
“How much longer Dad?” comes from my son.
Five minutes. Round Two will be mine
With six pegs in hand, I find a small bit
To the drill press we go to make this right.
Five minutes later I’m back in the room
Ready to finish this and get on with the show
It was a lesson in physics, and patience and strain
The peg bounced around the room in a similar way
Clearly a different approach was needed
Another trip to the garage should fix everything
String One I tighten until it sounds right
But the Tuner doesn’t register my efforts.
More turns of the turny-things, still no effect.
The auto shut-off – the Tuner’s not on.
Gently I back off string One and reset the Tuner
Bring the tension back up and hold my breath
Success, I tune string One to “E”
Now the Finish Line is in sight
As I tend to String Two my mind wanders,
“How hard can it be, to string a guitar?”
Clearly this is what Women think
“How’s that?” You ask. I’ll tell you.
After Women give birth, they’ve reached a new high
What could compare with the troubles they’ve known
Anything and everything pales in comparison
If you ain’t givin’birth, how hard can it be?
Back to the guitar now, one more string to go.
Luke comes in to the room, looking a little bit older
I finish the job, feeling a little bit wiser
Good heavens! Eight-thirty, where did the night go?
I could have kept this all to myself
Tuck the lesson learned up on a shelf
But I hadn’t the heart, I had to share
I owed it to Brian
The poem having been written, and the unspoken invitation given...I accept your offer of "du", my friend, and extend the same to you.
2 comments:
"Making friends is a very slow process for me...one which requires patience, but not from me, because I am not in any particular rush."
Nevertheless, I appreciate the care taken in letting the friendship form. Many is the time when I've seen too much revealed in a new acquaintance in too short a time. They would then withdraw, possibly out of embarrassment, and the chance of any friendship would be gone.
Lovely...
*smile*
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