Middle

  When I was in seminary, I took a course in choir directing.  I had to have a music class, and this one seemed like it would be pretty easy.  It was sort of.  

 The first thing we learned was how many beats to a measure.  I knew that already, having done handbells and church choir.  We had to learn that, so we would know how to move our directing arm to the downbeat and to the music.  It was pretty basic.  We formed a semicircle in the classroom, and we all directed a piece played on the piano.  Some students got confused with the beats, but I was pretty good. When I was younger, I would stand in front of a mirror in my bedroom and "conduct" the classical music I heard on my stereo.  This class wasn't much different.

 The next thing we learned was how to find middle C on a piano.  We needed to know this in order to get our choirs in tune.  We then learned where the other notes were on the piano to correspond to the treble clef.  I had never taken piano classes growing up, but I could play a little guitar.  (And no, it wasn't a ukelele).  Once I learned where these notes were on a piano, I could play a song.  It wasn't required of us to play the piano like a professional, thankfully.

 So, I could take one sheet of music and use one finger to play the piano.  It usually takes me about thirty minutes to figure it out.  There is a reason why most choir directors have someone else playing the piano for their choirs.  It is a lot easier to direct than to do both.  

Trenholm

  There was a park in Forest Acres, SC called Trenholm Park.  It had a baseball field and an indoor basketball court.  At one time, they also had a swimming pool.  It was the place to go on a Saturday, but most of all they had a summer camp for the kids in the area.  

 I went one week, when I was about 13.  I had my growth spurt around that time, so I was taller than most of the other kids there.  We played volleyball inside.  My team wanted me at the net to spike the ball to the other side.  The net was short to accommodate most of the kids there.  It was easy for me to do my duty.  It got to be so bad for the opposing side, that one of the camp counselors forbade me to spike it anymore.  Apparently, some kids were getting hit in the head by the ball.  It wasn't my fault.  They should have gotten out of the way.  

 Another thing I liked to do there was play basketball.  Because I was the tallest kid, everybody wanted me to be on their team.  My assignment was to block shots.  I was good at that, even though the referee would call fouls on me.  I think they just didn't want me to play.  I practiced a lot of basketball.  I could shoot free throws really well, mostly underhanded.  My father had taught me how to do that.  The best thing I could do with a basketball was to shoot from the corner.  They didn't have a three-point shot back then, but I would have been great if they had that.  I could get it in eight out of ten times.  I was also really good, when we played H-O-R-S-E on the court.  One of my faults though was a lay-up.  I would be running down the court so fast that I put too much umph on the ball, and it would bounce off of the backboard.  

 They also had a trampoline.  I had never been on one before, but I loved going up and down.  I had to be careful not to hit the ceiling, but I learned tricks while bouncing.  It was a lot of fun.

 During this same time in my life, I was getting picked last to do any sports in school.  It was refreshing to be wanted to play sports at summer camp.  I was the team's "ringer".  Most of the kids were from other schools than mine.  They didn't know me, and I didn't know them.  Having fun was better than having hate.    

Scouts

  I was in Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts.  Our Cub Scout troop met at Eastminster Presbyterian Church in Columbia. We had a champion archer come one day, and we were all amazed by his ability to get bullseyes.  He taught us a little about the bow and arrow.  I tried to shoot one, but all I got was a burn on my arm.  We also participated in the soapbox derby by making cars out of wood that could be fast.  I didn't win.  We learned later that the boy who won had cheated by putting metal in the frame to make the car go faster.  We did have some cool uniforms.

 I moved onto Boy Scouts at St. Martin's in the Fields Episcopal Church in Forest Acres.  It was sort of across the street from my junior high school.  We didn't do much there except to have fun.  One night, we wanted to get a band together.  I told them I could play the harmonica.  I had a harmonica at home, but my idea of playing it was to breathe in and out, while my mouth was on it.  I had no concept of playing notes on it.  We played the song "Flowers on the Wall" which was popular at that time.  I sat in a chair near a wall to "play" my harmonica.  I hyperventilated and passed out.  They revived me and had me breathe into a paper bag.  The other scouts thought it was funny.  I didn't share in the humor, but that was the last time I used a harmonica.

 After that humiliation, I moved to Boy Scouts at First Baptist Church in Columbia.  This troop was hardcore scouting.  We went camping and tried to achieve badges.  I went from Tenderfoot to Second Class in just a couple of weeks.  I learned how to build a fire and to shoot a gun.  The gun was a .22 rifle.  We went out to the lake to camp.  Each scout had to shoot at a tree.  I missed every time.  I learned that guns were not right for me.  Our scout leader wanted every kid to earn as many badges as possible.  We were all on a fast track.  The First Class badge was much harder to get.  One of the challenges was to do a five-mile hike.  I decided that scouting wasn't right for me, despite more cool uniforms.  

 Thankfully, I was starting to get involved in Speech tournaments in 10th grade, so I used that as an excuse to get out of scouting.  It was probably for the best.