A Kind of Magic

Still blogging with my three co-bloggers!  Each week, one of us chooses a topic and we all post a blog entry on that topic, usually on Thursdays.  (Usually we are on time.  Usually.  Ok, mostly.  Sometimes?  Don’t judge me.)

Here are the links to the other fabulous blogs:

Merryland Girl           

Froggie 

Moma Rock

            This week, I chose the topic, and I asked everyone to write about either a physical or personality trait you find attractive in other people. 

            I came to this subject in a bit of a round about way.  Lately, I have been on a major Queen kick (the band, not the woman).  I’ve been listening to their music and watching documentaries and videos.  In my indulgence, I stumbled onto the video of a live show put on by the band’s drummer, Roger Taylor, several years ago, in his barn.  He’d put together his own band, made up of men many decades younger than he, and performed a mix of Queen songs and his solo work.  He broadcast it across the world (I cannot recall what year, but Google “Roger Taylor cyberbarn” and you will find it easily – I’ve included the link here to save you some time).

            I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for ol’ Roger, even in this video, where he’s nearing 50 and little resembles the almost pretty young man he was back in the day.  I like his voice – it reminds me of Rod Stewart – and I really like his percussion work.  And, so, I watched.  Roger alternated between playing the drums and singing and just singing at the front of the stage.  Towards the end of the 45-minute set, Roger was at the microphone, leaving the drumming to his young backup partner.  And then, quite quickly, he did this thing where he counted up on his fingers and moved his hand, signaling the band to make the switch to the next verse. 

            I was really impressed with that moment, and it didn’t take long for me to realize why.  What I saw there was a combination of the most attractive traits I find in other people.  In moving his hand that way, Roger showed that he was both confident and competent.  He owned that stage; he commanded that band.  And he did so with the fluidity and confidence borne of an uber successful career that has now spanned four decades.  I doubt he even thought about the move when he made it, so second nature did it seem. 

            In just a simple, literal, flick of his wrist, Roger Taylor showed that he knows exactly what he is doing, and that he knows that he knows.  In that flick of his wrist, he showed all of us, too.

            That competence and that confidence are extremely attractive to me.  As Fitzgerald penned in The Great Gatsby, “Almost any exhibition of complete self sufficiency draws a stunned tribute from me.”  Indeed, here is something so appealing about someone who knows what he is doing, who does it well, and who has no doubts as he attacks the task at hand.  Confidence and competence seem hard to come by; I don’t know too many people who exhibit these qualities on a regular basis.  But I do find that they tend to go together.  If someone is competent and he knows he is competent, he will feel confident.  That confidence will, indeed, show in the way he carries himself:  the way he speaks, the way he walks, even the way he gestures.  A flick of the wrist means much more coming from someone who is truly, truly good at what he does. 

            There are few times that I feel either competent or confident – and even fewer where I feel both.  The feeling arises slightly more often now that I am older and have “practiced” certain skills for a longer time.  For example, I would never call myself a great attorney, but I’ve come to see that at least as to certain legal skills – legal research and writing, for one – I am a competent attorney.  For that reason, I am confident when I do a research project or author a legal brief or memo.  But that feeling was a long time coming, more than a decade and a half.  And it doesn’t carry over to all legal skills, either.  Am I competent attorney?  Sure.  But you’re better off asking me to write a brief than to try an entire case alone.  Could I do it?  Perhaps. But I would not appear confident – because I question my own competence in that less-than-comfortable setting.

            Just this week, my kind friend Alex introduced me to someone via email.  In doing so, she described me as a skilled writer and competent attorney (among other complimentary language).  I wanted to tell the recipient, “Hey, Alex is exaggerating!”  More often than not, I question my own competency in most areas, and I do not feel that I exude confidence.  Hell, I’ve been a parent for two decades, and I still say I have no idea what I am doing.  I fake it, of course; can’t let the children see you sweat.  But inside, I feel the sinking doubt in my stomach while the second-guessing commences in my head. 

            I wonder whether I will ever achieve the competence and confidence of dear ol’ Roger, whether I will be able to stand before a huge audience of sorts and merely move my hand and know that I am in control, that the call I am making is the correct call, that I have got this.  I’d like to think so.  But, in the meantime, I’ll leave it to the masters:  the Roger Taylors and the Jon Bon Jovis and the other skilled professionals who have worked hard to hone their craft, to raise it to a true art form.  Gives me something to focus on besides their pretty faces.