As per yesterday’s prediction, tonight was indeed a wonderful evening, full of learning, careful attention, sensational munchies, belly laughs and the sympathetic sharing of a believer’s Islamic journey. All of that goodness was in our living room, though, while the Dégas had to wait down in the down-down ‘til nearly midnight for me to make musical havoc on its strings. And I did, strumming my three-and-a-half chords, picking out my two-and-a-half tunes and even improvising some swingy bits in my basic blues. Now that I liked!

But as for the “tenacious discipline” that somebody was blathering about yesterday – its tendency to leak out into other chambers of the spiritual warrior’s life, its ability to cross over from musical dedication to a BodyMovin’, I’m-not-just-a-midlife-string-picker-but-a-studly-workout-demon-too kind of ethos – well, scratch that. 27 straight days on guitar for the Old Dog, but a fat oh-fer-three since I noticed how amazing I was with the weights.

A guy has to work awfully hard to suppress humility, it seems to me. There are so many ways to learn it.