Speaking Spanish to an Italian...

I had one of those experiences this week conversing with an engineer about emergency generators, you know, the discussion about something you just know a little bit about with someone who knows every detail about the subject. You sort of understand, but you don't really, so you go for the big picture, but the engineer doesn't GET the big picture, as the details are what are important to them. So we end up talking at cross purposes sometimes, and simple conversations can turn difficult.

In the late spring I joined a group of musicians to jam with various stringed instruments. As I am a virtuoso with all of three chords, I usually disappear into the background pretty easily and just try to strum along, knowing that my hopeless technical deficiencies will be easily covered by the group and my somewhat healthy sense of rhythm. The only problem was that this group was much more of the folk music variety, and people were showing up with dobroes and lap steel guitars and zithers and one two-stringed thing that I had never seen nor heard before. The only other guitar in the room was a friendly dude who could finger and flat pick like nobody's business, and he talked to me about tuning down and other things I just don't really know. We weren't even through half a song when I packed it in. So some days you hear a language which sounds somewhat familiar but you just don't really understand what's being said.

I know this has nothing to do with this, but this was really freaky a coupla nights ago--while our boy Alex was getting suspended by the NHL for an inopportune knee on knee hit, two Panther teammates had an accidental altercation...