I Can’t Sing
I can’t code. I can’t design. I can’t dance. I can’t get in shape. I can’t draw. I can’t give speeches. I can’t write. I can’t invent.
When I was 15 I had a friend named Patrick. We met in driver’s ed.
If you looked at him, you’d probably expect to find him in a moshpit, or playing insanely loud punk music. You’d be right. But the guy had the voice of an angel and sang in his high school choir.
One night, Collin and I pick him up from choir practice.
Collin was our 16 year old friend who we often made drive us around. Poor Collin :)
As we were driving to who knows where (some cafe to play chess and drink coffee or to Taco Bell) a song came on the radio that I liked. And I sang it a little.
That weird looking, punk rock, 15 year old kid gave me some advice that has helped shape every single thing I’ve accomplished since.
He warned me that, as I sang, I was trying to imitate...