My daughter plays the saxophone every day for more than five hours. Marching band is a big deal around here, and it’s her first year in the show, so she’s working hard to earn her spot. The problem is that this year’s music selection clocks in at 168 beats a minute, and she has to play triplets through most of it. If you’re a musician, you know that’s cookin’. If you’re not a musician, google “metronome”, move the slider to 168 beats a minute, and then imagine playing three notes for every beat on a saxophone.
If you want a spot in the show, you must record yourself perfectly playing this mess. The section leader gives you a Galdiator-style thumbs up or thumbs down, and if you don’t make it, well, perhaps you can still be in the show helping haul equipment.
It’s a rough life, but we love it. The high expectations and discipline give the kids a sense of accomplishment. But she’s still not fast enough. She can get there before judgment day, but her lips are swollen, and she’s on the brink of fainting. Her problem is that she keeps setting the metronome to 168 bpm when she needs to set it to 60 and play slowly. By slowing down, she can master the pattern, engrain the finger movements, and nail the beats. Then, she can speed up to 70 bpm once she’s comfortable there.
I think you know where this is going. I don’t have issues with reading quickly, I have issues with retention. If you’re convinced you must read 100 books this year, you may feel like my daughter, chasing a number regardless of quality. I teach the art of reading slowly, not because it’s a pretentious way of sounding intellectual, but because my brain isn’t advanced enough to read at high speeds. I have to slow down if I’m going to catch the deeper meaning, context, and themes. I read slowly because, at the 60 bpm rate, the words finally start making sense to me. At 168 bpm, I’m just trying to keep up.
Until tomorrow, read slowly – take notes – apply the ideas.
-Eddy
Published by