Did you ever do something in your life that several years down the line you wished you could have one more crack at? Or, at least the chance to do something over again? Just for personal satisfaction?

A very good friend once told me that she lived her life with as little or no regret as possible. I found that very profound and yet as I reflect on my 28 years of living I find that I have little or nothing to really regret either.

But something happened to me shortly after I moved down here to Texas that bothered me to the point where up until recently I was yearning for that ‘one more chance.’

And it’s so stupid really, just a pride thing. Because it was the one time in my life where I tried out for something and didn’t get it. And for an 18-year-old kid, it was a slight deterrent to my pride, one that would help motivate me in my future endeavors and work ethic. So really I’m lucky it even happened.

So here it is. April 1998…I tried out to play bass guitar for Ned & Company and I didn’t make it.

Yeah, that bruised the ego a little; I had been playing since I was 12 and I could rattle off just about any classic rock and current Top 40 hit off the top of my head. I never took a lesson and played by ear. And I even picked two of the most complicated of Beatles’ bass line songs (“Dear Prudence” and “I’ve Got a Feeling”) to play.

Yet, the powers that be picked a well known friend of most of the people already in the choir crowd, who I happened to hear pluck his way through Marcy Playground’s “Sex and Candy.”

I don’t like to make excuses for myself, but almost right away I did. I blamed it on the fact that I had just moved here and was still relatively unknown. Then the doubt set in: maybe I really just wasn’t good enough.

Five seconds later, the egotist in me came back. No way.

Later on, I did hear from one of the ‘judges,’ of the tryouts who told me that the determining factor was that I was already slated to be Yearbook editor and they felt I wouldn’t have enough time to commit to the group.

To which I still feel, to this day, if they would have straight up asked me to choose between being Yearbook editor, or playing my bass guitar for a grade, I would’ve hands down picked Ned & Company.

I shudder to think of what tangent that eventuality would have led me to. No Yearbook would’ve meant no Mrs. Cowles, my mentor, who if I learned anything from was the mantra of “there’s always room for improvement.”

So what was my point again? Oh yeah. The second chance.

A few weeks ago I received text messages from two of my youth group students, Jessica and Kolby. Both of whom asked me if I’d play their accompaniment music while they audition for N-D-N Singers.

And guess what? They both wanted me to play Beatles songs.