Bruce and I first met at the piano—want to hear about that?
On Friday, March 2, 1984 I was suffering through some kind of teenage trauma and decided I just did not want to go to school that day. I couldn't just go sluff at home because Vovis would be there; and, besides, I had a big test in my 3rd period AP American History class. So, instead, I spent the day feeling sorry for myself in the Seminary building (I did go take my test, though). Well, my Seminary teacher was concerned that I was sitting around all day instead of going to my classes (very uncharacteristic of me), so he asked me to stay after school and talk with him. When the school day ended and I was waiting for my teacher I thought I'd play the piano a little (no surprise), but this tall guy came in and beat me to it; he sat down at the piano first. So I went and sat by him (also very uncharacteristic of me). I guess we said hi, and he asked me if I played. I said, "A little." So he played some stuff; he said he liked chords and chord progressions (or something like that). I told him I knew a cool song that was nothing but big chords and I played a simple Chopin Prelude for him (Op. 28 No. 20—which really is simply a cool progression of chords). And then he had to go catch his bus. As he left the room the teacher called out, "Bye, Bruce!" Now I knew his name. I kind of looked out for Bruce in the halls at school after that, but our paths didn't cross. Really, I don't know what I would have done if our paths had crossed; he wouldn't have known me and I'd have been too shy to talk to him.
Fast forward to August, 1984. I was getting registered for my senior year in high school. One of the classes I'd signed up for was not going to work out, and my counselor was desperately trying to find anything that would work in my schedule that I might be remotely interested in. Finally she asked if I played an instrument; I said piano, and she suggested orchestra. I was a little skeptical; I'd never really considered it before since I didn't play violin (or any stringed instrument). But she talked me into it, "They'd be happy to have a good pianist!"
On the first day of school that year Bruce was there, in the orchestra class, in the violin section. I was 99-percent sure I recognized him and when the teacher took roll I knew he was the same Bruce I'd met briefly last March. Through a strange turn of events both band and orchestra had been scheduled for the same time. It must have been fate; Karma; destiny! While the school was working out the scheduling, we orchestra kids spent some time getting to know each other a little. Now Bruce and I really met each other (more than a ten-word conversation).
On Friday, March 2, 1984 I was suffering through some kind of teenage trauma and decided I just did not want to go to school that day. I couldn't just go sluff at home because Vovis would be there; and, besides, I had a big test in my 3rd period AP American History class. So, instead, I spent the day feeling sorry for myself in the Seminary building (I did go take my test, though). Well, my Seminary teacher was concerned that I was sitting around all day instead of going to my classes (very uncharacteristic of me), so he asked me to stay after school and talk with him. When the school day ended and I was waiting for my teacher I thought I'd play the piano a little (no surprise), but this tall guy came in and beat me to it; he sat down at the piano first. So I went and sat by him (also very uncharacteristic of me). I guess we said hi, and he asked me if I played. I said, "A little." So he played some stuff; he said he liked chords and chord progressions (or something like that). I told him I knew a cool song that was nothing but big chords and I played a simple Chopin Prelude for him (Op. 28 No. 20—which really is simply a cool progression of chords). And then he had to go catch his bus. As he left the room the teacher called out, "Bye, Bruce!" Now I knew his name. I kind of looked out for Bruce in the halls at school after that, but our paths didn't cross. Really, I don't know what I would have done if our paths had crossed; he wouldn't have known me and I'd have been too shy to talk to him.
Fast forward to August, 1984. I was getting registered for my senior year in high school. One of the classes I'd signed up for was not going to work out, and my counselor was desperately trying to find anything that would work in my schedule that I might be remotely interested in. Finally she asked if I played an instrument; I said piano, and she suggested orchestra. I was a little skeptical; I'd never really considered it before since I didn't play violin (or any stringed instrument). But she talked me into it, "They'd be happy to have a good pianist!"
On the first day of school that year Bruce was there, in the orchestra class, in the violin section. I was 99-percent sure I recognized him and when the teacher took roll I knew he was the same Bruce I'd met briefly last March. Through a strange turn of events both band and orchestra had been scheduled for the same time. It must have been fate; Karma; destiny! While the school was working out the scheduling, we orchestra kids spent some time getting to know each other a little. Now Bruce and I really met each other (more than a ten-word conversation).
Throughout the year I would often go into the band room to find Bruce sitting at the grand piano. Sometimes I wondered if he was waiting to talk to me, or if he just wanted to play the piano; either way, I got to talk to him a little. I had work-release for the second half of each school day, so I went to classes until lunch time and then I was free to go home. I just skipped lunch and then stayed in the band room practicing the piano for the rest of the school day. When Bruce found that out (by the second half of the school year), he started coming back to talk with me after he ate lunch. Sometimes we sat at the grand piano and talked, sometimes on the floor, sometimes under the piano; we just talked and talked and became better and better friends. Sometimes he skipped his next class as we chatted; occasionally I'd go his seminary class (his next class period) with him. I was starting to realize that he really did like me and not just the piano. :-)
In the early spring our class went to play in the State Orchestra Festival (some kind of competition between schools). We girls got dressed in our formal, black dresses; the boys in black slacks, white shirts and ties; and we waited in the band room until everyone was ready go. I'd made my own dress; it was in the required black: a long, full skirt with a chiffon overlay and a deep ruffle. The fitted bodice had chiffon sleeves, off the shoulders. (I had a gorgeous neck and shoulders and I knew it, and—contrary to all the lessons in modesty I'd ever had—I wasn't afraid to show them off. Chalk that up to dance lessons.) When Bruce saw me in my dress, he just said, "Wow!" I could tell it was a sincere, spontaneous, and heartfelt "Wow". That was the best compliment I've ever gotten! (Bruce has since told me that I looked like I was going to a party while everyone else looked like they were dressed for a funeral.)
In the early spring our class went to play in the State Orchestra Festival (some kind of competition between schools). We girls got dressed in our formal, black dresses; the boys in black slacks, white shirts and ties; and we waited in the band room until everyone was ready go. I'd made my own dress; it was in the required black: a long, full skirt with a chiffon overlay and a deep ruffle. The fitted bodice had chiffon sleeves, off the shoulders. (I had a gorgeous neck and shoulders and I knew it, and—contrary to all the lessons in modesty I'd ever had—I wasn't afraid to show them off. Chalk that up to dance lessons.) When Bruce saw me in my dress, he just said, "Wow!" I could tell it was a sincere, spontaneous, and heartfelt "Wow". That was the best compliment I've ever gotten! (Bruce has since told me that I looked like I was going to a party while everyone else looked like they were dressed for a funeral.)
The Festival was OK. One of the girls in our class had to go up to the University of Utah right after we performed and since Bruce had brought a car she asked him to drive her up there. I have to admit I was a little jealous—but not for long! Bruce's friend, Allen, asked if he could go with for the ride but Bruce said, no, he'd rather go by himself. Then he turned to me and asked if I'd like to go with them. OK. I was a tiny bit embarrassed and felt kind of bad for Allen, but I was very glad he wanted me to go (as opposed to spending time alone with another girl).As the year rolled on I was wishing Bruce would ask me on a date some time before school ended. During one of our lunch conversations he told me he couldn't decide who to ask to Senior Ball; I had a good suggestion for him, but didn't have the nerve to say it. He finally did ask me to Junior Prom a couple months later—that was a fun date! But that's a story for another time.
2 comments:
That is such a fun story! I love hearing how people met.
I was wondering if you were going to tell this piano story. :) I love it! Very nice seeing it in print.
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