The Piano and Me, part 2

By the time I graduated from high school I was an excellent pianist. I still had my job at the dance studio—I played for LeAnn about three hours a night, four nights a week. I was still taking piano lessons and I practiced formally about three hours a day; I also played with the school orchestra and I played just for enjoyment as well. I played the piano a lot! It was rare that I would see a piano and not stop to play it. When friends came over to my house they often asked me to play for them; they knew my repertoire—which was extensive (I could memorize a piece easily and quickly back then)—and they would frequently request songs. I was glad to play for them, because I loved playing the piano.

Well, the summer after I graduated from high school my family went to Arizona to visit my two brothers, Wendell and Mark, who live near Phoenix. Neither of them owned a piano and I was suffering from major withdrawal. One day we went to the mall with Wendell and Amy, his wife. As we entered the main drag of the mall, Hallelujah! The first thing I saw was a piano store! So I told Amy I wanted to play the piano, and she said to go ask the salesman; I did. He said it was all right as long as I didn’t stay too long. So I sat at one of the grand pianos, and tried to decide what I should play. There were so many fun pieces! Finally I wondered out loud, “What should I play?” The man said, “Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor.” That was a piece I’d been considering, having spent much of the last year learning it; so I played it. I was pretty oblivious to my surroundings once I started playing, and was surprised when I finished to be applauded by a large crowd of people standing behind me. Then my mom started telling me to play one piece after another, which I was glad to do. I probably spent an hour or so there, entertaining the shoppers (yes, and myself) before we went on with our own shopping. Amy told me later, “You should have seen that guy’s (the salesman’s) jaw drop!”

But here’s what strikes me as funny: I took that salesman completely at face value. It didn’t occur to me that kids who knew no music but “Chopsticks” probably came and asked him if they could play one of the pianos—probably daily. So it didn’t occur to me that he probably didn’t really want me to come and play; he was probably letting me play because he had to be nice. I was used to friends requesting songs from me (as I said before)—and Toccata and Fugue was a very popular request—so it didn’t occur to me that the man was probably being sarcastic when he told me to play a very difficult piece. I just took him at face value, and that’s what I played. About the time my concert ended, someone in the “audience” suggested that I should get a job at the mall demonstrating the pianos daily. I said thanks, and went on my merry, innocent way. I only heard later from Amy and my mom that the salesman was kind of crabby about the whole thing; maybe I had embarrassed him (which is too bad because that certainly wasn’t my intent). I was just playing the piano for my own enjoyment, unaware of the fact that in asking me to play such a difficult piece this salesman was making a kind of snotty request, probably hoping I'd go away quickly. But I can get a little chuckle out of the whole thing because I was naïve and oblivious to any sarcasm. And I did enjoy playing that piano!

Well, I don’t play the piano nearly so much any more. Being married with eight children, and having a house to take care of takes precedence over constantly sitting at the piano. And that's OK with me; it should be that way. People who hear me play now think I’m very good—and I am. But they should have heard me when I was teenager! It used to make me a little sad to think how good I was and compare that to now. Sometimes I do get frustrated playing because my fingers aren’t as nimble as they were (OK, sometimes they feel like big, fat sausages—but a little practice works that out). It can be a little frustrating, practicing and having ten or twenty other little fingers get in the way of mine—although that doesn't happen as much as it used to. I just don't really practice much any more—beyond playing for church.

But you know, the piano isn’t my great love any more. I still love music and I don’t want to lose my skill completely; but I don't really think I will. Every now and then I'll sit and play for fun; try to learn something new. But now I have other loves that surpass the piano; and that’s a good thing. Anyway, I still have my fun music stories to think of. And it was fun!