The Black and White Keys

I had some music education my first year in high school. I went over to my best friend's (and later my first crush) house and sat down at her family's baby grand piano. It was lovely. And my best friend at 14 taught me to read music and peck out a melody to sing.

I was never really any good. But just good enough to sing alto in the high school concert choir. I barely auditioned and got into the choir. So I sang with the altos and my best friend sang with the sopranos. More than notes separated us now. She had slept over and I made a "pass" that was rebuffed. So afterwards, I didn't go to her piano anymore. Instead, I ding-dong my father to get us our own.

I don't know how my mother and I did it but we convinced my father to buy a beautiful upright piano that to this day still has a wonderful sound and looks like an attractive piece of furniture. And so, both my mother and I took piano lessons from this suburban lady. She was nice and my guide into mysterious lands and adventures. I studied for almost 2 years. My interests changed to getting into college and without my best friend's encouraging hands guiding my hands over the keys, my interest just waned.

But I still loved to play this one piece, Moonlight Sonata. I even memorized the easy version and played it for my Grandma Fay (she was the jewish one). Now you must understand that Grandma Fay was very frank with her opinions. After I finished playing she said, "Very nice, but could you play something a little happier?" I was floored. I thought I was all grown-up and serious. Now Grandma Fey wants silly and happy! Adults! Who can understand them!"

It's been now over 30 years since I tried to play the piano. But I've been wanting one. Couldn't afford an upright so I got a keyboard. I hope again to play with the help and guidance of a piano teacher. This one is a gift to myself. Totally for me!!!

A Typical Unproductive Day

Don't know what to make of today. I slept most of it away except for a few minor interruptions of neighbors, phone calls and lunch deliveries. This retired life is definitely set your-own-course. Aside from pouring coffee into Kathleen and driving her to and from the metro, my day is pretty much my own. Oh, I call my mother every day and then I call Kathleen around lunchtime (she works so hard that I have to remind her to eat lunch; something you'd never have to remind me about).

I like staying home. I don't watch daytime TV except for an occasional Ellen episode. But I do listen to Top 40 radio. I really kinda tune out the music. I don't know the songs' titles or the artists. It's really nonsense music to me (except for Adele) and that's why I guess I like it so much.

And then I'm on the Internet...for hours. I do email and I write. I shop (too much!). I check the weather. And I surf a lot. I'm especially happy when I find a new kitten video to watch. Cause I've got to get a daily dosage of "cuteness" in; otherwise everything gets dark and cynical. And we can't have that.

But I'm happy with this arrangement because I have time to research, muse, and write every day. I may be "unproductive", but I write every day. Other than answer email, what do you do every day?

I Want to Play Keyboards

I love music. I listen to it almost every waking moment. Well something at least that most of us would consider music. But do I "know it" or "understand it"? Not at all. When I played a little (and I mean a little) piano when I was in high school, I learned to read music well enough to be in the school's choir. That was the extent of my musical education.

Since then, I've bought and played over 700 CDs. Oh, I have my favorites, but I'm also proud of my range in musical tastes---from Opera to Pop or as artists go from Mozart to Buddha Bar.

But I also want to play an instrument. My voice is old, thin and has got more "grit" in it from cigarettes than a rock quarry. So the voice is out. I've decided that I want to get an electronic keyboard because we have no room for a piano, which is my first choice.

I want to play keyboards. Take lessons. Practice when Kathleen's home. And drive her up the walls. (Gee, I hope I won't be that bad, but you know I will be.)

If you think I can take lessons at 50 years of age and learn to play the keyboards, give me a "like" in the comments section. But don't worry. I'll still blog. I don't think I really have got a serious future as a rocker!