Wondrous Piano Player

 

I play the piano.

When I was growing up we had a dog who would howl. If you would howl he would howl. We would ask him to sing and then we would howl and then he would howl. I play the piano like that dog would sing.

I can read music. Sorta, kinda, maybe.

If I hear the music first it really helps. In fact it is probably essential.

Today before I started my normal "work" I played a new song. I opened up a book and started a new piece. It wasn't going very well, so I decided to listen to someone play the piece who knew what they were doing.

I started YouTube and found a man who would teach us (us being me) how to play the piece. Usually these YouTube teachers first play the piece first all the way through. This person introduced the piece telling us (use being me) who it was attributed to, but maybe that person didn't really write it, but maybe he did... and then the YouTube teacher told us (us being me) that he had to learn it for a recital when he was ten. 

He showed a picture of himself when he was ten. 

Rub it in buster.

Life isn't fair.

Well anyway, he played the piece. As you might expect he was really good, and I began to understand how it was supposed to sound.

From the top of the stairs Pam yells down something like, "What are you doing down there?" Her voice was full of admiration, mixed with hope and excitement, with a tinge of doubt.

She obviously thought I had become possessed by some visiting angel who had taken control of my feeble, old hands and was playing a nice piece.

I yelled back that it was YouTube.

"Oh", says she. No admiration. No hope, No excitement.

"I wondered."