It's no secret (if you know me) that I'm passionate about music. There are only a few things that I am truly "passionate" about and music is one of them. I can't play any instruments worth a damn but that's okay. The first instrument I picked up was a ukulele. I got it as a gift when I was like three? Anyway, I immediately loved it and played it left handed. I didn't know that accepted way and most play guitar-type instruments right handed. I loved that ukulele. Then, a short time after having it, someone (I can't recall who) told me I was playing it wrong. So they turned it around and told me that was the correct way to play it and to play it like that going forward. Well, in a short time it wasn't fun anymore and I moved on to something else. I wonder what would have happened if I had the strength of character and knowledge of myself at that young age to just keep on playing it the way that was comfortable and made sense. Well, we can't live in the past.
That story reminds me of a story I heard from a motivational speaker. A very young girl is in an art class with the rest of the students in the class. Maybe first grade (I don't recall exactly). Anyway, she paints a nice picture of a sky and grass and a tree and a house. It's essentially a landscape. She calls the teacher over to show her the wonderful work she did. The teacher praises her and then says, "There's just one thing missing," and proceeds to paint a bird flying in the sky, just a simple v-shaped bird in flight. The little girl started balling her eyes out. Why? Well, you can figure out the answer to that one...
The next instrument I attempted (against my will) was the piano. I was 6 years old when the nightmare started. My sister was made to play along also. She was a year older. Our first teacher was like Dracula, or at least he was to me as a 6 year old. He lived in a dark and dingy old mansion near downtown. He was tall, pale, walked quite erect and didn't smile. I hated it there as did my sister. I'm not sure how long it was before we switched to another teacher who worked out of the town's only music store/head shop. This was 1970.
Why were we taking piano lessons? My parents bought a Yamaha upright and well, they didn't buy it to collect dust. Why didn't THEY play it? I never learned to play the piano over several years of lessons. I just played notes. I did enjoy playing some songs but there was no heart or passion in those songs, just notes. I never understood what to do with those damn pedals either. I used to pretend (while I was forced to practice) that it was some kind of crazy car and the three pedals were, of course, a clutch, gas pedal and brake. I traveled to places that had no pianos...
Now I enjoy playing the piano because I play because I want to. I can read music so can play just about anything. You'd likely have trouble naming any of the songs I play, however. I still suck, but I take pleasure in my lack of talent. My favorite song of late is "November Rain" by Gun's & Roses. I think it sounds great when I play it. It would probably sound better if I used those pedals but these days I just ignore them. That's right...I'm that kind of rebel!
I don't currently own a piano but I am in the market when the right deal comes along. It doesn't have to be great but it does need to be decent. My last piano was a 1936 Stark upright. Stark made mostly player pianos so this was a rare gem. Most of the ivory was off the keys but otherwise it was fine. I had it tuned and the tuning dude said it was a pretty decent piano. He probably tells that to eveyone with an ugly piano. I had that piano in the basement den in my condo in Milford. When Barbara and I moved in together, I didn't want to pay to move it so I gave it to the first person that would take it away. I paid nothing for it also (just the cost to move it) so...share it forward...
I'll get into the music I like in my next post...(oh, and my short experience with a guitar)...peace...
