My Poor Neglected Piano
We were down at my parents’ house this past weekend to celebrate Christmas with my family. It was quite nice and almost Christmasy. At one point, I was bored and wandered into the living room and played the piano for a while. My dad has these easy-to-medium level Classical pieces that I can usually sight read and enjoy playing.
When I play the piano, especially Classical (where I’m using that term to loosely refer to music older than a hundred years or so), I tend to float off into my own little world. Nothing is sad there. Even when I flub notes or stall while I analyse the best way to continue, my thoughts don’t wander away. It’s calming.
This is why, when I’m upset, I generally gravitate to the piano. It slows down the crazy thoughts. It cuts off the outside world. It makes me feel peaceful.
I played a few pieces that I know by sound but not by name. One I hadn’t played before, so I went ahead and played it twice in a row. I have this odd problem, though. I’m pretty good at sight reading music for the piano. But the second time through a piece, I generally fuck it up royally. I don’t know what happens. I probably stop paying attention to the notes too early in the learning process. But because of this, I generally don’t bother to learn any music. I just sight read for my own enjoyment.
There are some pieces, however, that I will enjoy a thousand times. My dad’s book of Classical music did in fact have it. Satie isn’t one of the best known piano composers. He’s difficult to find on the internet (especially when you can’t remember his name, except that it’s five letters and starts with an ‘S’, and as a bonus you can’t remember the name of your favorite piano piece until you see it). But here he is and here’s that piece. Well played, it could put you in a trance. When I play it myself, even though I know I don’t do a perfect job, it has the same effect on me.
So after playing that, I wandered away from the piano and found Mike sitting on the far-too-tiny couch in the family room. I sat with him, and he immediately asked, “Who are you mad at?”
How sad is that? My poor innocent piano. I’ve been playing since before I could read. Before I could properly speak. I very often tell people that my first language is music. But what does my piano at home do? It sits there for weeks at a time. It waits patiently for me to be cranky or pissed off so that I require some piano time. Why do I abandon my poor innocent piano?
The damn thing did cost me nearly two grand when I bought it. I was still in college. It was pretty much all of the money I had. At the time, I had the tendency to work a job for a purpose. I worked at Hallmark so I could buy a guitar. I worked at Friendly’s so I could pay to fix my car after an accident involving black ice. I worked in the Web Office so I could buy a piano keyboard. It wasn’t until my internship with that company I used to work for that I started working for working’s sake – for my brain and for my career.
I bought that piano at the Guitar Center that had only recently sprouted up in my home town. They had a room set aside for electronic pianos ranging in quality from the 40-ish key spring boards to full blown 88 weighted keys. I tried every single one of them. I couldn’t bring myself to purchase a spring-loaded keyboard. It just didn’t feel right. Or, for that matter, sound right. So I went for the weighted keys. But I thought I’d get something a little bit portable, so I got one that had a collapsible stand and carrying case. Never mind that the thing weighs over 80 pounds. Portable my ass.
I bought every attachment. Bench, stand, music stand, headphones, and cables galore. The sales guy was so excited he threw in the case for free. Man, that was a lot of money. It may still be one of the most expensive things I’ve ever bought. Actually, I think the only things more expensive would be cars.
And I did play it. I played it almost every day when I lived in Worcester. But then, I was almost always mad at someone then. When you interact with that many people, you’re bound to run into someone who makes you batty almost every day. Plus I was kind of my own spaz. And I was constantly arranging songs for I8 – though I usually did those using a letter keyboard and Note Worthy Composer. I was a speed demon at NWC.
But here I am today, with a piano that sits neglected in the spare room. But it’s always there for me when I need it. And sometimes, I really do need it.
*hugs*
I know they feeling. I polish and played by baby (violin) for the first time this christmas break since my junior year in college, and it felt good and sad at the same time. I need a new bow, need to rehair the other, and need new strings, which will cost lots of money I currently need for the wedding, but it felt good to have her snuggled under my chin again.
Even sadder is my piano at home. I haven’t seriously played piano in five years since I went to college, and she needs a lot of work. I won’t get her until I have a house, but needs a tuning bad, as well as a string replaced (I have a habit of breaking the bass strings when playing upright piano).
At least our instruments always love us back.
How the hell do you have a “habit” of breaking strings? Good grief, man! My parents’ piano was played by all four of us, most of us daily, for at least 12 years straight and we only ever had to replace one string.
Special.
My mom gave me this t-shirt that I wear to the gym a lot. It says “Music is the salve for the soul.”