To be fair, I didn’t have much to do with it, and it isn’t technically my piano. But there is a piano in my house, and it makes me happy!
My parents are moving to Washington DC, and the piano simply couldn’t make that trip. They haven’t found a real house yet, and I think the climate change might have killed it. Instead, the piano came to live at my house, and I will piano-sit it until such a time as (presumably) my father retires and they move into a real house back in South Dakota again. Hooray!
I took piano lessons starting at the age of five. I could play “Yankee Doodle” before I even started. My mother must have thought I showed promise. It was misleading. I had no real inclination to be a musician. I was supposed to practice for half an hour every day, but I was lucky if I practiced half an hour every week. By the time I gave up lessons in 10th grade, my crowning achievements were “The Feather Theme” from Forest Gump and the Titanic’s theme song.
In retrospect, like everyone else, I wish I’d been more dedicated because now I’d like to be able to play better than I do. I always enjoyed playing, just not practicing.
So now I can practice all I want (until I drive Dustin nuts, anyway), and we’ll see if it does me any good.