As a kid, I learned to play the piano. I stayed at it for several years, never becoming good but maybe average at best. The old second-hand upright piano was abandoned when I went away to college, and I didn’t lay hands on a piano until about 20 years later. When a friend of Bill’s moved into a condo, he gave us a console piano with a bench full of sheet music. From time to time I’ll sit down at the piano and slowly some of what I remember will come back. I even have periods when I’ll practice. Over the years, I’ve added a few music books in an effort to find pieces I once played. I even taught Scott the first part of Jingle Bells.
As luck would have it though, the old piano has found new life but not from me. One of Scott’s friends from Booker T. Washington Magnet School is a talented musician. He will sit down with no music before him and launch into his own renditions of jazz standards, flowing from one to another without stopping. The last time, he played Somewhere Over the Rainbow and a version of Autumn Leaves. Yes, I once played these classics but not like Joel does. And yet, I keep at it. Never expecting to be grand or make a living. It’s just a nearly forgotten pleasure.
Christmas Countdown --–– 23 days