Today is National Piano day, because it's the 88th day of the year.  And there are 88  keys on a piano.  Get it? Piano nerd jokes.  Anyway, I figured today is as good as any other day to tell the story of my days of playing the piano.

I started to ask for piano lessons in eighth grade.  I think by my freshman year at Smith Cotton I had worn the parentals down enough.  So they went down to Wilken's and signed me up for a half an hour a week, five dollars for a half an hour.

Wilken's has been around in downtown Sedalia for decades, and I went in every week to wait next to the tiny little room with the tiny little stand up piano and go through the four or five songs I had to practice each week.  It was kind of hard for me, because I have always had problems remembering which is left and which is right.

Meaning, when I'd play for my teacher, she'd try to correct me by saying "right hand wrong" and I would pause.  Eventually she just got a small ruler and tapped on the hand that had the wrong position.

Another small problem was that we didn't have a piano at our house.  My grandmother had one, a baby grand in her living room.  So after school, she would pick me up (when I didn't have clubs or something) and I'd go to her house to practice piano or violin for an hour. She really liked hearing me play, but loved giggling when I got it wrong more.  Funnily enough, the piano had to be left behind in the house when she died, because she had done construction to add a porch to her house, ensuring that the piano was too big to get out the door.

Eventually I got a little stand up piano at home, and I'd practice a bit, but I always felt bad doing it because it was right next to the living room.  Where the TV was.  So I'd always feel bad for interrupting whatever my Mom was watching.  She said she didn't mind, but I still felt bad about it.

When I went off to college, the piano went, too.  I think it was supposed to go to my niece? I'm not entirely sure what happened to it.  I'm also not entirely sure if I can still play. I can read sheet music but I might not be very good at it.

So there you have it, a little Sedalia memory for Piano Day.

Pianoingly yours,

Behka