Mom, This Post Is For You...

Our Family Piano Looked a Little Like This

When I was probably 8 years old, I started taking piano lessons.  Not because I wanted to though.  I was forced to take them by my mother.

I hated piano lessons.  I thought my piano teacher was mean.  And I hated practicing.  I must have had some talent though because I would literally go to my piano lesson, get my assignments for the week, never practice, then go back to my lesson the next week and be able to pass them off.  I'm sure my piano teacher was pretty frustrated with me.

The highlight of my piano-playing experience was learning how to play "The Funeral March of A Marionette" (the Alfred Hitchcock Theme Song) from memory.  Ok, I admit that I had to practice a little on that one!  =o)

Despite my pleas to quit, my mom would not let me.  There was quite a lot of bargaining and negotiation but both of us held firm.  Eventually, I grew to resent piano because I felt like it was keeping me from my first love--basketball.  It sounds a bit silly now--I'm sure that at 10 years old, I had plenty of time to play basketball and the piano, but that's not how I saw it at the time.  Eventually, my persistence paid off at about age 12 or 13.  I got to stop taking lessons.  (I hate using the "Q" word.)

The "Official" Piano of the D.R.

My mom guaranteed that if I stopped piano, I would regret not being able to play when I was on my mission.  I said I wouldn't and I never did.  Only once was I ever asked to play the piano on my mission.  It wasn't even a real piano.  Think Casio keyboard that no one could hear.  And even if I could have played, no one would have heard it and it wouldn't have mattered.  The congregation in the little branch was that loud (and not really on key).

But I didn't regret not being able to play the piano on my mission and I haven't regretted it a day since.

Until tonight.

Tonight, we had the Young Men practicing to sing "Con Valor Marchemos" (Onward Christian Soldiers) for Sacrament Meeting on Sunday.  The first few go-rounds were a little rough, to say the least.  I was looking at the notes in the hymnal and didn't think that it looked all that difficult so I volunteered to jump on the piano and try to play at least one hand (is that the melody?).

I think I didn't do that bad for not having touched a piano in over 20 years, but I was still a little disappointed that I couldn't sight read it better.  Still I think it helped and by the end of practice, I thought that we sounded pretty good.

Of course, that was probably due to the fact that we drafted someone from the Relief Society in the other ward who happened to be in the building to play a little for us.  And I had to admit...it made a big difference.

Not Exactly the San Juan YM Choir--At Least Not Yet

But for the first time, I actually did regret--just a little--that I couldn't play to help our Priesthood Choir practice tonight.

So Mom, thought it pains me to say this, you were right!