I played piano from the ages of 8 to 16. Unlike the kids you often see on TV and in movies, I actually wanted to learn it. If my memory is correct, I asked Mom if she would put me in piano lessons.
The things we don't appreciate in childhood. I enjoyed piano, but I never practiced as much as I needed to in order to excel at it. Piano lost out not to sports or TV, but to my #1 hobby - school! By age 16, I'd had it with piano. Super competitive, I was tired of being a merely average piano student.
In the intervening years, I have hardly touched a piano. But every now and then - like when I'm at a concert - I regret having given it up. When I got my first job after undergrad, I even dreamed of buying a second-hand piano and taking lessons again. But I never did, partly because I wasn't settled. How could I buy a piano for an apartment? Where would I be in 5 years? (DC, it turns out.)
Well, like I said in my last blog, I'm almost 30 and I'm still not settled! I still live in an apartment. I still don't know where I'll be living in 5 years. Just this past week, I sat down at a keyboard for the first time in years. I was with some classmates at our friend Everthon's apartment. He is quite musically talented and owns a keyboard (a nice one - not the '80s variety I'm sure you're picturing). At his urging, I sat down at it, but the only notes I've retained are the first bar of Fur Elise. Still - between hearing him and playing a few keys myself, it made me want to "re-tinkle" the ivories. Everthon tells me I can come by his place and practice every week if I want.
I'm going to take him up on that. As it turns out, a lot has changed in the 14 years since I gave up the piano! I've discovered there are "e-keyboards" you can practice on and online exercises to learn notes. I've been practicing the last few days - already my ability to read music is coming back. I can also download and print sheet music, so no more having to buy music books (apparently artists and publishers aren't safe from being ripped off in any capacity). I've already located a bunch of beginner pieces. I'm going to start fresh - I have to remember "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" before I can get back to Mozart.
My ambitions are modest. For now I'd like to be as good as I was when I was about 12. I'd like to be able to play simple arrangements of classical pieces. Who knows? If it goes well, I might just buy myself a second-hand piano without waiting until I'm..... GASP!...... settled.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Miss Catherine
There's an 88-year-old lady who lives in our building. Her name is Miss Catherine.
Miss Catherine - and I'm assuming that is Catherine with a "C" - is as familiar a presence as the reception staff. When we moved in last August, I noticed the same elderly lady always in the lobby. Sometimes she'd be sitting on one of the couches or chairs. Other times she'd just stand by the reception desk and talk to whoever was working. I'd often wondered why she spends so much time in the lobby talking to building staff.
I found out one day last fall when I was getting coffee in the club room. Donovon, my favorite reception person, was also there and he told me the building was hosting a party for Miss Catherine to help her celebrate her 88th birthday. He said she had no one to help her celebrate. She'd never married, never had children and didn't even have any family in the area. Her birthday party was lovely - it was a catered affair and there was even a Wii for entertainment. Miss Catherine might not have tried the Wii, but she seemed to enjoy all the attention. We sang "happy birthday" to her and there was a beautiful cake. Though I know her name now, I still haven't talked to Miss Catherine. Maybe I should. Whenever I pass her in the lobby, I smile and say "Hi Miss Catherine", and she smiles and says "hi" back. But I'd love to talk to her and hear her story. It was only yesterday in the club room that I heard enough of her conversation to realize she's from the south.
Why am I writing about Miss Catherine months after her birthday party? Lately, I find myself thinking about her more often. Maybe it's an "about to turn 30 thing". Next month I will hit that major milestone. And I find myself doing what many people do at a milestone age - comparing where I am in my life to where I thought I'd be. Thirty used to sound so old. I can remember my parents being in their early 30s. How did I become this age?
And I confess, as someone who has always said she doesn't want children, part of me fears ending up like Miss Catherine. In 50 years, will I be the lady in the apartment who wiles away the hours sitting in the lobby and talking to whoever is around? I left home and don't intend to return to NL (though clearly much can change in 50 years!). Will I be that woman who doesn't have any family to turn to? Nobody to depend on? It seems infinitely sad to me; I wonder if Miss Catherine is happy with her life. She doesn't seem unhappy - but a smile can hide a lot. All the more reason to get to know her.
Miss Catherine - and I'm assuming that is Catherine with a "C" - is as familiar a presence as the reception staff. When we moved in last August, I noticed the same elderly lady always in the lobby. Sometimes she'd be sitting on one of the couches or chairs. Other times she'd just stand by the reception desk and talk to whoever was working. I'd often wondered why she spends so much time in the lobby talking to building staff.
I found out one day last fall when I was getting coffee in the club room. Donovon, my favorite reception person, was also there and he told me the building was hosting a party for Miss Catherine to help her celebrate her 88th birthday. He said she had no one to help her celebrate. She'd never married, never had children and didn't even have any family in the area. Her birthday party was lovely - it was a catered affair and there was even a Wii for entertainment. Miss Catherine might not have tried the Wii, but she seemed to enjoy all the attention. We sang "happy birthday" to her and there was a beautiful cake. Though I know her name now, I still haven't talked to Miss Catherine. Maybe I should. Whenever I pass her in the lobby, I smile and say "Hi Miss Catherine", and she smiles and says "hi" back. But I'd love to talk to her and hear her story. It was only yesterday in the club room that I heard enough of her conversation to realize she's from the south.
Why am I writing about Miss Catherine months after her birthday party? Lately, I find myself thinking about her more often. Maybe it's an "about to turn 30 thing". Next month I will hit that major milestone. And I find myself doing what many people do at a milestone age - comparing where I am in my life to where I thought I'd be. Thirty used to sound so old. I can remember my parents being in their early 30s. How did I become this age?
And I confess, as someone who has always said she doesn't want children, part of me fears ending up like Miss Catherine. In 50 years, will I be the lady in the apartment who wiles away the hours sitting in the lobby and talking to whoever is around? I left home and don't intend to return to NL (though clearly much can change in 50 years!). Will I be that woman who doesn't have any family to turn to? Nobody to depend on? It seems infinitely sad to me; I wonder if Miss Catherine is happy with her life. She doesn't seem unhappy - but a smile can hide a lot. All the more reason to get to know her.
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