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Pianos - A Thing Of The Past?

An interesting article in the October 2017 edition of the AARP Bulletin. Many of us remember a piano in the home as a prized possession. We had a dark wood upright that my Mom and sister would play. I think I was too lazy to learn how. A friend of mine had a very nice spinet style that wound up being dismantled so she wouldn't have to move it to her new place. The wood was scrapped and the metal innards went into the Habitat For Humanity recycling dumpster. What are your good piano memories?

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by Anonymousreply 3September 15, 2021 7:46 AM

I can play chopsticks like nobody's business OP!

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by Anonymousreply 1September 15, 2021 2:49 AM

Who needs a piano when you can show your tits or dick on only fans and have zero talent?

by Anonymousreply 2September 15, 2021 2:50 AM

My much older sisters were forced to take piano lessons which the hated. The teacher, Miss Doing would arrive in her lavender Lincoln continental, and swoop into our house (she was also a ballroom dancer). Her perfectly coiffed lavender hair was awesome.

The girls hated taking lessons. But a four year old me would hide behind the sofa. I would listen and watch. The moment the room cleared I excitedly rushed to the piano to try everything I had surreptitiously learned. I not only learned to read music this was it also taught me to read. My dad caught me playing and he was thrilled. I went on to major in piano and conducting.

I can still picture Miss Doing make her fab entry. She taught me for many years. And each year there was a new Lincoln Continental with custom lavender paint and interior. The little gay boy’s musical fairy godmother.

As for a family piano, it brought a new bond between my dad and I. He would proudly take just me to visit his aunts so I could play for them. And an interesting connection occurred while playing for Aunt Charlotte. Since I was used to playing while adults talked I remember their discussion was how much I was like her son Harold. I didn’t understand the implication of my Aunt comparing me to Harold totally but the inference was I was special like him. And my six year old self knew it meant more than just our piano skills.

I learned much later that cousin Harold was gay. He was highly decorated fighter pilot in the WWII Pacific. My brother had been to his home in SF and told me all about my lovely cousin and his partner. I was invited to visit however a week prior to my flight, the proudly out Harold died in an accident. I still mourn my wonderful cousin I only knew from afar.

And the connection to him was because my dad loved to show off his little pianist who learned the family piano from behind the sofa. I still own all of Harold’s music my Aunt gave me from inside the bench of her family piano.

And I wish I could play duets with dad. Damn, making me cry.

by Anonymousreply 3September 15, 2021 7:46 AM
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