Nine months ago I finally got up the courage to buy a grand piano for my living room. I had written songs when I was younger and was getting the urge to start writing music again. I was pretty sure I was at the beginning of a mid-life crisis. It was one of the perks of living alone and owning my own house – I could buy and do whatever I wanted. Whenever I wanted. I started off slowly by teaching my brain and my hands how to play the basic scales on the piano before I brought out the easiest sheet music I could find. I was a little nervous I wouldn’t remember how to play or how to read the music. But once I got over my initial nerves, I thought I wasn’t quite as bad as I thought.
I soon started finding sheet music that was more difficult and was excited to find the local community college had continuing education classes for piano performance. I knew I would not be taken seriously as a piano player, but there was a stage performance at the end of the semester. I practiced until my fingers got sore, but it wasn’t until the night before the performance when I realized there was a problem. I played my song one last time to make sure I knew it by heart. When I finished, I took a deep breath and that’s when I froze. Somebody was clapping for me.
Standing Room Only 