Musings

Just for the fun of it I went to a piano recital today. I loved every single piece. I loved the little girl who played "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." She forgot to count out the correct beats to the measure because she was a little nervous. I loved the boy who played a VERY hard piece and didn't look at his hands, not even once. He rocked while he played, and smiled at his favorite part. I also loved the girl who played a robust piece that involved LOTS of pounding. Her dad turned around and told me they were glad she could start on a new song. I laughed. The whole thing got me to thinking about my own piano experience. I pretty much hated practicing, and went through more that a half dozen teachers before I stopped having lessons. 'Finger Power.' The thought of it makes me get chills down my spine. I have regretted my decision to stop taking lessons many times during my life. It isn't that I couldn't play, I just didn't want to practice. Oh well, one of the younger pianists played I song I learned when I was ten. I think I will go and play it later. I will attempt to play it with the same emotion she did.

Since I was waxing reminiscent, I decided to drive to my parents old home after the recital. While I was driving, I pondered on all the changes in the old neighborhood over the years. There used to be a little corner store where we could walk down and get some penny candy. It really did cost a penny. Sometimes we would stop there and get some candy to sneak into the Saturday matinee. Nothing better than a taffy to chew on while watching some Disney film. There is a body shop there now. When I was little, there was only Dennis St just off the highway. Everything else was fields. As kids we would go out in the field and imagine we were settling the frontier, or look for insects, start fires...or numberless other kinds of trouble. I would lay out in the backyard and stare at the sky at night. There weren't as many houses then, so the stars were so bright. I think that was one of the first times that I realized how small I am in the whole scheme of things. Now there are subdivisions upon subdivisions there. When I drove by the old home I remembered how my sisters and I got to sleep downstairs. We all slept in the same bed and we would lay in bed and tickle each other's backs until one of us went to sleep. I still don't know if its better to be in the middle and get tickled all the time, or on the end and only have to do it every other time. We had free range of the basement, except for the "OTHER SIDE." We were not allowed to go over there unless we were helping with laundry. We did though, enough said. (There are the ice cream and cake mix incidents which won't be mentioned here.)I really loved that house.
As I drove home, I saw a sign that said I could get a one dollar ice cream cone at the Downtown Bread Co. That store used to be a store called Big E, as a kid I thought it was named for my grandpa---my dad nicknamed him Big E because his name was Ellis. Anyway, I used to love to go there and buy a "treat." We didnt't have a lot of money growing up, but sometimes we got to go to the store and buy inexpensive things. There were drugstores all around that block, and I remember getting to go there with my grandpa and he would buy me a sandwich on bakery bread. Grilled cheese or peanut butter. It came with chips and a soda. The soda came in a glass. Really...those were good times.
I love my life.