not skeleton keys

I love playing piano. Yes, I begged my mother to let me quit lessons when my first teacher migrated to Alaska. In my defense, though, it was only because my second one, the church organist smelled funny (mom insisted I take up a different instrument in the school band). A Continuing Ed class in college was the beginning of my re-education. I bought a fancy shmancy dance music keyboard before graduation, but was forced to pawn it a couple years later when I got laid off from Whole Foods. When I first moved to Denver, my belly dancing friend Sadie gave me her old Yamaha synth. I wrote some quality tunes on that thing.

Putting a piano in my studio apartment isn’t really practical. I do have a nice MIDI controller now, though. Fortunately, when I want to finger bona fide ivories, there’s an upright right up the road at my old man’s place. He bought it for his wife Connie. She’s playing her first concert at 7 p.m. this Saturday, October 23 at Holy Love in Aurora.

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