pkin-j

There was I.
Sittin' on the bench
In the clammy heat
Of prepubescent June.

Where had I not been?
Sittin' on the bench
Ticklin the keys
Practicing the tune.

I played piano for twelve years. For twelve years, I played the piano. Because we had one. And if we had one, then I'd have to be the one to play it. Because nobody else did. I don't think I ever questioned whether or not I wanted to play it. I think I'd have preferred playing with my friends. So I took piano lessons. And I tortured myself over going on and on with it. It was torturous. I'd sit at the piano and stare at the keys. And the music books. Why did I have to play those boring things? How much spazzing out on the keyboard could I do before my mom's protest? Thirty minutes a day? Are you kidding me?

My piano teacher doubted that I practiced. I'm not really sure what ever gave him that idea. Occassionally he'd ask if it were something I really wanted to do. Whatever I responded, I believed I wanted to do it. The fact is now that it's fifteen, twenty years ago I'm not sure what the reality was. But there was an association of the devil child's desires and disuse with the perfect child's obligation to use it for the rest of his life.

Some time toward the end, I began to enjoy the piano. Maybe in a way similar to a dirty whore who comes to miss her virginity.

June came around once a year. Two great events sandwiching one treacherous happening. My birthday initiated June with a bang. School let out by around the 21st. There was plenty "Fish Out of Water" to be screamed in the relatively new pool. But there was also the dreadful "Piano Rehearsal" smack in between. I hated that event. That uncomfortable event. That I had to memorize whatever pitiful song Mr. Johnson would let me do. Without fear of me blowing it all.

I hated practicing. I hated memorizing. I wasn't playing the piano because I wanted to create beautiful music. I was playing the piano because we had one. Because someone, maybe some people, somewhere along the path of life before me thought enough of wanting to play the piano that it wound up in my living room with my ass warming the bench.

I also played the sax. I shoulda played the drums.