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From the old piano in my parents' house. I never knew why we had a piano. Nobody in our household of 8 knew how to play.
If I don't write, I'll explode. Oh yeah, I own it, don't steal it, and don't sue me if you disagree with what I say. If you do, bad karma will follow you all the days of your life.
2 comments:
We all learned how to play. Some of us it "took" more than others. But my mom quit tickling the ivories the day Dad brought home a black snake to photograph and it got away, and showed up inside the piano as a mysterious thunking sound in the bass notes.
In the 50's and 60's it seemed like everyone had a piano in the house, sort of made you look cultured, I guess. And our big upright piano was a really great place to hide Easter eggs on rainy Easters.
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