Of icky piano lessons and regrets as an adult

Un-journal prompt #9

Did you take music, dance, or other lessons as a child?

             Every Monday night at 7 p.m., my brother and I trudged over to Mrs. Smith’s house for piano lessons. I hated it. Hated it.

                Did I mention that I hated it?

                My brother eventually started karate lessons and he got to get out of piano because one of the martial arts classes was held the same night. No fair!!

                I never practiced, so of course, Monday night was a trial.

                How much did I dislike it? Well, my mother was the back-up pianist at church when the music minister wasn’t there. When my mom had a conflict, guess who was tapped to play for Sunday services? I think the choir dreaded those Sundays when I was on the piano as much as I disliked being there. I didn’t even want the money! (Yes, the pianist got paid, no matter how unwilling she may have been about actually performing the task.)

                I don’t know why I didn’t like it, although taking piano lessons not being my idea may have had something to do with it.

 I played clarinet from fifth grade through my junior year in college and loved every moment of it. I remember being so afraid that I wouldn’t make the senior high band. The band director came up to the junior high to audition eighth-graders. I’d been playing the clarinet for three years by then and I dreamed of marching on the field at football games and playing “Rock Around the Clock” (there was a ’50s resurgence at the time and the crowds always went wild when the band played “Rock Around the Clock” and, yes, I did eventually get to experience that moment). I had swimming lessons and could be found at the pool just about every day during the summer. There were myriad of crafts, Girl Scouts, YMCA camp and other outdoor ventures that I loved. But piano. Ugh!

                There was always a piano in the house growing up. My mom still has a piano and an organ (yes, a full-size one like you’d see in a church) and a keyboard. She teaches basic piano lessons.

                Do I regret not paying attention? Definitely. I wish, now, that I’d been more studious at piano so I could sit down at a baby grand and make magic happen on the keys. But today, sadly, all I can manage on the piano are the opening bars to Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata.”

What stresses you?

Un-journal prompt #8
Continuing with the series of Un-journaling prompts, here's my answer to:

What stresses you?

I’ll approach this as a list. And it's a rather short one at that but the items are significant to me:

• Missing deadlines.

• Being late – and I’m always late, for everything: work, church, doctor’s appointments, dates, etc. Can’t seem to get myself together.

• A junky house – so I guess I’m always stressed about this!

• Feeling as if I’m not living my purpose in life and that time is running out to do something, make a change, find my True North, make a difference.

• The Check Engine light on the dash of my car. That usually means an expensive repair is soon to be knocking at my wallet. For proof, see what happened to me in September!

Unjournal journaling: Packing up to move

Un-journal prompt #7
Continuing with the series of Un-journaling prompts, here's my response to the simple prompt: 

How many times have you moved in your life?

Moving is not something I like to do. So when I do it, it’s going to be for the long haul. Sometimes I wish I’d grown up military or married a military man. The constant moves that are required of military members means you have to keep the possessions to a manageable level.

As a child we lived in Cleveland and Akron, Ohio; and in a town outside Pittsburgh. As an adult, I’ve moved eight times. Goodness! I didn’t realize it was even that much.

To college: I’m from Pennsylvania and did undergrad in Hampton, Virginia.

Home: After graduation I moved back home and commuted into Pittsburgh where I worked as a newspaper reporter.

To grad school: I left the newspaper to go to grad school at Ohio State in Columbus, Ohio. I moved into a third-floor walk-up apartment. I’d learned during my sophomore year in college that I did not like people on top of me. From heavy walking to music and the like, I knew that if I were ever in an apartment again (or a dormitory), I’d need to live on the top floor. So I found a studio I could afford on a grad student’s non-existent income and called it home until after graduation when I got a job back in Virginia.

Back to Virginia: My first move was to a hotel for a week. My employer put me up until I found an apartment.

Magnolia House: That place ended up being a lovely old Victorian – with magnolia trees in the yard -- that had been converted into five apartments. Unfortunately, heating the place was killing me, so I began looking for another place to live. By the way, today, Magnolia House is a lovely bed-and-breakfast inn.

Phoebus area of Hampton: I moved in with friends and we had the perfect living arrangements. We shared a townhouse and all three of us were on completely different work schedules. The arrangement lasted for two years.

Cottage Life: Next stop after Libbey Street was a lovely little cottage. Little being the operative word. If the oven door was open, you couldn’t open the refrigerator. The “table” in the living room/dining room combo came out of the wall – similar to a Murphy bed. When I bought bedroom furniture, I only got the headboard and a night table. A chest of drawers didn’t fit in the room! But there were no adjoining walls with the neighbors and I kept pots of geraniums on the steps. I stayed there until I bought a house.

Current: The place I call home now has been home since 1990. When I moved in, I danced around in all of the glorious space that was mine, mine, mine. My entire cottage would have fit in the living room and dining room of the house – with room to spare! Now, of course, it’s filled to capacity and I shudder at the thought of having to pack up and move somewhere.

Three Things You Can't Go Without

Un-journal Prompt 5
Continuing with the series of Un-journaling prompts, here's my response to an intriguing one. Feel free to post yours below. The Un-journal prompt was "Three Things You Can't Go Without."

Three things I can't go without: Food. Water. Shelter.

After the big three, there are truly few things I could live without.

People come and go in our lives, friends, family members, lovers, co-workers. Possessions are fleeting – or in the case of hoarders, overwhelming – and are, after all, just things. Even things with significant monetary value are still just things. You can’t take them with you when you die. Although plenty of kings and emperors and pharaohs have tried to do just that as they headed into the afterlife surrounded by jewels, wine, servants and the trappings of their power.

As for the trappings of modern life, there are certainly things that I wonder how I managed before they existed. Among them:

·        The microwave. My oven is essentially a place where I store the baking pans and trays that I don’t use.

·        My mobile phone. I do just about everything on it: banking, bills, play, reading, emails, etc. Oh, yeah, and phone calls – which is actually the least of what I do with it.

·        Post-it notes. God bless the 3M scientist who accidentally invented them!

What's the most significant event in your lifetime?

Un-Journal Prompt 4

What do you think has been the most significant event that has taken place during your life?

How I wish I could say there was just one significant event. There have however been many. While I don’t remember either of these tragic events, they happened during my lifetime: the assassinations of President John F. Kennedy and Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. My parents have recounted what they were doing and when for each. Just like for my own list, I could tell you exactly what I was doing when and where when each event happened.

Since each of the following eight events could in and of themselves be full journal entries, I’ll only list them and provide a sentence or two on the why. The memorable and significant events in my own memory include:

Death of Pope John Paul I in 1978: I was 16 and in Alaska when we heard the news. I remember being glued to the television in a hotel and crying.

Explosion of Space Shuttle Challenger, Jan. 28, 1986: So excited about this. So devastated. I have a photo of the crew that I later got at Kennedy Space Center.

Sale of my first book in 1993 and Its publication in 1994: This still makes me smile … all these years later.

My brother’s death on Feb. 3, 1996: I miss him every day and go to his grave whenever I’m home in Pennsylvania.

Death of Princess Diana in 1997: Spent the entire night with CNN; felt as if a sister had died. I wrote a column for the newspaper about why women were so devastated about her death. The column’s basic premise: We’re fed the Prince Charming fairy tale from childhood and this one didn’t end right.

Sept. 11, 2001: Horror of all horrors.

Election of Barack Obama/Inauguration of President Obama: The election for the historical significance of the first African-American president; the inauguration on Jan. 28, 2009, because of my neighbor Dave’s suicide-by-cop incident. (Way too long to get into here: short version, neighbor on street went crazy; SWAT, bomb squad, evacuation; eventually shot by police when he came out with what they thought was a bomb attached to his chest. On any other day, this would have dominated the front page of the paper and TV broadcasts, but it was Inauguration Day.) So for me, the president’s inauguration will always be tied with that incident..

What's it like to live with you?

Un-journal Prompt 3

Describe what you think it is like to live with you

What is it like to live with me? Probably horrible. Why? Let me list the reasons:

I’m more than a tad obsessive-compulsive (OCD), a borderline hoarder, a lousy housekeeper, a handbag/totebag-a-holic and way too set in my ways.

I have, as my mother says, “too many hobbies” – a statement I disagree with, by the way. I’m just interested in life! – which translates into a lot of stuff that supports each of the interest areas.

I’m a wild sleeper, always have been, so only a king-size bed is big enough.

I don’t like curtains, blinds or shades on the windows on the back of the house. I like the sun to shine in, including in the bedroom, and I love seeing the egrets fly in. (My property backs a wetlands so there’s nothing out there but water, birds and nature.)

I hate to wash dishes and clothes, and put off both tasks until there is absolutely nothing left clean to eat on or to wear.