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Before I took lessons, I remember playing Soul (LH & RH), Chopsticks, the thing you do on the black notes with your knuckles, etc. on the old upright that was downstairs in the den...but later...

I clearly remember my first piano lesson and first practice session. I was 10, (5 decades ago). My teacher had explained to me how to read the notes. After he left, I painstakingly figured out both LH and RH notes to "The Woodchuck", the first piece in Schaum's Book A. I clearly remember looking at the music and feeling exhilarated that I could read it. I also remember being thrilled by the harmony. From that point on, I was hooked.

Well, my first piano memory is crying profusely before the keyboard. I was seven and a crybaby. I'm glad my parents disciplined me.

Anytime I have looked at a piano. I had to touch. ...As an old man. Well...older. Music is my sanctuary. ...

... As it turn out, music and the piano have been the ideal substitute for flying. Six months into this project and I know it is the perfect combination of eye hand coordination, manual dexterity, and tons of technical information that must be mastered. It has many similarities to learning to fly an airplane, but, there is much more to learn and I now know why 10 year students are only beginning to master the real nuances of playing.

There are other benefits too..it lowers my blood pressure by a full ten points when I play and it keeps my mind sharp. I know many might find practice tedious and frustrating but aviation taught me that time and perseverance is what wins the day...

Anytime I have looked at a piano. I had to touch. That was mom's number one law breaker. I have always approached a piano and played a single key the most pp I could possibly play it. That is the one sound I sought in judging any piano. That is the beauty of a piano to me. Each single pure note. Absolutely beautiful sound.

As a kid. The neighbors across the street decided to redecorate their living room. All our homes had a family room and a living room. Living room was always a formal creation of the mother. Well...those neighbors decided their living room would have a baby grand. And nothing else. They forced their two children to take lessons. They hated it. Parents had no idea how to play. I walked in their house. Saw that baby. Walked in there. Oh no! That was society's first law I broke! All of us knew that the living room wasn't for children! And touch it? God forbid! It was absolutely beautiful. I lusted for it.

As an old man. Well...older. Music is my sanctuary. Piano is the center of a complete education in music. Piano goes hand in hand with what I tried to avoid. A 'gift' of singing.

My mom bought a piano 1 week before I started piano. Back in those days in Japan, it was custom to start various lessons (piano, violin, dancing, fencing, etc) on June 6th of the 6th year (age six). I am not kidding. If anyone doubts it, here's the Japanese for that (習い事を 始めるのは６歳の６月６日). BTW, it does not have anything to do with devil worshipping or anything of that sort.

Anyway, my mom took me to a Yamaha music academy in town. I remember she made me stand right next to a tall black piano and told me, "Isn't it nice? It's a brand new piano. Yow are so lucky. Now you have to promise me that you are goind to practice everyday". I was stunned because I never asked for it. I never knew what she meant by practicing. Before she heard me saying anyting, she quickly told everyone with a broad smile that I was elated, so happy that I could not find any word". I wished I had a quiet moment with the piano. I did not even know what it sounded like. I did not have any chance to try it. A decision for purchase was made very quickly and my lesson started from the following week.

I suspect my mom wanted the piano much more than I. As soon as the piano was delivered she was right at it playing a bunch of children's songs. She got stuck from time to time. She then looked back at me and told me how much she wished she could have played the piano and how fortunate I was. I was going to get formal lessons that she could not get because her parents were poor. There was something in her tone, something sad, wistful and honest. She then showed me a big old piece of paper that had black keys and white keys of piano hand drawn. She said that it was her piano. She had to study piano as a part of the Early Childhood Education program in her junior college. She went there on 100% goverment grant and scholarship. Her parents were so poor that they could not afford piano or college. She said she negotiated with a nearby primary school to let her use thier only piano after hours. At home she practiced with the paper piano. When saw those torn brown papers, tears came up in my eyes. I felt so sorry for my mom. I promised that I would practice everyday. I was a simple six year old.

It's probably totaly beyond the scope of the OT, sorry. My mom was an education monger and I had some rough time with her in my teen and early adulthood but it's all under the bridge now. I came back to piano after long yers of absence and appreciate my mom for giving me a life time joy whenever I touch a key. Needless to say, my mom was very happy to see her investment not wasted when she recently visited me.

My first touch of the piano? When my mother and new stepfather moved us into a house where the previous owner thought moving her mid-century upright was too much of a hassle. Mass market, poorly maintained, and barely holding its' tinny tuning, I used to go and plunk on the black keys and think myself quite the maestro. I was probably four years old. That was also the piano I began my lessons on in grade school.

Not surprisingly, when my *mother* decided she wanted to play, suddenly that old piano just wouldn't do and she bought a new Yamaha. Apparently the goose is more demanding than the gander, on piano quality