Today was the first day of Pele weather and I still need a new leather. Like the red one I used to visit in the shop window in Forest Hills. That was forever ago when I was living with a girl in a hotel room in north Jersey.
I suppose it's really been quite a while since I opened a bottle of red wine and cozied up in my jammies and ignored human contact. It feels so nice and the wine tastes so comfortable.
The chilly air hit early this afternoon just after a short soaking rain. I had my pumpkin coffee in hand and headed into Room 104, my favorite 9 foot Steinway. I sat down and started playing and remembered 12 years ago, my piano in the living room... my big, beautiful, shiny black grand piano in the ugly room in the ugly house. Chopin Nocturnes while I could barely see straight from entirely too much self medication. One particular time, one especially drunk and down time, I remember my mother complimenting me the next morning, "You sounded really fantastic last night playing. The best I've heard in years!"
I don't have a piano anymore. I can only play at the school. And then I can't drink.
I used to love my second apartment in Nashville... 359 Mountain High Drive :) The wonderful apartment with 2 full bathrooms and a balcony and a cat and a piano. I loved it when I was home alone.. I'd open a bottle of Boone's Farm, because that's all I could afford aside from the whiskey and vodka, and I'd dance and play and drink for hours.
That piano got repossessed when I moved back to Philly. They should have never given it to me but I'm glad they did.
A colleague came in my room today as I was picking through a Chopin Etude. "Miss" Olga often eavesdrops while I'm playing I've learned. "There's just something special when you play classical music. Something special there that no one else I've ever heard has. Your touch.... I love it. I could listen to you all day and all night. So beautiful!"
She smiled and left me with the ghost of my Maynard sitting beside me on the bench.
