reinje's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the grand spit and polish One of the drawbacks about working 40+ hours a week at Logan McDandy is that one has to be very judicious about one�s practicing schedule. I know! I have a keen grasp of the obvious! So far (and I might take this back) --so far -- it has been much easier for me to appease the Practicing Demons while maintaining a day job than it was when I had nothing else to do. When I had nothing else to do and could fill my day with practicing, all I thought about was practicing. Had I practiced enough, was I being efficient, how long till my next cleaning attack took me away from the piano�these were but few of the questions that plagued me 10 or 12 hours a day. Nowadays, I only have about 5 hours total (after work-wise) to worry about practicing. 3, when you take time off to eat and work out. So what I�m trying to say is, I no longer have any time to worry! It�s fobelhauft ! It makes for a bit of a crunch when opportunity knocks, as it recently did, offering me a premiere at Alice Tully Hall alongside the fabulous Jocelyn and the chance to perform as a piano soloist with orchestra. Yes, and yes! So I came up with an ingenious plan: practice early in the morning! Only Wayne, our neighbour, probably wouldn�t like the musical strains of Chopin pounding against his bedroom wall in the morning. Lucky for me, there is a grand piano in the clubroom (not a bad piano) which was put there by one of the tenants who couldn�t fit it in his apartment. And I figure it doesn�t border on anything except the leasing office and the gym, so that should cut down on the possibility of offending anyone with my music. Wicked! Empowered by my strategy, I woke up at 6:10 AM. Folks, that�s 3 o�clock in the morning in Los Angeles! JackHanSolo would have scarcely been home from his moonlighting act as a promulgator of Hair Band rock �n� roll by that time. Showered, shat, and shaved (as He likes to say), I headed down to the first floor and settled myself down on the piano bench. I was feeling be-coffeed and benevolent (��played with sensitive benevolence by this pleasant pianist�� I fantasized the headlines read). I had scarcely got through the first page of the Andrew Lloyd Weber medley when I heard someone enter the room. It was Jorge, the caretaker. I kept playing. Jorge busied himself in the kitchenette. He passed by the piano, cleaning rag and solvent in hand, on his way to clean the boardroom. Suddenly the keys felt awfully tacky to the touch. Jorge turned on the vacuum cleaner. I began to sweat. I remembered all the times I had seen kids playing the piano, their jammy fingers sticking up the keys. Jorge turned off the vacuum cleaner and went back into the kitchen. I peeked around the corner to get a good look at Jorge�s cleaning cart. I was filled with an overwhelming need to wipe down the keys. Jorge caught me staring at his cart. I felt it would be rude not to address him, so I said good morning and then asked him if I could use one of his cloths to wipe down the keys. I motioned with my fingers to show him the texture of the sticky greasiness that lingered there. Jorge beamed and produced a magnificent cloth, lemon-yellow and soft as down. I whispered my thanks and returned to the piano. With a flourish, I polished the keys, feeling a deep satisfaction at having removed the germs and body oils that festered there. In the mind of my reader, this may seem like a little bit of a relapse, a �falling off the wagon,� if you will. I�m not so sure. Truth be told, that poor forlorn piano needed a little love - it needed to have its ivories tickled, it needed a rub-down. I was there, and thanks to Jorge, we met its needs. Before leaving, I gently buffed the lid and rim. Then I returned the yellow cloth to Jorge�s cart. I�m fairly certain that my cleaning of the piano in the community room of our apartment building does not technically constitute a reversion to my prior ways. It is curious, yet, that my first day on the new piano involved a little spit and polish. I guess I�ll have to wait till tomorrow to find out. - Reinje 4:17 p.m. - 2006-02-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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