Well, they say idle hands make decisions dull, and I think my hands must be very idle. You see, there is song in my Jeremiah 17:9 heart, and aside from song, a feeling that I won't quite be right until I learn...the dread instrument.
There is a certain pastor that did a very nice series on music. As he went on describing a bit of music theory, I found myself captivated, even if I didn't understand it. I especially liked his rant on how you can flat the 4th and the 5th and make a different genre of music. I was reminded of some lovestruck fool that can't understand what on earth their lovestriker is talking about, but is nevertheless captivated. Not that I'm in love with the guy. Oh, great, just what I need.
Anyway, it all started last Wednesday. I don't remember most of it, except that somehow I walked away with the objective of learning the piano.
...thus, with my mostly fabricated mission um, materialized, I set out with no official directive. My first step was to contact the Saints in California, as my manner is. I went through my usual middleman, and the kin folk said, "Kev, send my sister an email!" so I loaded up Gmail and wrote out a note and now I'm waiting for my Texas tea. Understand?
In the email, I posed two questions: firstly, keyboard-wise, what do I need to begin? Secondly, how do I begin?
I venture a bold assumption that you don't need many keys to learn the basics. As for beginning, I think a book/CD program should work, as it would seem logical to me that discussing complex mathematical formulas is not something to do while paying someone $50 an hour at a house that smells like antifreeze. If...if antifreeze has a scent. Does it? All I know is that it tastes great and is shiny.
That happened over the last few days. Today, I set my sights. My target: The only pianist I know.
Long story short, I stalked and cornered her and began as I usually do when people need knocking off guard. "Mrs. Manny Hitman!" I said. "You can play the piano. I want to play the piano, too!" We talked for what must have been four hours, and eventually she convinced me that she can't play hymns.
I then asked her what kind of piano I need: 50 key, 60 key, 76 key, 88 key? She affirmed that 88 key is too much for non-classical, but as she does not play hymns, she doesn't know what range is needed. And she doesn't like keyboards. I understand.
I asked her the basics of learning, expressing my mystifi...mys...inability to comprehend the perplexities of singling out and striking sets of three differing keys at once in rapid succession and with apparent accuracy. I don't think she quite understood me; it is a difficult thing to explain when you know how to play and there's a noob clinging to you and it... it just... won't... let... go!
Something needed doing, and we had already been talking for more than fourteen hours, so we parted ways. I went to what I think is my thinking chair to try to absorb what she said. I'll shorten this now and say that as a direct result of skillful cunning of her own, I now can take pictures like this:
Thanks! I'm borrowing it, and I should be able to tell if I have the mystical musical talent within a short time. It's going OK. Already, I can finger what is known as the most useless chord:
OK. From what I can tell, that's Gb Ab A G C E F G#...and I think the chord name for that is Gb/AMaug5#b, which would be pronounced "Gee-flat over A Major augment the 5th sharp-flat." Sounds like a useless chord to me.My main goal is to learn the keys. I don't know how to do this, and I may be a bit in a bind until I get word from th---
ECHO, NO!
