My Piano

I rent a piano. It's true, this is one of the many amazing things available in New York. I can also have someone pick up my dirty laundry and return it twenty four hours later, clean and folded. I can have groceries, dinner, or alcohol delivered to my doorstep as well. But, I digress. I began renting my piano about a year ago. A friend of mine who is beyond musically talented told me about his piano and I in a fit of covetousness decided I needed one too. I took piano lessons as a child reaching peak proficiency around the age of 15 from which point it was all down hill. I can now only play the simplest of tunes and a few memorized pieces from my halcyon days. One might ask then, why bother renting a piano?

My mother plays the piano beautifully. I can remember as a child falling asleep to the sound of her playing when my parents would have company. Sunday afternoon she would sometimes play when the aroma of a nearly ready sunday dinner had permeated the house. These memories and others like it bring me great joy and a sense of peace. Music in the house whether proficient or not, brings warmth. For this reason, I rent a piano for sixty bucks a month. A bargain by any standard.