We've had a piano in my house for as long as I remember. My mom and dad have both played since they were younger, and I have great memories of my mom playing Christmas songs and my dad singing along with them. When I was really small I started playing around with it, and not banging on the piano like other kids. We would get home from church and I would try to remember how the songs went that we sang that day, and then I would sit at the piano until dinner time trying to sound them out. One day, when I was 7, a lady from our ward that teaches piano was visiting my mom and she wanted to see what I had taught myself. She told my mom that she didn't usually take kids until they turn 8, but that I was already teaching myself bad habits (story\of my life) and that I needed to learn some technique before I got used to 'playing lazy'.
So, for the next 11 years, August-May every Tuesday for half an hour, I would go to Nancy's and she would lecture me. "You have so much natural ability, if you would just........." "Curve your fingers." "Count" "Don't rush" "Practice every day" "LEARN YOUR SCALES" Ladies and gentlemen, I HATE SCALES. I can do them, thanks to Nancy, but I hate them.
In 7th grade, I joined percussion. (And you best believe, I was the only one that could do my scales on the xylophone.) I LOVE percussion. Honestly, I thought the rest of the band kids were REALLY WEIRD. For example, the trombone player that ate paper and glue and one day, blew chunks all over the band room. Then there was this really hot guy (in my opinion) that I had a monster crush on for 3 years, until I finally just gave up. He was one of the cool ones, cause he was in percussion. We WERE cool. Believe me. We were the ones telling scary stories and playing truth or dare in the back of the bus when we went to band tournaments. The other kids were like, practicing or reading musical theory books. Yuck. AND our percussion ensemble won awards at every event we went to and they never placed. So.....we win.
After 9th grade I quit band. I didn't want to spend ALL SUMMER marching around in the heat and I DID NOT want to wear a stupid hat.........and the other kids were weird.
At least I still had piano. My grandma made me a deal that when she died, she would leave me her piano as long as I took lessons until I was 18. I would have liked to have quit sooner, because as soon as I got my license and a job (and a boyfriend) I had other things to do. Grandma is still alive, but I have the piano already. She moved from her great big house to a little apartment built on to my uncle's the summer after she slipped on ice in her drive way and laid there for who knows how long. There's not room for the piano there (and she doesn't know how to play, anyway) so I got the baby grand early.
It's the piano my dad learned on. He plays really well considering that whenever my Grandma gave him a check for the piano teacher, he would tear it up and go fishing. She also forced him into playing saxophone in the jazz band, but he ended up liking that better than piano.
I really miss percussion. I miss it a LOT. Playing the marimba was definitely my favorite. It's almost the same as the xylophone, but it's sound is much more......Latin? Maybe that's why I liked it so much. Honestly, if I was given the chance to play marimba again, whether it be for an orchestra or band or for ANYTHING I would take it in a heartbeat.
This is why. It's so damn fun! I played this song in 9th grade, and now Carmen is my favorite opera.
The kid in the video used wooden mallets which is PERFECT for this song, but they also have yarn mallets and rubber mallets.
So, there you go. Deep down inside, I'm kind of a music geek.