When my dad died a couple years ago, once everything had been paid for, he left a little bit of money to each of the kids, but with the understanding or intention that it be used to get something that we could remember him with or by, something for our houses, or something to last. I hadn’t thought of anything to get or use it for, so I just left it with my mom. Then a couple of months ago, I was talking to Kelly and told her: “I think we should use the money that dad left to get a piano.” We had been talking about getting a piano for our house for some time. We had wanted one before we moved but didn’t have any place to put it (our old house was ~1000sqft) .

Growing up we always had a piano. Every one of my brothers and sisters played an instrument in high school for our elective arts, and most of us still play, even if it’s only little bits now and then. When we’re home for any event, wedding, funeral, reunion, graduation, party, bail hearing, etc, there’s always someone plinking away on the piano or a guitar or whatnot, and it’s something that I want to instill into my kids – even if they decide they don’t want to play anything, or sing, I want them to have an appreciation for music, and the artistry that goes into it.

Anyways, last week I saw a piano for sale on craigslist, and I had had my eye out for some time for one in our price range (<$500) and in decent shape – I also had a few restrictions, in that I didn’t want a grand, baby grand or full sized upright, I wanted a spinet or smaller vertical piano (<48″) so it would be easier to move – my mom had a full upright for the longest time and the thing was a beast – it weighed in around 800-900 pounds and was impossible to move without machinery or 6-7 burly dudes. So on saturday we went down to gilroy to check it out and it was nice, in really good shape, basically just needed to be tuned. It had been well cared for and was just the right size (and it was a mighty Wurlitzer, although not quite as impressive as the one at the Stanford Theatre.) So I returned the next day with a pickup truck and 3 burly friends and we hefted it into the truck, drove it home and the kids were plinking on it immediately. It fight right into the spot we selected, and once adorned with a picture of my dad, I knew he approved.

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i was thinking earlier about looking back through my blog and trying to analyze some of the memories and things that I’ve put in there. Sometimes I’ll be driving in the car and think about things and scrawl them on my hand, only to forget them later – but this time i have two that i thought of. both are memories, of when i was pretty young.

the first took place when i was in kindegarden in new orleans. one morning my dad was making my sandwiches for lunch. now as you can imagine, any small child is occasionally particular about what they eat. usually mom made me a sandwich – pb&j or tuna and cut it in half, diagonally. i tried to explain this that morning to my dad saying ‘mom always makes me two sandwiches.’ i’m sure i stated that a couple times, and i didn’t realize that he would interpret this as two whole sandwiches, instead of two halves, which i of course ate. so lunch time rolls around and i pull out my box and realize that dad did in fact make me two whole sandwiches. i ate the first and then when my teacher came around and found that i had a whole sandwich in my lunchbox, she told me to eat it. i tried in vain to explain how the mixup happened, but she told me to eat it anyways. i don’t remember how much of it i ate.

when i lived in tillsonburg, one spring we had a yard sale and i remember my mom spreading out a wealth of treasures on our pingpong table in the basement, and one of our neighbours coming over and helping her price them. i remember feeling so indignant at that! the fact that she would have the nerve to put a price on our things. she put 10c on one item and i remember telling her ‘that’s worth more than ten cents’ and her brushing me off.

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