Object to be Destroyed by Man Ray
" Ticketa, ticketa-" The metronome was set fairly slow .
" Now dear! start again-" Mrs. Millers stubby unpainted finger pointed at the music.
Sitting very straight I lent forward and began to play once more.
Mrs. Millers finger waved with the ticker. When I lagged
in uncertainty, Mrs. Millers finger wagged with more emphasis.
I could hear the sharp intake of breath that preceded her
next attempt at encouragement." Better Aggie!" and after a slight pause;
" Here " She pointed,"You are to have a slight crescendo!" Which made me pound a
little more energetically for a few notes.
This was my homework piece - so I was slightly more confident.
However I knew a new piece would be lurking in the near future; then I would not get off with such ease.
Sure enough five minutes later Mrs. Miller drew out a double
sheet, unfolding and pressing it open." A Waltz my dear- a whole new arena - much
slower and easier pace. Let me show you!"
That was when the metronome became my hypnosis machine,
which helped my eyes learn how to glaze over and even try to doze a bit...
9 comments:
That lasst line is a hoot. Been there.
haha...the fact that you use mrs miller is funny...my sister had to learn as my mom had...and my mom even tried a bit on me but the ivories were not my music of choice...i would def zone out...smiles...
Lovely narrative, and that ending really is great!
preceded her
next attempt at encouragement
ha ha and the ending is great! My sister taught me for about three lessons... my mom couldn't take anymore arguing :)
haha... love the stubby finger, much like the metronome. I had a piano teacher that made me want to tune out at times.
Delightful! Recalling many practice sessions with glazed over eyes!!!
Great story. I certainly know the feeling; I learned to tune the metronome out.
I've had my share of metronomes...never will forget my first "electrified". Could never sleep with one of those things ticking away. Radio and traffis not bothering me, but that "time-bomb" tick-tick...would keep me bug-eyed.
Good memories, Izzy!
Good evocation of the World's Worst Piano Teacher. (There are hundreds of them!) Mine wouldn't give a metronome house room "You're learning how to play the piano, not how to keep up with a clockwork motor."
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