Mr. Peterson

I’m feeling sentimental today, I guess. I feel the need to write a tribute. Usually I just think these sorts of things in my head and don’t ever say them aloud, or write them and save them on my computer, but it occurred to me that other people post this sort of thing on their blog sometimes, so I thought I would go out on a limb and share this one with you all.

I was playing a song on the piano yesterday that I hardly ever play. It was “The Entertainer”, which I learned for a recital in third or fourth grade. I was young, but it is not so simplistic a song that it is no longer fun to play...it is, actually, quite enjoyable. The reason I don’t play it anymore is that I played it so much when I was a kid that my parents and siblings would probably be happy to never hear the song again for the rest of their lives and, feeling a bit bad for making them crazy with it, I gave up the song long ago. I realized yesterday, though, that my husband and kids weren’t there then so they probably wouldn’t mind my playing it...just once or twice...

Here is an amazing thing about the human mind: after hardly even looking at the song for years, my fingers still know it. The song calls for the use of the pedal, which smooths the notes, but I didn’t learn it with the pedal...I think because I couldn’t reach the pedals back then. As I was playing, I thought about Mr. Peterson, who was my piano teacher when I learned this song and how he always stressed the need to play “legato”, smooth and flowing, without breaks between the notes (unless, of course, the music called for “staccato” or it was the end of a phrase). Seeing as how I loved this man, I tried very hard to play legato as he wished. I don’t do this very well now, but I noticed that I was playing legato rather well in this song without even trying...it was part of what my fingers remembered. He told me so many times that if I was going to play the same note twice in a row, to not lift the key all the way up before depressing it again...I am sure I never do this now, because it is not easy, but I was doing it while playing the song I learned under his instruction.

So, I’ve been thinking about Burt Peterson today. I had to stop taking lessons from him after fourth grade when we moved to a different town and I had another piano teacher whom I still love. When Helen Ellingson left for Peru, though, I thought I was ready to be done with piano, but I continued to take lessons for a few more years because of Mr. Peterson. Whenever I thought about quitting, I thought of him and pressed on because I didn’t want to disappoint him. He was an elderly man when I knew him long ago so I imagine he is no longer with us. He probably wouldn’t even remember me if he were, but I will always remember him...and so will my fingers, I guess.

Video by Jake

Here's a good video Jake created that you should email to your friends - you have to listen closely to what he is saying, and pay close attention:

Online Relationships

Why people go through all the effort to put together a ceremony to “renew” their vows, I do not know. It can be so easily done these days with Facebook. Toby just sat me down and told me to respond to his official request to join that I received in email several days ago...and I did. While filling out my profile, he told me he would do something on the website so we’d be listed as married to each other. I was then informed online that Toby Smith would like to add me as “spouse”. I was asked, “Would you like to confirm this relationship?” I had two buttons from which I could choose: “Confirm” or “Ignore”. I thought about it for a minute...and then went ahead and confirmed.

“You are now in a relationship with Toby Smith”, I was told. Simple as that. Could have saved my parents a lot of money on that wedding if there had been Facebook twelve years ago.

Now I’m really laughing. I went back to finish my “profile” and it now says I’m married to Toby Smith and under that it has a place I can click that says “Cancel Relationship”.

I thought about adding my sister, Gail, as my first friend, but it told me she would have to confirm the friendship and I decided the possible rejection was too much for me to bear so I decided to wait.

Each time I am faced with a new technological possibility, I progress through five stages (you saw this happen with the blog):
1. Ignorance
2. Refusal (because these things always seem cheesy to me at first or because "I don't have time.")
3. Reluctant concession (usually for my husband)
4. Enthusiasm
5. Abdication

I’m at stage three so you can probably expect to eventually see more of me on Facebook...and then don’t be surprised when I disappear again.