Music

I think music means a little something different to everyone. Some like to sing, write, play an instrument or listen to thousands of tunes on their iPhones/Droids. Music fills our lives and is used to "date' our lives as well. I have a friend who knows exactly what year a song was released based solely on what was going on in her life at the time. Music provides the soundtrack by which we look back and remember.

I have had my share of musical moments in my lifetime. I have made more "mix tapes" than I can count, sang in my high school chorus for all four years and even managed to pick up a guitar and play in our grade school church group. I can pound out some notes on a piano as well although even that is hit and miss.

When my father spent a month at Good Samaritan Hospital this year, I would pass the same quiet Baby Grand in the lobby. No one ever played it. It sat there silently just begging someone to "tickle the ivory's". Now...I have always wanted to learn to play just one song really well on the piano. Just one.....I'm not greedy nor do I want to embark on a new musical adventure by building out a piano repertoire for myself. I just would like to learn one song and I have decided that the one song would be "Roll Out The Barrel". Yes.....that might bring you a chuckle but it is a lively song that generally brings a smile to someones face when they hear it.

So you can imagine my disappointment the day I looked at the hospital Baby Grand closely.

"Please refrain from playing any music other than that of a "soothing" nature." Really. No wonder the piano is quiet all of the time. I mean....what is more soothing than a fun-loving rendition of "Roll Out The Barrel"? The last thing that I would want to hear during my recuperation period is a classical number from Mozart. And besides that......you have to be a volunteer. Apparently the volunteers are struggling with the whole "soothing nature" idea as well.

So my dream of filling up the lobby of GSH with the sounds of "Roll Out The Barrel" have been dashed for now. On my father's last day at the hospital, I was very very tempted to streak through the lobby and play "Chopsticks" just because it was so forbidden. However, I just couldn't bear being arrested by a hospital guard and having "Chopsticks" tainted in my memory for the rest of my life.

I would have loved telling the story though...........