My Mom kicks tush on the piano. Man, she can play it like nobody's business. She plays at weddings, churches, etc. Melanie, my sister, following in her footsteps, took piano lessons and still plays very well. I guess they wanted the legacy to continue with me.

The piano is a very pretty instrument to listen to but I really had no desire to play. I would rather play football with the kids in the neighborhood. Anyway, my mom made me take a lesson, you know... just to see if I like it.

Why is it when people taste something awful, they want everyone else to taste it? And, when we see someone taste something awful, why do we want to taste it? Not sure how that relates to this, but just thought I would throw that one out to ya.

I was 7 or 8 years old and getting ready for my first piano lesson. Yes, my mom made me wear the lovely little plaid pants, slicked hair, you know.. the squeaky clean kid thing. I was thinking, ok, I can handle 30 minutes.

Melanie was supposed to have her 30 minute lesson and then I was to have 30 minutes after her. Something was wrong, we were driving to the lesson and Melanie was not in the car. I find out she is not taking her lesson and that I would have the pleasure of an hour long piano lesson.

Crying, screaming, etc.. Nothing gets me out of the terror which faces me. I sat with this lady for a whole hour! How many times can you practice scales, play "the little doggie running down the road". To sum it up in a two word phrase. "It sucked". hahahaha... My fingers hurt and my eyes were blood shot from the tears.

After 16 years of therapy, I have finally accepted this traumatic experience as a learning experience. Just kidding. The piano is a great instrument to play... It is not for me.