Piano student told me she is so impatient about wanting to play new things that she plays the mistake over and over like a toddler trying to walk and falling on it’s face. Then I said like trying to juggle four balls without first mastering three. Then she said like trying to find the street without bothering to see the map. Then I said like mispronouncing a word and imagining time will correct itself. Then she said like counting eggs before they hatch. Then I said like planning your retirement before working a job. Then she said like taking the elevator when your calves need the exercise. Then I said like offering to pick up the cheque before seeing the total. Then she said like playing the opening harmonics of Roundabout without knowing how to play the rest of the song while being on live television. Then I said like being at a wedding and hearing the officiant ask if anyone opposes and raising your hand as a joke but then everyone turns expecting you to explain yourself. Then she said like making perfect kasha by bringing water to a boil but not actually waiting for the water to come to a boil. Then I said like being in a canoe trying to locate a spot to set up your tent when the sun has started to go down and not stopping right away even if it isn’t the best place because soon you will be stuck in the night and have to spend many probably uncomfortable hours lying in a canoe assuming the weather doesn’t get worse and it is mosquito season too. Then she said like showing how witty you are writing about it instead of practising.
That pissed me off and I quit.
And then she called me a baby and then I called her an asshole and then she called me infantile and then I called her arrogant and then she called me a has been and then I called her a no talent and then she called me a takes-one-to-know-one and then I called her a Bryan Adams fan and then she called me a guy whose taste is up his ass and then I called her a wannabe and then she called me a fake and then I called her a music supervisor and then she called me a loser and then I called her a prima donna and then she called me a James Grey copycat and that’s when it went too far. She got me even though she was just taking blind stabs in the dark, hoping to make up something to hurt. The truth is much stranger than her invented accusation because I felt for James. He had his weirdness, he didn’t know much how to not be weird. Lot of impulsive actions not necessarily with a lot of thought. It would be easy to be hostile back but then the possibility of a relationship wouldn’t exist. Sometimes one party has to be more patient. Eventually we discussed things in common and everything was cool or as cool as it could be. I enjoy the memory of the squeal in his laugh when I answered his question about publishing and the Hall of Fame Induction. The last time I saw him busking in Dundas west subway playing accordion stays when I pass that part of the station. Glad we had something not dysfunctional.
Practising a mistake is the opposite of practising it working.