The Forbes/Burleson family was another story. The long-standing joke of my Daddy's has been that the only thing they played was the radio and even it had static! In the midst of that was my grandmother, Elsie Marie Burleson Forbes and her love for piano music... particularly that of Floyd Cramer.
Granny Elsie died when she was 48 and I was three. I do not remember her and yet her dream lives on in me. You see, she wanted her grandaughter to play piano! My dad talked about her love for beautiful piano music and how she would sit and listen to Floyd Cramer playing in her living room on 33 1/3 vinyl record albums on a console stereo. Years after her death, those records would become some of my most cherished memories.
Our living room was a "formal" room with 1970's gold shag carpet, real lined gold drapes, orange and gold floral furniture, a console stereo and tall piano like you might find in a honky tonk! If you were "company" you could go in the living room. I could also go in there to practice piano but it was not a place to just play or hang out. The rare, fun and cherished memories are when we would go in there to sit, as a family, and dad would take the flower arrangement, what-nots, and lace linens off that big console. He would slide the two doors on the front, revealing the speakers and he would play those big dusty records for us. It was there that I too, fell in love with Floyd Cramer as the melody of "Last Date" or "San Antonio Rose" would play through the white noise, scratches and pops of the old record!
It was on that big old piano that I would sit and practice... sometimes voluntarily and sometimes forced, as I would work on my lesson practice for the week. For years, my grandmothers dream seemed it would never come true as I stayed in Book One year after year after long, laborious, and boring year.
With Floyd Cramer in the back of my head, my desire to play... I mean REALLY play... took flight.
For months, I played "Bill Grogan's Goat (wump wump wump wump) was feeling fine (bong bong bong bong) ate three red shirts (wank wank wank wank) right off the line (wump bong wank plunk)" and with each passing note I grew to detest - no HATE - Bill Grogan and his stupid goat. I did not want to play Bill Grogan's Goat and knew the piano held more than those boring notes!
It was then that the voice of Bonnie Tyler entered my little world. The year was 1978 and I was seven years old. "It's a Heartache" hit the radio and I HAD to learn to play! Bill Grogan would have to wait on verse two to find out what happened to his goat because I had to master the piano part of "It's a Heartache" and needed to figure out how to make my seven year old voice sound like Bonnie Tyler and that raspy pack-a-day sound that she had. I practiced and I sang and I played and I listened to her song over and over and over again. Finally, I got it right.
My piano teacher shook her head as week after week, I just could not master the Bill Grogan piece. Finally, I shared, with splendor and excitement, Bonnie Tyler. To my dismay, she was not impressed and informed me that my only heartache was the waste of time and money because I would not play what was on the page. Sigh..... It comes as no surprise that I was eventually kicked out of piano lessons and never made it out of Book Two. I have no idea how much money was spent on those futile lessons.
A wonderful lady came into my life in ninth grade. She had a Bonnie Tyler voice and her studio was filled with smoke as she taught lessons. She was a fiery older woman and had taught at Julliard in her younger years. An amazing talent who asked me to play for her as she stuck a piece of music in front of me. I fumbled my way through some obscure classical piece and just knew that she would not take on a student like me. Then she pulled the music away and said, "now play what you want to play" and so I did... the music in my head rather than the stuffy sheet music on the piano. When I stopped playing, she took a long drag on her cigarette and said, "to play by ear is a gift from God. I can work with that. Yes, I will teach your girl." Sooo.... week after week, mom took me to her little studio in Simpsonville, SC and paid her and week after week, she worked on a little musical interpretation, notes, fundamentals and theory and a LOT on ear, chords, progressions, keys and hearing. She agreed to forego the stuffy recitals if I would play in church and so I began playing for our services.
After some time, she said she had taught me enough for a while and that I needed to work on what I had learned. She said that at some point, I would want to learn more and that as I progressed more, I would know what it was that I wanted to learn. Many years later I went back to her studio and it was there no more.... another little shop had taken its place. I cannot remember her name but am forever indebted to her for affirming that I would not be a colossal loser because Bill Grogan's Goat was problematic but that God has given me a gift that needed to be nurtured.
Today, I still play in church and love to sit down and play something I just heard on the radio. The old piano still looks like it could be in a honky tonk somewhere, but instead, my childhood piano sits in my formal living room where my little girl plunks out notes. I think Granny Elsie would be proud and even though I don't sound like Floyd Cramer, I think she would like what I play. I also think she would be happy that I have some Floyd Cramer on my iPod... with a little Bonnie Tyler mixed in!
