Yesterday I purchased a portable musical instrument. It’s an instrument some like to ridicule. An eye roller to some. It’s the instrument our mother played. I don’t recall how she came to play it. Perhaps it was her Polish heritage or the just the era and community where she was raised. It’s the instrument our parents bought us and we shared it and all took lessons. I was never much more than a beginner but have always thought I should give it another go. Somewhere along the way the instrument became a bit of a joke in some arenas but it’s always had a place in my heart and hey, Leonard Cohen’s songs often feature it.
Yes, it is the accordion. Since it is possible there may be a comment or tease or two in response to this blog, thought I’d just get things going:
- What’s the difference between an accordion and a macaw? One is loud, obnoxious and noisy; the other is a bird.
- Why did the chicken cross the road? To get away from the accordion recital.
- What’s the difference between an accordion and an onion? People cry when you chop up an onion.
No matter, I now own a cute grey/green 40 bass vintage Weltmeister accordion yesterday and am very tickled with the purchase!
I have a talented enthusiastic teacher and once I remember where the C key is located we can start. I haven’t taken lessons for decades. Many decades. But no matter, here we go. It’s important to have goals and I’ve set one and will work towards it, enthusiastically. By the end of this year I want to play the Beatles song “When I’m Sixty Four”. Because I own an accordion and that’s what I am. Sixty four, not an accordion.
When leaving the house to buy the accordion yesterday I asked my husband if he wanted to come with me. He said no thanks, he wanted to stay home and enjoy his last hours of peace and quiet.
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