Piano man. If you’re a regular reader, you know I was very much looking forward to today’s debut of the Play Me, I’m Yours exhibit. I hopped a train to the nearest piano. I helped someone on the train with directions as to which stop would be best, and accepted an increased number of compliments happily.
I didn’t even get nervous when a guy channeled Kid Rock – announcing to the train he was a cowboy, baby – and then bounded up the stairs at the exit screeching about getting some (expletive) dope. Judging from my experience as a viewer of Intervention, I’m going to say he was already on something. I’ve never seen a person take stairs like that. Hollywood is the place of dreams tho, and everyone’s dreams are different.
More polite compliments. I have no idea what prompted them, but I was gracious each time.
I made it to the piano and wasn’t disappointed.
Can we talk about that elderly couple for a second? His jubilance was palpable, and when the guy started playing Scott Joplin, I seriously thought he was going to get up and dance. I loved them and their sweaters so much.
May we all be so lucky.
As I said, after doing classical pieces, he offered up ragtime and none of us complained. Joplin has StL connections. And altho I’ve never been to his house, I felt a connection. It was seriously like listening to a player piano. Except someone was playing it.
I felt like we should all be in a parlor somewhere. Or in Joplin’s case, a brothel.
Unfortunately my hands were super shaky this am, but here’s a little tease of the magic.
Ladies who lunch. I met my friend Babs for lunch to discuss a new project we’re working on. I chose the restaurant based on the fact that I had been there last week and fell in like with my waiter. So of course he wasn’t working today. But we made some good progress on the important things, and had a great meal and fun times.
Good clean fun. Tonight we gathered a group and headed to a local bowling alley. For some reason, I’m lucky to live near two bowling alleys that feel nothing like “LA,” and everything like what a bowling alley should feel like.
We have no idea why we never thought to do it before. Such a good time. Made even better because none of us are fantastic. The music was exactly what we wanted to hear, and the drinks were flowing. I feel like bowling is about beer and friends. Oh. And fun and health.
When I was little, my parents bowled in a league. They had their own balls. I remember the alley they used having a nursery where my little sister and I would play.
I don’t have my own ball, don’t play in a league, and haven’t yet found the sport I’m good at. (My brother promises me it will happen one day!)
Without further ado, our lane’s scores:
The other group didn’t do much better. Like I said, we were there to have fun! But check out my seventh frame!! That’s a strike, y’all! I was super excited and spun around to see everyone deep in conversations and NOT PAYING ATTENTION. Delayed high fives all around.
The second game I worsened my game by 10 pins. I had one point for at least the first two frames. I’ve bowled a 30-something in the past, tho, so I considered tonight a personal victory.
As we were leaving we remarked how much it felt like a youth group event or something. Definitely good clean, wholesome fun. And it won’t be the last time!! Next up, putt putt?