Thursday, May 17, 2012
19th February 2012
Among the things my mother wanted me to be able to do is play musical instruments. Why she chose the accordion for the first of these instruments is a question only she could answer. I was never any good at playing, mind, but if we did well the teacher would give us a chocolate. This was normally a small candy bar.
I do believe the teacher’s name was Polombo as he said “people mistake it for Colombo.” He was a large man who looked like a dark Italian, but it could be that the passing years have dulled my memory.
I still have my purl white accordion and I think the key where we put our finger is still marked with a sticker. I do believe Paul said he would kill me if I ever played the thing again. Whereas I grant he was not joking I have no desire to learn the instrument.
Then, as you know, my mother died and Alan told me that he felt that I didn’t have time to play the accordion any longer. Just as he told me I didn’t have time for Boy Scouts or therapy for my learning disability. The man entrusted with my care after my mother’s death couldn’t be bothered with the needs of his fair haired boy.
The benefit of learning an instrument was so lost to me and I see little reason to return to the practice now as time is short for me. In the way of things it is always good to know music and always good to know an instrument that someone may want to hear. The accordion was a bad choice for this, but understand that my mother wanted it to be the first of many that I would learn.
Stay safe, little sister
Richard Leland Neal