2150 AD
The last musical Master I had was Myrna von Nimitz. The closest description of that relation was that I was Pip, in Great Expectations, and she was this magical, wealthy, Greek Goddess. She was well known and respected in the community. We met at a community theatre, where she conducted the orchestra and chorus. I, a lowly clown in real life and character, in 1984, had a temporary bout of bravery and asked her if she would take me on as a student. He first words were no. She wasn’t teaching. Then she frowned. She seriously stared into my soul and sorted me.
She asked me to play something. I gave her a Mozart, Sonata in C, played in the key of G, awful fingering that would make someone imagine early onset of arthritis, or a hearing person dramatically making fun of sign language.
“Are you messing with me?” I didn’t understand and told her, embarrassed, I just heard it in the background of a cartoon, Sylvester chasing Tweety. I asked if she could direct me to sheet music.
She wrote down her address, handed it to me. “I will expect you every Saturday at noon. Be prepared for two hours of education per session.”
She had one other student. Missy. Again, I felt like Pip. She played us off each other. Music lessons was also art lessons. We were given history…
