A Classical Teenage Rebellion

(Not about books or photography, today)

In what may have started as teenage rebellion, my youngest boy (I’ll call him “P” for purposes of this blog) has become a classical piano player. If that’s not your cup of tea, this is probably a good time to stop reading.

Playing the organ

I’ll clarify for those that don’t know P: classical music is a hobby for him, not his career. P started playing when he was knee-high to me. He’s no longer knee-high to me by a long shot, and the pieces he plays are complex. He occasionally plays jazz too. That, however, is just a classical music addict’s way of demonstrating that he could give up classical music if he wanted to, only …

Well, you know the rest of that phrase.

Rebellion, of course, is only effective if you can get the parent to mutter, “In my day, a bit of headbanging, heavy metal was what we considered to be real music.” I may have forgotten to mutter that, or I may even have given the appearance of enjoying P’s classical playing. The inevitable rebellion escalation came last year.

“I want to try the organ.”

“Typical teenager”, I said to myself, but quietly. Aloud, I kept to the high road. I merely said, “No monkeys in the house. I have very bad experience with monkeys.”

Continue reading “A Classical Teenage Rebellion”