I grew up playing the piano and loved it. Everyone in my family plays, and one of the great regrets of my adult life is that I stopped and have lost touch with whatever talent I had, once upon a time. Playing well is something I respect. My sister in particular is a talanted composer, but I have to give the title to my Dad. He is an incredible pianist and self-taught, plays by ear, but it was a special treat when he would play Moon River and hit wrong notes. My siblings and I would gather around to hear a beautiful tune, then dive off into giggling fits as he deliberately injected twanging errors into the song.
I’m not sure I can do justice to the way you would sit and listen to him play, and the anticipation of the wrong notes coming. I was reminded of the experience today when a friend posted a link to a brilliant poetic performance:
Sometimes, it takes more talent to do something wrong than to do it right. I wish I had details to relate on who this is, the venue, etc. I’m awed by this guy’s ability to remember all the wrong words in his sentences, and the way he injects entendres into everything he says. Bravo.