Day Eighty: The Super Acrosonic

In my parents' living room sits a piano that has been a part of our family longer than I have. Some 45 years ago my parents acquired this Baldwin Acrosonic from Frank's family. Frank was an Edgewood High School (Madison, WI) classmate with both my mom and dad, and after he graduated and moved away from home, the Acrosonic was lonely for attention.

Some 45 years later, Frank is now Fr. Frank O'Meara, a noted scholar and Catholic priest, and the old spinet piano has seen more than its fair share of attention, somehow surviving a family of five kids (and one accordion-playing dad) banging away at its ivory keys with little mercy.

This Acrosonic has been the source of torture for children ("I have to practice piano for thirty minutes?"), the source of torture for adults ("We have to listen to him practice piano for thirty minutes?!"), the centerpiece for neighborhood Christmas carol sing-alongs (torture for the whole block?), and the premium spot for hiding Easter egg baskets.

For ten years my mom and I sat at this Acrosonic for lessons and practice.

I used to think of playing this Acrosonic a chore. Now I consider it a wonderful gift. So thank you Mom and Dad for the lessons, for "making" me torture my siblings, friends, and neighbors (and you) with practice, and for making sure I stuck with the piano long enough to be able to use it and appreciate it like I do today.