I went to a post-wedding reception today with Dave and his parents. The party was at this gorgeous home that had a great view of LA on a mountain in Glendale. Dave and I looked at the house and said to each other, 'We want a house like this!' It was on the corner of the street and had big bay windows all along two corners of the house, so you could see the chandelier inside. There were Greek columns inside with marble flooring, and there is a pool on the second floor. Yes. A house like that will be ours. After we pay off the 30 zillion dollars that Dave has in loans.

I've never been to a party like this before. It was like going to your average Filipino house party with all the aunts gossiping and laughing in one room and all the uncles watching some sort of sport in another with a spattering of little kids running around here and there. The kitchen looked to have the typical spread of foods. But on closer inspection, I realized it wasn't Filipino food. It was Armenian food. And there were waiters going around, bringing food to people. Oh, and did I mention there was an open bar? It was pretty bizarre. Never been to Filipino party that was catered like that, much less with Armenian food. Which was REALLY REALLY REALLY good, by the way. I ate so much I was sick.

On a side note: The uncles were hilarious. They were watching the boxing bout between Mexican boxing superstar Marco Antonio Barrera and teeny weeny Manny Pacquiao, a Filipino. And Barrera got his ass whooped. His coach had to throw in the towel. Must suck to get beat by a kid nicknamed 'Pac-Man'. Anyway, the uncles were going CRAZY! It was hilarious to hear them hooting and hollering and so proud of their countryman. Afterwards, the commentators interviewed him, and they were asking their questions of a Filipino interpreter. But then Pacquiano answered in English. Then it became obvious that Pacquiano understood and could speak English. But they still asked questions to the interpreter. Then afterwards, they said, 'Uh, maybe we didn't need the interpreter!'

Manny Pacquiao (R), from Cabangal, Phillipines celebrates after he defeated Mexican Marcos Barreras by a TKO in the 11th round of their 12-round world featherweight bout in San Antonio, November 15, 2003. REUTERS/Joe Mitchell

Well, that was a big side note. Anyway...

So we're sitting there and I'm stuffing my face with lamb and chicken, when this little girl sits at the piano, and there are a couple people standing around her. She looks really bothered, and the adults around her are nudging her. I know what's coming. Dave whispers to me, 'That's my cousin. She's a child prodigy at piano. She's going to be going to Julliard.'

Well, well. She may be a child prodigy, I thought to myself, but that doesn't mean that she likes having to play at family parties. When I was a kid, my parents put me through 11 years of piano lessons. Which included many years of practice, many slaps on the wrist with a ruler, and tons of piano recitals where I sat nervously, knowing that there was NO way I was going to get through my song without a mistake. And the worst part for me was having to play the piano when guests came over. I hated it. I would fight so badly with my mom when she was make me do it. I didn't like being shown off like a prize. Don't take me wrong. I loved to play the piano, it was one of my favorite things to do, but I loved to play for myself.

So I looked with pity on this girl, I wanted to whisper to her, 'I know how you feel, it's just a phase.' And then she started playing, and I sat there in awe. It was so beautiful, not just the music she was playing but the way her fingers danced effortlessly over the keys. The piece she chose was pretty difficult, but she played it easily. And I could tell that although she was so distressed to play in front of the group, when she was playing she was playing for herself and the clearly enjoyed the music. It was wonderful to see. So in a way, I was a little selfish in enjoying and taking in every moment that she played on the piano, because I knew that she didn't want to be there. But in having this gift, for the rest of her life people are going to be asking her to play, so I guess that she has to get used to it.

Um, I don't know where I was going with this....so I'll just stop it here. Oh, and to say that I will never ever make my kids play piano unless they want to, and if they do, they never have to play at a family party.

Posted by Yano at November 16, 2003 06:35 PM

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