Got myself a whiiirlitzer....

Brad, my gay maid, gave me an organ. (Yes, i have a gay guy clean my house twice a month. Embarrassing. But also really, really great. And totally worth the money. I hate dusting and mopping.) By the way, if you met Brad-the-maid, you'd know why I can't mention him without using the qualifying phrase "gay maid." The first time I spoke with Brad he told me, in what can only be described as a flamboyant texas drawl, that he was "just passionate about cleaning" and that he would never look through my personal things as he "is just NOT into drama, honey." Anyway, my gay maid offered me an antique 1965 Wurlitzer organ in pristine condition for $300. It was his grandmother's. Since I don't have $300 to spend on an organ, I said no. Then he called me back and offered me the organ in exchange for five piano lessons. He wants the organ to have a good home. And he wants to learn how to play show tunes on the piano. Deal.






(foot pedals).

When I was in college, I had to take two semesters of a "second instrument." My piano teacher said to me, "Oh, just take organ and harpsichord. Easy A's." He didn't want me to get distracted by learning some silly instrument like guitar or violin or clarinet. Just get an easy A on a keyboard instrument and get back to practicing piano. And so I signed up for organ. The glitch in the plan was that my organ professor turned out to be the organ nazi and organ lessons proved to be a rather intense challenge. Really, it was those goddamn foot pedals that got me down. Anyway, I managed to learn Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor and a few foot scales. But, I was miserable. I hated it. The organ nazi was not impressed with my bullshit practice. She gave me a B for the semester. She totally missed the, "this is an easy A" memo. She ruined my perfect 4.0 in college. That one, stupid, stupid, organ lesson kept me from a perfect 4.0. (I know, I know, over-achiever, dork, blah, blah...). But, I'll never forgive her or her stupid fucking foot scales.

All this college organ lesson trauma left a bad taste in my mouth and I used to hate the organ. On the flip side, I've always been fascinated by its sound. There is really nothing like an organ. No other instrument has its capability for range in sound; it is at once grand, intense, intimate, powerful, and technically precise and complex. My relationship with the organ is a love/hate relationship.

Right now, all I got for the organ is love. In fact, I love my new old organ so bad that I've completely forgotten about the organ nazi and my college GPA.

Also, I can still play Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor. So next time my obnoxious upstairs neighbors decide to vacuum at 3:00a.m., or drop huge loud heavy things, or have loud sex, they will be subjected to my B-grade organ skills and my Wurlitzer organ's swell pedal! A real life Midnight Organ Fight...