Three o’clock. Saturday afternoon. Piano recital. On my calendar. In ink.

After days and hours of writing, copy-editing and proofreading, the couch felt good. But the piano recital called me from my comfort.

A trumpet player opened the show with “Holy, Holy, Holy.” The teacher told the audience: “Piano is a stepping stone to other instruments.”

Mercifully, the list of performers was short — just 15 — compared to past recital experiences.My interest was in number 12.

The countdown began. Performers varied widely in age and skill. Selections ranged from “Old MacDonald” and “Hot Dog Stand” to “Midnight Rhapsody” and “Waltz in A Flat Major.”

We smiled and applauded each effort — and concealed most yawns. Finally, the 12th performer gave her excellent rendering of Elaine Lebar’s “Slavic Dance” The end was near.

Life is like a piano recital: part endurance, part joy.

But both are worth attending.

Now back to couch before the next proof arrives.

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