A few weeks ago, I apparently agreed to play the organ for our church services. I'm not sure exactly how this happened, really. The only reason I can think of for consenting to such a thing probably has a lot to do with the fact that at the time I was asked I was recovering from surgery and rather heavily sedated. These people are sneaky.
Most perplexing is the fact that I don't, technically speaking, even know how to play the organ. There are several reasons for this, not the least of which is that playing the organ involves using the feet and frankly, just being able to walk without tripping over my own feet? Nothing short of a miracle, my friends.
I've never really understood why people assume that the ability to play the piano equals the ability to play the organ. To me it's sort of like saying, "Oh, you play soccer? Excellent! I'll bet you'll be SUPER at water ballet!"
Once I sobered up and realized what I'd agreed to do, I naturally tried to get out of it. To my great dismay, however, I'm finding it difficult to get anyone to take "Um, actually no" for an answer. It is in many ways similar to finding myself somehow affilitated with the Mafia. Except, presumably in the Mafia I could hope to lose a finger or two, thus having a legitimate excuse to bail.
And so, today I decided to give it a go. I met a very nice lady at the church who proceeded to explain the basics of the organ. It was an excellent presentation and one I feel certain would have been helpful to anyone who had the ability to learn, which sadly, does not include me.
"These are the swells, and down here? The great."
"I see. And what about the "nifties"? Would they be somewhere over here next to "groovy?"
The very nice lady stared at me blankly. "No."
"Right. Okay, moving on then. "
I tried to smile enthusiastically while she pointed out the foot pedals but all I could think of was the time years ago when a particular organist who suffered from extreme lack of height, reached for one of the far pedals, slipped right off the bench and landed in a heap on the pedals causing a spectaular scene as she startled the bishop so badly he actually woke up.
Also? I may get a lot of flack for this, but I really hate organ music. Really hate it. Hate it so much that I've asked Hubs to promise that at my funeral he'll have bagpipers play since that seems so much more cheerful to me.
Yesterday Hubs, completely misunderstanding that I didn't want him to solve the problem, I just wanted him to listen while I groused about the injustice of life, offered several ways to get me excused from this assignment. I just kept shooting down his suggestions until he finally hit on one that I think will do the trick.
I'm supposed to be on the bench ready to play in two weeks. And I plan to be ready. Now, if you'll excuse me, I just have to go practice the footwork for "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."