Pink Piano – Authur Kok

Pink Piano
By Authur Kok

At Woodleigh CC, on the second floor, you will spot a pink piano. There is no cordon around it, so it stands, I suspect, as an open invitation. Have a go: if you are daring, try to master me; if you are a diva, sing an aria along with me.

I wonder if there have been any takers though. Buffed to high gloss, there didn't seem to be a fingerprint anywhere. Maybe it is a prank - perhaps someone saw fit to place a dummy right along a thoroughfare. Even if the fallboard is not locked, the bowels might have been gutted of its strings. Bang away! All you'll hear is the dull thud of vanity.

Maybe this piano is seemingly two-faced because of my daughter's ambivalence with the instrument. She's a quick study, so simple tunes are a snap. The piano is her wand, and with it, she can will anything into existence. That is except for the harder melodies. These stump her. How she rages at the keys and the pedals when they do! Prop you up or put you down, both promised by that polished ebony Yamaha upright.

We're not too different, she and I. For more times than I care to remember, I'd seized on something that I thought would make me shine, only to have it show me up. Else, and this is worse, I became so wedded to a crutch that I burned out. The instrument played the performer.

In this latter half of my life, I wonder if I should do as many have done. Yes, I see the pink piano, but maybe it is wiser to just walk on by.