I don’t remember much of my childhood outside of memories
that look curiously like the pictures in our family photo albums. But I recall
sitting in the Cairo
airport and seeing a piano on a slightly raised and roped-off platform. The
bench was tilted away as if someone was going to sit down at any moment. Except
that no-one was going to sit down because you weren’t allowed to play; it was
only for decoration.
That’s what I want to be, guys – an airport pianist. I don’t
mean the guy the airport pays to play long-winded classical pieces; that guy’s
a hack. I mean the casual traveler who gets a little inspiration on his way to
a Cinnabon to tickle the ivories and loosen his vocal chords on the ditty he
learned when he was nine. I want to be that piece of heaven or hell, probably
hell, that rings in your head as you take off your shoes and power thrust at
the agents of the state running the metal detectors.
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| This is the first thing that came up in Google. |
Part of the appeal is the mystery of it all. Strangers are
only going to know two things about you – what you’re wearing and what you’re
playing. If you’re traveling right, you should be taking the opportunity to
wear something edgy that you don’t feel comfortable wearing on the street. I
usually pull out the sub-6" inseam shorts and a shirt that shows a little
chest. I gotta be me!
But what do you play? Well, there’s a dynamic I haven’t been able to define.
It’s where you intentionally create zones of accessibility and exclusivity with
a reference. For example: Halloween costumes. The goal of a Halloween costume
is to incorporate a pop culture reference that’s obscure enough that most
people won’t get it, catchy enough so the “outsiders” still think it’s
interesting, and treasured enough that the “insiders” will be moved. You want
to carry that same dynamic into your song selection.
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| Genius, looking surprisingly stupid. |
With that, I’ve settled on early '70s John Cale, with his buddy Lou Reed
as a back-up. Simple piano parts, baritone range, easy hooky tunes that never
caught on because they’re weird, and just familiar enough that if someone knows
it they’ll sing along. My mom once commented that John Cale sounded nice.
Perfect. Here’s my set list:
Is it weird having two Reed anthems to cap it off? Maybe, but
I've gotta finish strong, just in case “Big White Cloud” doesn’t work. But it
will work, because everyone will think it’s a Dylan song they just missed when
they were ignoring his Nashville
era.
There are a couple complications. I only have sheet music for
the Transformer and Paris
1919 songs. That’s not a big deal, because I can just find some guitar
chords and riff them on piano. And I’m not very good at the piano. Correction –
I’m not very conventional at the
piano. I’ve only made it through the first of three adult beginner piano books.
I’ve got heart, so that probably counts for thirty pages or so. I don’t think
this is a very big deal either.
I don't know how to end this post, so I'm just going to
riff off the airport thing and list the three best airplane neighbors I've ever
had: a Colorado State professor that hosted African immigrants at her house,
a mechanical engineer from Grand Rapids doing flood cleanup work, and a 5-year-old girl
from Jackson, MS visiting her aunt in Detroit (we made origami paper cranes
that pooped paper balls).
