Out of My Mind

I recently went on a cruise and since the weather was terrible, my husband and I went to just about every event that was happening on ship that didn’t involve putting on sneakers, drinking alcohol or gambling. The highlight was a concert by Michael Klinkenberg, a violinist who is personable, interesting and immensely talented.

At one point during the concert he said he would give a free CD to anyone who came up and played a song by memory on the piano. I play the piano and immediately my husband told me I should go up. I was honestly motivated by the free CD but am not good at performing without practicing so I remained in my seat.

The first girl up was young and played a one-handed song of three repeating notes but Michael joined in on his violin and made it a duet, so it sounded amazing. Then an older woman went up and played another one-handed song. My confidence began growing. I can play better than that, I thought and what an opportunity to play a duet with such a talented violinist.  So in a moment of completely forgetting that I hadn’t actually played the piano in weeks and usually when I do, I have a baby on my lap and a two-year-old crawling around on me, I got up and went to get in line. Two other men played before me (one played Chopsticks) and that’s when Michael looked at me and said he didn’t usually have a line and asked the stage manager if there was time for me to play. I immediately felt awkward but he invited me up on stage and I sat down to play Chopin’s Waltz in D Major, also known at the Minute Waltz.

The lights were hot and my hands were visibly shaking but I put my fingers on the keyboard to begin playing. What followed was a pretty out-of-mind experience. All I knew was that I was not playing the right notes, there was no pedal on this keyboard, and that something just felt off. I finally just stopped and got off of the stage, completely humiliated, even though he told me take a bow and people were politely clapping.

The concert went on and was wonderful and afterwards Michael was in the lobby area signing CDs. When I went up to get my free CD and to have him sign it he looked at me and said, “I bet you are going to go home and practice Fur Elise.” I looked at him blankly and then realized I should say something and so mumbled that my kids usually made it hard for me to practice but as I walked away it all clicked. I am not sure how my brain worked, or didn’t work, in that moment on stage but for some reason I started playing a completely different song than I had intended, and in fact one that I don’t actually know. I meant to play Chopin and Beethoven came out instead; a Beethoven piece I haven’t played since I was 10 or 11 years old whereas I play the Chopin piece almost every time I sit down at a piano.

What is crazy to me is that I didn’t even recognize while I was playing that I was not playing the Minute Waltz, nor would I have ever known had he not said something to me. I was so frustrated with myself for completely choking when given a rare opportunity and completely misrepresenting myself. I was on the lookout for Michael the rest of the cruise, hoping I could have a chance to explain that while I totally panicked I am actually a decent player.

I was bothered for days afterwards by the whole situation but am writing this in hopes that I can now let go of the frustration of complete failure in a moment when I should have done better.  I plan to make more time to keep up skills I have already learned and hope that if ever given an opportunity like that again, having failed once, I will be better prepared at least not blow it.  While part of me wishes I had just stayed in my seat, now at least I won’t be disillusioned with the idea that had I gotten up there I would have rocked it and there is something humbling and motivating by that reality. A little bravery, panic and humiliation added to failure and people I hope to never see again, plus a free CD, equals some worthwhile life experience.

P.S. You are not going to believe this. As I was writing this I thought, hey, I should look him up and post his picture on here only when I searched Michael Klinkenberg, nothing comes up. A few minutes of searching and I finally find him. His name is David. David Klinkenberg. For weeks I’ve been calling him Michael Klinkenberg. Something about this whole experience seriously addled my brain!

David Klinkenberg with Jim Brickman