No, not Puck. Wolfgang Amadeus Marshmallow. If you've followed this blog for any length of time you've read about him. The pianist. The prodigy (stop giggling, please, I have a headache). Really, he's good. He can do Rachmaninov or Beethoven like no other blond haired, blue eyed white male I've ever seen. And I've seen one of them.
But I question the value of driving an hour and a half every week, to another state, in order to take lessons from a big time piano teacher. An I supposed to be impressed because I have to drive far? Is that what makes someone an expert; that he isn't in your town? What do the people who live in his neighborhood think of him? I'll bet that to them he's just the guy that gives lessons out of his house and who doesn't remember to zip up his pants or comb his hair.
I want an expert in my own town. I mean, we've already got plenty of guys in my town who don't remember to zip up their pants. Well, technically, those guys aren't exactly in my town so much as in prison right now. But you know what I mean. We have plenty of goofballs where I live. Can't just one of them teach piano to kids who are going to be concert pianists, or who might at least go to work at Howl at The Moon?
I don't know. It seems to me the distribution of genius art and music types is just all wrong. I thought you ought to know.
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