Memories of Bill Grogen's Goat

Do you know Bill Grogen's Goat? If you do, then you must have been a child who took piano lessons.

Really. If one wants to know if someone took piano lessons, or not, all one must do is begin humming "Bill Grogen's Goat".

If my memory serves me correctly (let it be noted that i am presently running a fever) Bill Grogen's Goat was in the John Thompson series of piano books.

I was a reluctant piano student.

Piano playing was what we did in my family.

My sisters were good at it, as older sisters tend to be.

All of the non-summer Saturday mornings of my childhood were spent at piano lessons.

First, my dad made me PAY for these lessons that I didn't want to take by dusting all the chairs in our church's auditorium, filling visitor cards and offering envelopes, properly arranging hymnbooks and picking trash from the hymnbook racks - a job I learned to do with my toes to avoid life-threatening illnesses. (it might be interesting to note here that my mother was doing this job when she went into labor with me. okay. so it might not be interesting. whatever.)

Then, in all sorts of weather I walked the blocks to my piano teacher's house.

Three perky blond sisters took lessons before us, which meant that if they had arrived late, I sometimes had to listen to them AND my sisters before it was my turn to humiliate myself.

Thankfully, my piano teacher had a wonderful supply of great children's literature to occupy me while I waited my turn. He had A LOT of "Curious George" books, and I developed a fondness for the man in the yellow hat.

Having been raised in a dispensationalist family, I prayed often for the rapture to occur before I had to do something I thought distasteful - like piano lessons.

Although sometimes the songs were great. Like Bill Grogen's Goat. And from that, I grew to love Beethoven, especially Fur Elise which is now best know as an obnoxious ring tone.

What I admired most about my piano teacher was how he wrote right on the lesson book. Over the top of the comments he had made to each of my sisters he wrote what he thought of my attempt. I often wondered if I slipped him more money if he would write something profound. Something like this even - "Whatsyourname - not bad. Not good, but not bad!" Being the third daughter, no one EVER got my name right.

So, those were my Saturday mornings.

They haven't changed all that much. I still go every Saturday morning to dust the chairs at church. The chairs have changed. The new ones collect even more dust and the hymnals get wedged in tightly. I no longer need to extract trash with my toes. Sometimes I go early just to play the piano. Now I play mostly Lynne DeShizo or Matt Redman. Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" when I am seriously depressed.

I'll feel a bit melancholy when I engage in my Saturday morning routine, as last week my piano teacher died unexpectedly of a heart attack.

Do YOU know Bill Grogen's Goat? Then go thank your piano teacher, before it's too late.