For as long as I can remember, my Dad wanted to play the accordian. It was the first present I bought for him when I got my first job with CBC Radio. I remember the day I purchased it…marched right into Remenyi’s on Bloor Street West and told them I wanted the second hand Milano in the window. I knew nothing about accordians nor do I remember asking much about this particular one. It was black and shiny and Italian and I took them on their word when they said it was a good instrument in good working order.
Over the years, my Dad fiddled with it, although I can’t say he ever mastered it. This summer, when I went to visit him, I dug out that accordian (now gathering dust in my brother’s basement) and decided to bring it home with me. It’s sat beside my piano until this past week-end, when I was inspired to pull it out.
I have no way of knowing if it still works OK…I used to share a teaching space with a piano teacher who plays accordian, so I think I’ll get her t0 check it out. Who knows – if all goes well I may be oom-pa-pa-ing in time for next year’s Octoberfest!