Piano Man

 

No workout music this morning; continued reading “The Happiness Project” instead.

This morning’s first car tune was Jim Croce’s “You Don’t Mess Around with Jim.”

Penned in 1972, I was only 4 years old, and living in Scottsdale, Arizona, driving around in the back of my mom’s brown Ford Pinto.

So, in a previous post, I mentioned my dad and I lived in State College together when I was in college at Penn State. He had his own friends and his own life, and like a normal roommate, he went out and did his own thing.

He and his friends used to go to this restaurant/lounge in downtown State College on Pugh Street called Joey Zs, which opened in 1985 and closed down in 1990. He and his friends used to hang out and listen to this local entertainer, Tommy Wareham, perform and sing on his piano and guitar. At 2:30 in the morning, he’d come rolling in after too much tequila, and tell me what fun they had listening to and singing along with Tommy. As I wasn’t 21, I didn’t get to go out and hang out with him.

tommy wareham playing guitar at the ale house

Fast forward to current times, and Tommy Wareham, my dad, and I are still around town. Tommy’s still playing his piano and singing songs, only now he hangs out at the American Ale House and Grill. My dad never wants to go out and see him, which makes me sad. But, I’m 21 and can go do adult things like listen to music at a lounge.

From a young age, I was immersed in music, whether it was listening to it in the backseat of my mother’s Pinto, having my own record player, or going out to restaurants to listen to bands with my parents. I love music. And so when I get a chance  (usually when my husband goes out of town because he hates going to the Ale House–and music, apparently), I go to the Ale House to listen to Tommy. And I watch the crowd (that in itself is enough to fill up pages and pages of blog).

This is one of the songs that he plays. I never know all the words, but we all sit in the lounge around the piano tapping our toes, grinning like kids in a candy store, jigging a jig, and most especially singing really loud and singing off key.

 

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