He was the old man at the piano. Musicians gathered around him on the stage at S. Arch Thompson Auditorium. Playing the classical pop stuff. I was in tenth grade. But I liked music.
Every kind, pretty much.
It had to have been one of the first legitimate concerts I had ever attended. I mean, he was an out-of-town guy. Had to have been, with a name like Peter Nero. Like I said – he was the old guy at the piano. I had seen my cousin Bill and his band at the high school prom, and he was older. But not old, older.
And what a difference a little perspective makes.
A song just played in the shop, and it was credited as being a Christmas-medley by Peter Nero. Hey! I thought, “I remember that guy.” And I wondered how long ago he had died. Googled him.
Turns out, he hasn’t.
Another thing. I guess he really wasn’t as old as I thought, way back then. I figure he was about the same age as my boss Marshall, who ran a corner grocery in McAlester – probably in his early-thirties. Back then, I figured Marshall for an old man too.
All these years later, I discover that I was surrounded by a bunch of young whippersnappers, and I just didn’t know it. Peter Nero (and Nero is his real name, just spelled a little different than his birth certificate. It’s the first name that he changed…), well – he is eighty years old as of last May and probably still pounding away at the piano keys.
Mr. Nero attended the Juilliard School of Music and later won a Grammy and has all kinds of credits to his name. I have a hard time imagining him playing our little school auditorium, and I could be confused about the pianist, but I distinctly remember Craig’s mother asking us what we thought of it as she drove us home. (We were still pedestrian age high-schoolers.)
Craig was non-committal, but I just blurted out that I liked it. It was out of my mouth before I could be non-committal cool, too. Heck. I did like it.
The shop was empty when the medley began, so I was able to belt out, in various accents, the various holiday tunes all mashed into one. Loud and proud.
It’s helpful, I think. Remembering people in a new light. Humbling too – in a way.
Gives me a better idea of what my younger reader-customers must think when they plop their books on the checkout counter in front of that ancient old man.
Geezer-up!
We’re still raising the roof in song, Peter and I, and there are music books on the shelf ready for a lyrical journey, so…
Come visit!
McHuston
Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!