PLINCKSTER

Previous:  What I Am Blogging     Next:  About That Jump Ahead in the Lessons Books My three older sisters all began piano in their turns from an elderly teacher in our village named Lucille Kent. Evelyn was three years older than me, Kathy six years, Carol eight. They all progressed to at least the "elementary" level, to easy pieces by Schumann, Burgmüller, Anna Magdalena Notebook selections, and as far as Clementi Sonatinas. Their method books were the Thompson and Schaum series common at the time and still in use today. Our paternal grandmother lived nearby, had an upright piano and even into her eighties played a few favorites, such as "Star of the East." I showed an early interest in piano and picked out melodies at three years old. I didn't take lessons right then, though. Mom went out on a limb: although she never studied piano, and wasn't even an avid listener to music, she taught herself how to read it so that she could teach me how. That is wha...

Now that the memorials have come and gone, this blog begins an account of my musical upbringing. Family life is part of it, of course, but not principally that, and not straight autobiography either. I'm writing for my own diversion, as well as to organize my memories and thoughts. If it happens to earn the interest of others, so much the better. An aspect or two of my learning curve still seem a bit strange, and that will be part of the story. I should probably say, even if no one is closely following this blog's progress, that I am editing heavily as I go. Many things have been and will continue to be added to, subtracted from and rewritten on posts already uploaded. Previous: Farewell     Next: First Lessons

Previous:  Eulogy for Ralph and Dorothea See      Next:  What I Am Blogging Dad’s memorial service was at Houston National Cemetery. As a WWII veteran (83rd “Seabees” Battalion in Trinidad) he received a military flag ceremony. After a brief scripted ceremonial eulogy by the caller the flag was ritually unfolded, passed over the remains, refolded and given to a next of kin — in this case my sister Kathy. Then the honor guard in a neat row of six rifle bearers plus a trumpeter shot blanks on the caller’s command. The service continued with my eulogy for Dad, and closed with a beautiful prayer by my step-niece (and now a candidate for the 12th Texas Congressional district) Vanessa Adia. Dad's and Mom's ashes are both interred in a columbarium at the cemetery. In attendance were Kathy and her husband Mark, their children and grandchildren, Lynn and I, and our cousin Harold See Jr. who had flown in from Nashville. Mom’s service in January had been dismaying...

A Eulogy for my parents Ralph See (1/16/1922-6/16/2017) and Dorothea See (11/9/1922-12/16/2016) Given at the memorial service for Ralph See on July 5, 2017, Houston National Cemetery Something I still find it hard to get over about Dad, that makes him still a kind of hero in my mind, is that he could practically build his own house by himself. He got quite a lot of practice on our four-bedroom house in Saugatuck [MI], renovating almost all the rooms one by one, and then adding a back room — what was to be his TV repair shop — with the help of a local builder. But that was just a warm-up. Later, in his retirement, he added to their cabin in the Smokey mountains, nearly doubling its size. He did hire contractors for the foundation and other things that required licenses, but still did the bulk of the work himself. Framing, drywall, siding, panelling, roofing, painting, basic plumbing and electricity, he did all that. He’d also get under the car, change the oil, make other car repairs...