Storage Unit 88

I was late paying Storage Unit 88 rent this month. First time in a while.

That means an extra 20 bucks tagged on to what I owe. I don’t like it but I have nowhere else to keep my stuff.

No where else to keep the old, Auto-Piano upright passed on to me by my mother. I taught myself how to play music on that instrument.

Over 50 years ago, the Old Man bought it from a barroom buddy going through a divorce. I still remember Dad and his crew of drunken volunteers banging it up 3 steps and rolling it into the living room.

I skipped school the next day just to sit in front of the instrument. I don’t think I played a note on the keyboard. I just sat there, in a trance, thanking God for giving me such a gift.

The first song I taught myself to play was the Fats Domino version of “Blueberry Hill.” I had the 45 and my folks had a small, portable record player.

When I was alone and able to practice, I’d play the record and try to copy what I heard. I broke the tune down, note by note, measure by measure.

It was slow going.

In fact, I don’t know how long it took me to learn the entire song. Maybe a month, maybe two, probably longer but, eventually, I learned to play and sing that classic New Orleans tune in the classic New Orleans R&B style made famous by the Fat Man himself.

When I lost my house, my sister let me put the upright in her storage space.

Five years later, I came into a little cash and was able to rent unit #88. A couple of months after that, “Otto” Piano moved in.

Now, I can see and play it every day.

Unless, of course, I’m past due on the rent.