Dorm residents at MIT dropped a piano from the roof of a building onto another piano last week.

OK, I’m not happy about this.

It’s a ‘tradition’ at the prestigious university, and frankly, one that should stop.  The tradition celebrates the last day students can drop classes and not have them appear on their transcripts.

I know, I know, I’m a total buzz kill.

But really folks, as a pianist – of sorts – this really ticks me off.

It’s a waste.

I have a piano. I saved for that piano.  And I love that piano.  And no, you can not have it to drop to its death from your overpriced roof.

In reality, I’ve had four pianos in my life time.  A really great Hammond UPright that I had to sell when I went into the Navy.  No room in the duffle bag.  A total clunker while I was in college in Tennessee; sold that when we moved, and Wurlitzer we have now.

I also had a MacPhail Baby Grand made in 1902, which I bought at an auction and sold the next week for four times what I paid for it.  It was a wedding gift to a lady from her husband.  Her children and grandchildren were fighting over the estate, and the judge decided to sell it all…hence, the piano became mine.

But, back to MIT.

The tradition started 30 years ago, in 1972.  I’m assuming it was some science experiment.  And people line UP at the bottom and make a dash to get souvenir pieces – keys, strings, stuff like that – from the destroyed musical instrument. the University doesn’t run the event, they are just there “to make sure nobody gets hurt.”

Though their approval is tacit, it’s approval nonetheless, and security aside, it’s no one, not nobody.  For the love of Liz, you’re MIT, you should know better.  Emily would be so UPset!

And, to top it off, there are people waiting in line to have their pianos dropped!!!

Frankly, it’s waste.  There are plenty of people out there without pianos, and would love to have an old clunker to give little Junior lessons.

And think of all those piano starved children in China!

Donate them to a school that will use them, not one that will destroy them!

So, next year, drop a drum stick or two.  Screw the whales, save the pianos!

…Lindsay Lohan playing Elizabeth Taylor, that is.

I would have preferred Anne Hathaway, but Lohan can act, when she’s sober and not in jail, and she’s very pretty, and with the wonders that Hollywood can do – I mean just look at Meryl – she WILL look like Taylor.

The Lifetime movie, called “Liz and Dick”, will cover the greatest Hollywood love affair of all time, that of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton.

I’ve mentioned them from time to time, you may have noticed.

When you think about it, the similarities between the two stars are there.

Both had addiction problems, both had romance problems, and both could act.

Of course, Elizabeth never went to jail…and hopefully, Lindsay can work her filming around her community service, court dates, and court ordered counselling.

I do think the title should be changed, Elizabeth Taylor hated the nickname Liz, and NO ONE called him Dick!

Also, Lohan is the right age for the Suddenly Last Summer Elizabeth, but she’s a tad young for the Richard Burton years…but then again…Hollywood magic.

And you all know I’ll watch it!

…a few of my Farmersville readers might remember an elderly woman named Hester Woodard.  Her husband, Bob, worked at the Ford Dealership for ever, they lived on the main drag in Farmersville, just a few doors UP from his brother, and my wife’s grandfather, Herb.

I’ve talked about Herb before.

When in Ohio, we always went to see Grandma and Grandpa, and we always went to see Uncle Bob and Aunt Hester.

They were pretty cool.  Never having any children of their own, they spoiled their nieces and nephews and greats as well.  She was an interesting woman with an oddity or two.  I never butter a piece of toast that I don’t think of her.  The butter had to go all the way to the edge.  No slopping of butter here, it was spread evenly to the edges, no bumps, no smears, very, very neat.

Aunt Hester kept a pretty house, full of pretty things, all of them very, very old.

One thing in particular was an old chair.

I loved that chair.

I wanted that chair.

And I used to tease Aunt Hester, telling her that I didn’t come to see her, I came to see the chair.

It’s a “gossip” chair from the mid 19th Century.  Called such, because it’s light, and has a hand grip in the back, so ladies could move it easily around a room and huddle together to gossip.

I suppose men didn’t gossip back then!

After Uncle Bob passed on, Aunt Hester was lonely in that big old house in Farmersville, and decided to sell out and move in with a relative.

She hated to break UP her home, leave a place she’d lived since the 1930s, and leave all her memories behind.  But, frail and old, and unable to cope for herself, she was wise enough to know when it was time.

So, she had a sale.   Now, we don’t do sales in Georgia like they do in Ohio.  An auctioneer comes out and just about every thing there goes on the block.

I arrived armed with cash and ready to bid, started bidding on the chair as soon as it came UP.

There was an antique dealer sitting next to me bidding on the chair as well.

Evil stare, ugly glances, scowls…I tried it all.

Nothing seemed to be working, until my brother said, “I don’t know what that lady is doing, but we all know he’s not leaving here without that chair!”

And she stopped.

So, every day when I wake UP, I see the chair, and I think of Aunt Hester.

It’s just one thing that keeps family alive, long after their gone.

Call me crazy if you like.  I like to think of myself as one person who keeps memories alive every day.  And yes, the Teddy Bear is nearly 60 years old, and it’s mine.

First of all, my apologies to John Steinbeck.

It’s a classic novel, and I should be ashamed to steal the name for this post, but oh well, that’s just me!

But, of late, I’ve heard some rustling in my Tupperware cabinet, and seen evidence of a mouse under my sink.

This just will not do.

Neither my cabinets nor my Tupperware are mouse potties, and alas, the rat must die!

Oh, I know they are cute and all, and we love a few of them…

…there’s Mickey…

…and there’s Mighty Mouse…whom, frankly is one of my heroes…

…and I’ve posted about him before.

And there’s that cute rat, Ratatouille,  from the movie of the same name…

…it’s a wonderful movie, very cute, you just fall in love with the little critter, and feel like sending a donation to PETA…

…but in reality, mice are dirty, ugly, nasty little buggers, they multiply like The Duggars bunnies, and they are NOT welcome at my place!

So, the mouse, just like Earl, had to die.

Oh, this was a smart little critter.

He ate the cheese off the sticky trap I set.

He ate the cracker off the sticky trap I set.

He got the bait out of the $9.00 box thingy that has a door that closes, and he left ‘graffiti’ in his wake…yes, it was not pretty.

And he had to go.

So, after cleaning out the Tupperware cabinet, and washing 34 years worth of Tupperware – the big stuff by hand, and six dishwasher loads – I scrubbed the floor of the cabinet, threw away a few Avocado Green and Harvest Gold pieces, and carpeted the floor with old timey snap traps, sticky traps that would hold a small dog, and the box with the door that slams shut.

Well, this morning when I went to throw my coffee grounds in the trash can under the sink, there he was, all bugged eyed and squished…and I think he was giving me the finger!  You may think me in-humane and cruel, but that little critter could be wearing lipstick and eye-liner in a Lancome Lab for all I care.  Anywhere but here!

When it comes to mice and men, men win!