(no subject)

At long last I've bought my son a piano. OK, it's an old spinnet with two sticky keys and some white paint on it, but hey, I'll worry about upgrading if he turns out to be the second coming of Vladimir Horowitz. This is something I've wanted to get for him for quite a while. See, we'd borrowed one from some neighbors a few years ago, but just when he started to get into it, they asked for it back. Now, however, we have one for good, rescued from a sad little house in western Kirkland. Brain food for the skinky boy. I think I'll play the Squeegee Song for him tonight.