Ten years

Ten years ago today, I bought my first keyboard. It was kind of a big deal.

I'd been toying with the idea for some time. While I already had a good upright piano to practice on, I wanted something a little more fun. A little more portable. I had this crazy notion that maybe one day I'd be in a band, and I couldn't do that with an instrument that didn't fit in a carrying case.

My cautious, prudent side was skeptical. Keyboards cost a lot of money. Yes, I could buy one and still make rent, but what if I lost my job somewhere down the line? Then that keyboard-sized hole in my savings might really mean something.

Eventually my cautious, prudent side was overruled. I decided to take the plunge.

And so, on Saturday, August 18, 2001, I went to Rainbow Guitars and tried out all the decent choices. It quickly came down to two different Rolands. One cost $1,600. The other cost $1,100. I didn't care so much about the extra voices the more expensive one offered—all I really needed was one good piano voice. But I did like its best piano voices just a little bit better.

I kept switching from one Roland to the other, trying to figure out how much I cared. Finally, I settled on the RD700, the more expensive of the two. I'd be living with the sound quality for a long time. If I was going to do this, I should do it right.

Then I stalled. Even though I'd been contemplating this for weeks, simply plunking down $1,600 (plus $400 for amp, keyboard stand, and bench) after spending less than an hour in the store seemed so impulsive. My cautious, prudent side warned me that I'd be second-guessing myself later if it felt like an impulse buy.

So I made a deal with Cautious and Prudent. I'd come back in a week, after giving the decision some time to settle, and I'd buy everything then.

Done and done. A week later, August 25, 2001, I was the proud owner of a really decent professional keyboard.

Now, on the tenth anniversary of that day, I think back to the logic that finally made me OK with the idea.

If I do this now and lose my job later, I'm not going to regret the lost savings. I'm going to be happy that I got my hands on a keyboard when I had the chance.

Today I'm a freelancer. Financial stability is elusive. Some weeks are better than others.

I don't regret the lost savings. I'm glad I got my hands on that keyboard when I had the chance.

Happy anniversary.

Anniversary of a leap of faith

Nine years ago today I bought my first keyboard: a brand spankin' new Roland RD700.

As big purchases go, the Roland wasn't terribly practical. I already had a real upright piano to practice on. I wasn't going to use the other synthesized, non-piano voices for much except occasionally goof around with them. And the thing was expensive—$1,600 for the keyboard itself, another $400+ for the amp, stand, and other equipment.

The big draw? I could cart a keyboard around to gigs.

I wasn't in a band. There were no gigs. I just had a vague notion that I wanted there to be.

In retrospect, buying the Roland was out of character. I usually like to have a concrete destination in mind before I invest in whatever I'll need to reach it. But somehow, this time, I managed to overcome my reservations about the cost, my fears that the keyboard would end up gathering dust. I decided it was worth doing, and I did it.

Eventually there was a band. Eventually there were gigs. Demos. An album.

Sometimes you have to make the investment before you know exactly what you're investing in.

A room full of keyboards

In the middle of a shopping run, I made a brief side trip to a Guitar Center to see if someone I knew was working there. She wasn't, but while looking for her, I happened upon the room with all the keyboards. I can never resist a room full of keyboards. I had a blast trying a bunch of them out, improvising little snatches of music to get a sense of the sound and feel.

I focus a lot on what about my playing needs improvement. Sometimes it's nice to remember how lucky I am, what a kick it is, to be able to sit down at a keyboard and just start playing. Thanks for all those lessons, Mom and Dad. :)