Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Pianists with nails are like Chefs with no body fat.

Yesterday I was doing the dishes when I heard a strange noise and felt my thumb tingle. As I looked down and did a double-take, I realized I had broken a nail. I don't think this has ever happened to me before because, like any good piano player, I have never had any nails. Apparently, I've been so busy and stressed out with tour planning, teaching far too much, and Derby madness, that I have forgotten to clip and/or bite my nails.

I had a manicure once, as part of a friend's 30th birthday spa package, and basically the woman looked at me with pity and -- after I refused her offer of "acrylic tips" (ewwww, wouldn't that mean I'd have to get tiny decorative palm trees and polka dots?) -- basically gave me a hand massage for half an hour before sending me on my shamed way.

But really, I think a pianist with long fingernails is sort of like a skinny chef. Not to be trusted. I clipped my nails immediately and reminded myself to practice more so that never happens again.

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