For the past two weeks, I have been teaching my Music Theory II students chord progressions – ‘50’s chord progressions. We began simply with the I IV V I progression in a twelve-bar blues pattern and then advanced to the I vi ii V I progression, popularized in tunes like Gershwin’s I Got Rhythm, Hoagy Carmichael’s Heart and Soul or Blue Moon. After thoroughly explaining the math behind the music and having the students notate the progressions in their workbooks, I invited them to the keyboard where they learned how to fake accompaniments – a task almost as fun as watching Big or Stuart Little.

I have been faking accompaniments by reading fake books or lead sheets since I was in third grade. I had the perfect organ/piano teacher who played keyboard in a rock band. His name was Lenny, and he taught lessons at a music store named Fulton’s at the Wyoming Valley Mall in Wilkes-Barre, PA. Lenny had a phenomenal ear and memory, and, for many years, he notated the pop tunes his band played on manuscript paper for me. It was the only type of music I had an interest in learning. To this day, I credit him with my love of “love rock” artists like Barry Manilow and Neil Diamond. If the tune was in the top 40, Lenny wrote it out for me, and we studied it together. My first organ recital was at Fulton’s where I played Let there be Peace on Earth by reading the treble line and chord symbols. Lenny’s drilling of the pedal/chord/chord pattern in triple meter still haunts me. After a few years of organ lessons, he transferred me to the acoustic piano, which I loved because I had my choice of instruments at a wonderful piano warehouse. Fulton’s had closed, so we moved to National Music Center, which was the home of Super Sam! Commercials for this new piano warehouse abounded on television, so I was familiar with Super Sam, who dressed in a Superman costume to sell pianos. Meeting Sam at the warehouse was a bit intimidating because my brother and I had been obsessed with superheroes, especially Superman. It was that time in the late seventies and early eighties when the likes of Superman, the Incredible Hulk, the Six Million Dollar Man, Wonder Woman and the Bionic Woman dominated the big and small screens. My obsession with superheroes is documented in chapter six of my book, The Hero and the Antihero!

Lessons at National Music Center introduced me to the finest brands of pianos and organs. I remember choosing the piano because I loved the look of the polished wood and the touch of the keys. Some pianos were easier to play than others because of the weight of the keys. My strength and stamina literally created the sound that the instrument produced. It was completely different than breathing my being into the flute. I could pound the crap out of the piano and release pent-up emotions easily. One of the saddest days of my life was that final lesson I had with Lenny at National Music Center. I was moving to West Chester, PA, to begin my freshman year as a music major and had to say goodbye to the man who had known the little girl whose mother dressed her in pretty dresses with socks and patent leather shoes to match. He had witnessed that little girl transform into an adult who was more comfortable wearing jeans and sneakers. He oftentimes remarked that he missed that little girl who was too shy to speak to him.

I missed him terribly as I began my freshman year at West Chester. When I returned home for Christmas that fall, I discovered that he had made a special trip to my grandmother’s bar in the North End section of Wilkes-Barre to drop off a Christmas card for me. It took a bit of detective work for him to find the North End Tavern, as he had never before visited that section of Wilkes-Barre. I had mentioned it several times because I visited my grandma in order to practice the piano, and my concerts literally drove my uncle nuts. My uncle was tempted to use one of his many guns from his collection on me, and Lenny got a big kick out of that! I visited Lenny a few times during my college years and even played on one of his student recitals. I chose the tune Memory from Cats because I had loved the melody and the lyrics and had studied it with him. I had become so good at faking accompaniments for simple melodies that my piano teacher at West Chester asked me to do a demonstration of it for his piano students, since reading a “fake book” was a component on piano juries for music education majors. I remember playing Flashdance What a Feeling! Lenny had taught me well!

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that twenty years later, I would be teaching audio majors how to fake accompaniments for simple melodies as I had done more than 30 years ago! The music curriculum at the undergraduate and graduate levels required students like myself to evolve into sophisticated artists, and most professors I encountered did not view rock music as serious music. I spent decades polishing my skills as a classical performer and trying to reach an astronomical level of artistry and was not sure if I could remember how to access my inner rock musician. When I was brought on board as a member of the audio department at the Art Institute in 2010, my boss informed me that the students had to be able to read and write lead sheets. He was curious if a classical flutist ever had to play from a lead sheet, and I told him I had done so in my other life as a pianist. Music is vibration, as I mentioned in my new book. It can unlock the doors to memories of the past. I bought an electronic piano in February 2012 – one month after Lenny died. I was devastated when my parents told me they had seen his obituary in the local newspaper and even more upset when I learned that his family was having no viewing. I would not be able to say “goodbye.” As I began playing my new keyboard and some of the tunes I had played years ago, I was suddenly back at National Music Center, and Lenny was sitting next to me. I could feel his presence. I have noticed through the years that music aids in the recall of many past events or feelings. If time really does overlap, and past events have a permanent place in the All of time as I discuss in my book, then perhaps the vibration of music is the key to unlocking those memories. Music has meaning, and meaning makes our lives worth living. We carry those meaningful moments throughout our life’s journey.

When my audio students are at the keyboard, I want to give them the tools to access their own memories. Music theory needs to be practically applied, and fake books allow students with no musical experience whatsoever to quickly learn the skills to play their favorite songs. Those songs shaped who they are and might force them to contemplate where they have been and where they are going. At the very least, faking accompaniments is a diversion from the mundane! I delight in the fact that “fake books” can facilitate access to memories so real. A Course in Miracles reminds us, “Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Herein lies the peace of God.”

My gratitude abounds for the piano keys that have so often been my keys to personal growth. Lenny, I hope you are smiling down on me as you witness the myriad ways I pass on everything you have given me. My memory is real and lasting, and oh, what a feeling it is!