I received a comment about my last post, asking who my teacher was... and as I've done before, I started to respond in the comments, but realised what I wanted to say would be better done in a post.
She is a girl called Fiona - and yes, she IS a girl compared to me, she's a student at Brunel University which is 5 minutes from where she lives. So, when she opened the door to me I thought "OK, I know age is no indication of talent, but still...".
Anyway, we went into her house (which I have to say was a typical 'student' house if you know what I mean... not the nicest, but only because it was rented and it was rented by students, who of course can't afford really nice houses... but I digress) there was nobody else in at the time, and she led me through to the kitchen and to a room just off the kitchen. "I'm sorry" she says, and I think "what for?" then she says "would you mind removing your shoes? My mother always taught me to be polite when going into someone elses bedroom and to remove my shoes". REMOVE MY SHOES?? What am I, 12? Are we in Japan? I don't mean that to come across as horrible, but it was a bit of a shock. So shoes removed, we went into her 'bedroom' (I saw NO bed...) and had the lesson. The thing is, she was very young... and she was wearing a very low cut top and she had rather large sweater puppies... and she was sitting very close to me... and I know this sounds like a statement read out for the defendent in a court case, but its all true. Anyway, I felt like SUCH a dirty old man - don't get me wrong, she was very good at the piano, and the things she was explaining to me about how we would go about teaching me were all good, but I couldn't get away from this nagging little feeling of how it would look if someone came into the bedroom and saw me and my age, looking all overweight and sweaty, and her with her age looking all young and nubile and perky... doesn't bear thinking about.
So, am I going to continue? I honestly don't know, but I doubt it. Fiona is on holiday now for two weeks so I have some thinking time. When she gets back, I will decide what to do.
More posts later...