Wit & Wisdom from the
Students of Daniel Light
Teaching piano is my passion and my career. Students frequently delight me with their comments--often hilarious, sometimes witty, occasionally sweet and tender. Here are some of those gems.
I Get No Respect
“Thank goodness it’s finally time to leave!”
“You need to get married.”
“Your piano is still dusty.”
“That’s annoying my ears.”
“This seems like it’s taking forever.”
–2nd grader, 8 minutes into her lesson
“Don’t be so grumpy!”
“Mr. Light, did your Christmas tree have candles on it when you were a kid?”
“You sound like the genie from Aladdin.”
“Put this assignment sheet in your piano binder the minute you get home,” I said to the 2nd grader who forgot his binder today.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied.
“When can I leave? This seems longer than usual.”
“I’ll play the duet part with you on the recital,” I said.
“This piece is a pain in the butt.”
“You sound like a dragon with a cough.”
–3rd grader, in response to my singing along with her playing
“You’re a little bit dizzy today, Mr. Light.”
“Well, today more than usual.”
“What’s different?” I asked, demonstrating a drop-lift motion.
“Your hand looks old and wrinkly?”
“Do you consider yourself an old man yet?”
“We’re singing our Christmas concert from memory.”
–4th grader, ever so gently dissing the choral concert I played for Sunday
“That drawer is MESSY!”
–1st grader, observing my desk
“I can’t believe you know how to spell staccato. Was that on a 6th grade spelling test or something?”
“Now, try it without my help,” I encouraged.
“Oh, were you helping?”
“You’re an evil, evil man!”
–6th grader, at being asked to do something challenging
“I will always remember Mr. Light shrieking when he heard something we worked on for 30 minutes messed up again.”
“You’re cramping my style,” complained the 10th grader, at being asked to fix sloppy fingering.
“That’s what your parents pay me to do,” I replied.
“Mr. Light, The fact that Harvey is sick today doesn’t mean you should extend my lesson time.”
“I met someone today who went to school with you. She was kind of an older lady with blondish hair . . . . ”
“I’m gonna tell you something funny, Mr. Light; but you don’t need to put it on your funny little Mr. Light Facebook thingy.”
“Bravo!” I responded to a piece beautifully played.
“Brava!” she corrected.
“You guys are killing me!” I said after two students laughed so hard through their duet, they could barely keep playing. “If you put me in my grave with this duet, you have to play it at my funeral.”
“Why would I attend your funeral?” replied the 5th grader.
“Mr. Light, sometimes you make me mad.”
“Mr. Light, you need to get out more.”
“I’m really mad you made us come to piano on a holiday!”
“Have you been hiding under a rock?”
–6th grader (When I didn’t know what House of Boom was.)
“Does Santa even come to your house?”
“In 2049 I’ll be 45, and you’ll be . . . dead.”
“If you don’t practice that piece with a metronome this week, I’m gonna haunt you in your sleep.”
“You’re already in my nightmares.”
“I still remember the day in my youth when I mastered that passage,” I said to the student who, for the first time today, totally nailed the hemiola phrases in Khachaturian’s “Two Ladies Gossiping.”
“Oh, so this piece is really old, huh?”
“What score do you think I’ll get?” asked the 5th-grader after rehearsing for adjudication.
I suggested a number, then added, “But your judge might be nicer than I am.”
“Most people are,” he replied.
“I’m getting old waiting for you,” I said to the student dilly-dallying at the start of his lesson.
“You’re already old,” he replied nonchalantly.
“Mr. Light, why is your hair turning gray?”
“Because I’m getting old.”
“Who will take care of your cat when you die?”
“How old are you, Mr. Light?”
“Wow, I thought you were at least 70.”
“No offense, Mr. Light, but you’re really not a very good singer.”