Hi, friends. For the next two weeks of episodes, the poet, Shira Erlichman, will be back in the host chair, I'll return on October 30th.

I'm Major Jackson, and this is the slowdown.

I grew up in a home with an upright Steinway piano.

It was beige and sat in the corner of the living room, silent until someone came along and tinkled its keys.

My grandmother played every Saturday in preparation for Sunday morning church.

She was untrained, yet played old hymns by ear.

We also gathered around her Christmas Eve and sang holiday songs.

I fiddled here and there, nothing special.

Earlier this year, I started piano lessons.

I have whole tunes and solos memorized in my ear, from Glenn Gold's Goldberg Variations to McCoy Tiner's Parasena.

But I discovered I lacked the lyricism of my favorite pianist.

My teacher, Carla, is as patient as they come.

Walking me through hole and quarter notes, so that I can get the rhythm in my body.

Which, of course, I believe is already there. I just need to practice.

I hear my friend bin laughing quietly to himself, if he's listening right now to this episode.

We both love Alan Iverson's famous press conference.

Practice? Practice?

We're talking about practice, man.

We ain't talking about the game.

We're talking about practice.

There is no shortcut to virtuosity.

Some say poetry is the most democratic art.

...