One of the things about playing the piano for so many years is that there are a lot of experiences under my belt. While other people manage to get better with their skill, I just try to get smarter. (It’s easier than practicing.) While acquiring skill is important, it is equally important to know how to handle it. Of course, this is true for a lot of things.

When I have a brain freeze at a bad time, I’ve got a special look for the other musicians that asks, “What are you people thinking, man?” It is the secret smirk. Every pianist has one. Then there is pentatonic scale to employ whenever you’re stuck (make sure you have the key straight first and hope that it isn’t B).

I memorize my music so when it falls during a page turn, I can play with one hand while sweeping the floor with my other. This takes forethought, true, but sometimes I forget the masking tape to hold the appropriate spots. I saw a virtuoso play last weekend and he didn’t use masking tape. He turned pages during the hard parts, and I just sat there in awe.

One time I was playing with a very accomplished violinist (I’m guessing all the good pianists were sick). I had a “moment” when I looked up and realized I had absolutely no idea where we were. Panic. So I let her have a solo and nodded approvingly. Finding the quindupletsuplet notes on the pages, I was able to resume my background noise to her masterpiece. But I’m just saying that a good strategy is to act like you meant to do it, and ignore the glare from your fellow musician.

Other than a flute and occasional violin, I was the go-to lady at our last church since you can’t sing the Doxology with just a flute. (Actually, you can and it’d be great, except that people think you can’t, and that is more important than the actual truth.) The church pianist, a moniker I facetiously donned only because it was better than being the pastor’s wife, is just a fancy way to say that now you’re never allowed to get sick. Ever.

If you have a Christmas program this year at your church, give your pianist cookies. She is under a lot of stress. She probably has the flu. The music is stacked up to her left elbow, and she just had to learn her 57th version of Silent Night. Be kind to her. She is hunched over for a reason, and it’s not so she can get a better view of the Baby Jesus coming down the aisle.

A few years ago, I was in the church office talking with our pastor. He was telling me how the last organist played, Love Me Tender for the offertory. I don’t make this stuff up. I am just saying that there is always a way to bless someone, even if it is only being appropriate with your gestures. If you can’t play harder, play smarter.