'My father, refusing alcohol, was content enough to sit and play this sorry instrument just for the pleasure it gave everyone. As I sat underneath the keyboard watching both of his hands going in different directions at the same time while playing the standard songs of the day, I looked up at him in admiration. He caught my gaze while playing.
‘I’ll never be able to play like that’, I said enviously.
Without a pause in his striding left hand and still playing with the other, he looked directly at me and said, ‘No, you won’t…you’ll play even better!’ That was the best Christmas ever!'.
From page 19 of 'Pictures of an Exhibitionist', the 2004 memoir/autobiography by Keith Emerson.
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