Not long after we moved to our current NJ apartment, I purchased my very own piano. Never having lived in an apartment building with a piano before, I was slightly worried what my neighbors would think, as the sound would surely carry to the apartment below and beside us. I put my shiny May Berlin in the spare bedroom where I would have my own music space to work in. Eddie and I insulated the wooden floor as best we could with foam and an area rug, and muffled the back of the piano to catch some of the sound. I'll never forget sitting down at he keys. It was the moment I had been waiting for. I had my very own room, with a door, with privacy, to play and do whatever I wanted without inhibition. I chose to play the song "Turkish March" by Mozart, a song I learned in 8th grade and became so ingrained into my muscle memory that I can still play it to this day without ever glancing at the keyboard. I hit that last, glorious A major chord and let the sound echo throughout