When The Extra Credit Lies
"This is Whitmore right here, they just didn’t open the doors yet.” said the man in blue. “Thank you, sir.” With barely three weeks spent in the U.S., I was excited to attend my first concert in this school. I arrived fifteen minutes early, I wasn’t the only one. The weather inside the building was warm, the environment seemed friendly with the people surrounding it. “Oh, he must be practicing!” says the woman as we hear an instrument being played faintly on the other side of the wall. I walk inside to find a big fancy piano in the middle of a nice looking stage with wooden striped walls. Our entertainer of the night, with the name of Peter Miamoto, will play the grand piano for us this evening starting at 8 p.m. I clutched the yellow papers that contained his biography and the titles of each piece he will be playing. The first composition was somewhat sad, it was slow for me, and I think I heard someone snoring a couple of rows back. the ones that came after the first-ha...