As a pianist, I train the phalanges on these two appendages located at the end of my arms. My hands. Everyday I train them actually. I strive for flexibility, strength, endurance, and overall health. I'm anal about it too. Carpel tunnel could end my career in one swift swoop of terror.

So, imagine my despair when I am suddenly afflicted with an ugly hand rash on both hands. Bubbly, moist, and stretching all the way to the tips of my fingers.

After ridding myself of evil thoughts, thoughts of me running into oncoming traffic to end this charade of living, I decided to wait this tragedy out.

Every now and then, I'd glance down at my alligator hands, and just about cry. And yet somehow, I managed to play every night almost, having a full schedule this past week of work.

Now that my "Job-ishly Biblical" test has dissipated. I've decided that I am done shaking anyone's hand. From now on.

If you see me, and feel like touching me in a ritualistic social salutation, give me a thumbs up instead. :)

Labels: destin, destin florida, electric piano, gulf coast, hand rash, jazz, pensacola, pianist, sean dietrich trio