Accordion Like an Italian Wedding

He played for us like it was an Italian wedding. Once that old man got started we couldn’t stop him.

I was skeptical when Billy said we were going on an “adventure.”

“I thought we were going to buy wood.”

“Yes, but it’s like going to Italy without leaving Glen Cove.”

So we went to the nursery, Billy ordered wood, and the old Italian man embraced him like an old friend. First, he told an off-color story that I could barely understand and that I won’t repeat. The way he talked reminded me of my grandfather.

Then Billy asked if he’d show me his accordions.

“No, no, no…” he pleaded. He didn’t take them out much anymore. They were old.

Anyway, Billy will not be denied, so we were shown the oldest accordion. The one he brought over from Italy. It was old and missing a few parts, and so was he.

“Play something.”

Same pleading, “no, no, no…. I haven’t played in so longer…. My fingers, they don’t move like they used to…”

“That’s okay. We don’t care.”

Reluctantly, he started. We clapped after his first song. And that was all it tool. He played and played.

And I felt like I was at a rehearsal for the wedding scene in the Godfather… Or at a family party.