The Accordion at my House
On March 13, 2026 by Speranza
Obviously not me …
When I was about 8 years old, a salesman knocked on our door (yes, this actually used to happen!) and I galloped excitedly to be the one who answered. As the door opened, I saw a man so good looking, I gaped openly. With his dark, slicked back hair (think: Don Draper selling accordions) and a lanky, cool confidence he made the accordion slung across his shoulder seem like the piano’s bad-ass, edgier cousin.
And, he politely looked around the door for my mother and gestured because he wanted to talk to me, particularly!
He must have had some major charisma going on because my mother dried her hands and welcomed him into the house, smiling, patting her hair and allowed him a few minutes with me so he could just show us how the accordion worked. (How I loved that garnet-infused sparkly front and the sharp pleated fans wheezing in and out!) I was completely innocent of how uncool the accordion is perceived to be, (I was 8) and instead, was absolutely transfixed, both with that dark, sloe-eyed salesman and the instrument itself. I listened with desperate, rapt attention as he went through the basics of how to play a simple tune, which I too might be able to replicate by the end of his time with me.
And Reader, I was able to play - and under the doubtful stare of my mother, absolutely bursting with pride that I had managed to do as he had taught me.
(Surprisingly, I cannot recall the tune but it was something along the lines of “Row-Row-Row your boat” without jazz variations). After I had finished, the salesman shook his head solemnly and expressed that he had rarely seen such talent in the raw. Lessons must continue. My heart was so full! Together we would travel the country, (I saw those swirling newspapers showing the passage of time as depicted in 1940s movies) as we moved from city to city playing to sold-out crowds, till eventually we would marry, at the peak of my fame …
But the roast beef was due to come out of the oven now and my mum was having none of it.
I watched sadly as he packed the accordion away into its crushed velvet lining, clipping the case shut securely and carrying away my hopes.
He didn’t even look back afterwards and I heard the door click shut behind him.
“Dinner’s ready,” my mum said.
It’s not too late! Run after him. I’m charmed down to my toes.
Yes they were simpler times - thank you for this xo
Such a lost opportunity. I can see you now, regaling us with “Lady of Spain” on a warm summer night.
Yes, The Barrel could still be Rolled Out lol!
Oh the fond memories you have triggered. Sweet dreams tonight
Cheers to you Jennie xo
Gosh, we never had an accordion salesman at our door……I wish we had been so lucky. I can imagine my Mother’s reaction to him, most likely to be the same……
I’m somehow sure our mums would be similar ha!
Door-to-door. Such amazing memories.
They were such gentlemen too. Well presented and such good manners. So different to today.
And yes, my mum would have been exactly the same!
Impossible to imagine any of this today! He *was* very handsome though!