Last time I wrote a 'My Story' post , I mentioned how Mr. B's free-structured recital plan did not set well with me. I would not be doing Mr. B. justice if I left it at that. He was one of the key musical influencers in my journey. Up until the time he began to play piano for church, I had drudged along in piano -- a typical, uninspired child who grumbled about practice. (I'm so glad Mom didn't let me quit in those days!) I had always loved to listen to music. I loved it when some of the young adults in our church would give a spontaneous, post-fellowship-lunch concert for us. I loved it when Mom would pop a classical CD into the player, and she and I would invent a story to go with each song on our way to the grocery store. I just didn't like to play piano myself. I can't pinpoint the day, the moment, or the hymn number when that changed. I just know that it gradually began to change as I listened to Mr. B. playing in my early teens. I gues...