When I was about ten years old, I participated in a music competition. Wait, let me back this up a bit. My parents left one night to buy a piano; I was overjoyed. They returned with an electric organ. I was mortified. Still, my sister and I obediently took lessons. I practiced daily, because I was the first-born rule follower. My sister, disliking it as much as I did but not needing to do the die-hard rule following thing because she had ME, instead put on her headphones, kicked up the rhythms and pounded away at the keys for her practice time, until the day music teacher gently suggested to my…