We all have a part of our lives we prefer not to visit again. Mine came when I was about 12. A traveling accordion salesman came to our house. I know, you think I am making this up. No, it was real. It happened. My parents were both home along with my younger sister and myself. It was a Saturday, a day that will live in infamy. The salesman only wanted a few minutes of our time and my parents let him in carrying a huge box with him. He said his music company was looking for local musical talent and opened that giant box revealing a black shiny accordion.