It was not. But it felt like I had all the music in hand, and it felt like it should. Like I was sculpting clay. That is how playing the piano is supposed to feel. No one has ever come right out and said this, it is just something that in 1993 I felt sheltered for having not realized long before.
Some people get sexually aroused shopping for towels.
I have not given this much thought since then. In high school I was friendly with a janitor at McKay Auditorium in Tampa. According to the oval-shaped patch on his shirt, his name was Al. He was always angry and full of dispirited stories, and something in me wanted to be like him. It's the same part of me that listens to songs like Maggie Mae or Angie and wishes I lived the life of whoever sang such songs, but who has been close enough to that kind of hurt to know that it feels filthy.