In some ways, Chuck Senrick has come a long way from the musician he was when he first stepped into Jim's Steak House in 1982, looking for a temporary gig.
And in other ways, he hasn't gone far very far at all: Aside from a five-year stint in Florida, Senrick has manned the piano bench at the Bloomington restaurant for the past four decades.
"I've spent more time at this piano in the last 35 years than I did at home or doing anything else," he told WGLT. "I was really lucky to be able to do that."
What started as a temporary, two-week gig turned permanent, though Senrick said he's been making the same joke for 40 years: "I never, ever leave my computer, because I don't know if I'll have a job tomorrow."
By the end of the week, he won't — at least, not at Jim's Steakhouse. The moment that he'd been waiting for, he said, the one that would tell him it was time to retire, finally came around Christmastime last year.
"I'm nervous every time I play — I've always said that the day that I walk in and I'm not nervous about playing my first song is the day to consider stopping the job," he said.
Senrick will play his last shows on Oct. 30 and 31 of 2024, marking the conclusion of the act he called "At Home at the Piano Bar."
'It's magic'
Senrick said he's been getting lucky in music since he was 15 — when he got a call from a man who owned a grocery store in his Minnesota town and learned there was an opening for a singer at a dance hall gig. The man and his band didn't have a piano for Senrick to sit behind, but told him when he arrived for his try-out to sing a cappella.
"I think it was the most scared I've ever been in my life, to sing in front of these old guys, who actually weren't very old at all, but I did it and they hired me and the first job I played was two weeks later," he said. "I made $12 and that was more money than anyone had ever handed me for anything — except if it was my birthday. It was so wild that I knew I wanted to do that for the rest of my life."
By the time the owners of Jim's Steak House were looking for a house piano player in the early 1980s, Senrick had been playing the keys, singing and picking a guitar for years. They'd contacted a talent agency that represented him and he made the 12-hour drive down from Minnesota.

That was how he came to play in Peoria, at the original Jim's Steak House location.
"I remember walking in that first day," he said. "It was so elegant. I thought I was in New York."
The gig was supposed to be for two weeks, though Senrick ended up staying with the restaurant family longer than that, moving from the Peoria location to Bloomington.
He did, eventually, move to Florida for a few years to play at a restaurant on Anna Maria Island, but Greg Comfort, the owner of the Bloomington steak house, "asked me back every year," Senrick said.
After five years, he decided it was time to move on permanently.
"I regretted leaving there, but Jim's Steak House was always the best choice. I had a good five years with them already, so I knew what to do," Senrick said. "Still, I never thought this job would last."
'We had some fun'
Where other musicians would deign to be a house piano player, Senrick said he thrived. It's true that he appreciates accolades, attention, the spotlight and being appreciated for his art, he said, but he came to view creating background music as its own craft.
"I hear musicians saying, 'Oh God, the worst job in the world's a cocktail player. You've got to sit and be quiet.' I always thought, 'Have you ever done it for years and years and years?' Often, it's about doing it that makes it the great thing that it is," he said. "Some people may think, 'Oh it's not important,' but the truth is it's really important — and it is to me."
The way that Senrick tells it, he's one of several musicians that have spent years and years of their lives providing live music at the restaurant, a tradition that — like him — has seen some things change and others stay the same.
One thing that has changed: The dress code.
When Senrick was first getting started, a house piano player was a "tuxedo job." That element of costume was something he loved about the job, he said, because it was "elegant and simple." At the time, even in a tuxedo, "you never outdressed your customers."
By the time Senrick came back from Florida in the mid-1990s, that had changed. Suddenly, he was out-dressing his customers.
"I'm disappointed with the way musicians dress today. Call me old-fashioned, but tee shirts and rugged looks, it's just not my thing. I grew up when Willie Nelson was still wearing sparkles in his tux," he said. "But then again, you can't tell an artist how to dress."
Another change: The culture.
"In the golden years of Jim's Steak House, I'd start playing at 7:00 p.m. and the place would be full and it would be full when we were pushing people out the door at 2 a.m., Tuesday through Saturdays," he said. "There were so many years like that. We drank and whooped it up and partied. We had some fun."
Now, he said, the culture is tamer. Week nights rarely see the restaurant stay open past 10 p.m., though the weekend crowd does stay a bit later than that. The yellow cloud of smoke from indoor cigar smokers — lifted by legislation in the mid-2000s — never came back. Things are different, Senrick said, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.
"I think people are getting smarter. I think they kind of realize it's not good to drink all night long. That took me forever to learn," he said. "If they can continue to be smart, that would be my hope."
One thing that hasn't changed in all of his years of professional playing, he said, is the music. New artists come on to the scene, new genres are formed and new songs are added to repertoire, but the same songs still remain in rotation: Where he once sang Proud Mary as a 15-year-old, he'll still play it now, some-50 years later.
He expects the same for the artists that come after him — that they'll still be playing stand-bys from Billy Joel, Elton John and others.
Soon to be retired from the part-time-gig that turned permanent, Senrick said he'll no longer be relegated to those songs. In retirement, he said, he hopes to work on some more grander projects, perhaps play more guitar, or try out new forms of art: At one point, he said, he was fixated on crafting decorative mobiles, which were temporarily displayed around his piano at the steak house.
He also has two grandchildren he hopes to spend more time with, including a grandson who has his own, newly-found interest in playing guitar and a granddaughter who's also just started getting into music at her school.
"Everybody's gone on [about], 'What are you going to do when you're done?' I've said I'm going to do exactly the same thing I've always done. It's just I'm going to have some more time to do everything and a couple of extra things. I've got all sorts of imaginative stuff I can do," he said.