Piano Man

Last week I bought a piano. It was a bit of an impulse purchase. By that I mean I agonized over whether to buy it for a period of weeks rather than months/years. An 800-pound instrument is maybe not the best thing to buy on a whim, I admit, especially when you live on a steep ledge passable only by Sherpas, but you don't get to choose the form of your midlife crisis. Some people buy fancy cars, some people buy 100-year-old pianos off of Craig's List. (Husband wishes that, just once, I could end up in the regular category of person.)

The 9YO is the piano player in the house. He's been taking lessons for more than two years and has a real knack for it. He practices at home on a keyboard, which is fun but has its limitations. Lately, I've been playing, too. My doctor thought it might help with some of the memory problems I've been having. Retrain your brain and all that. I haven't noticed much improvement, but I'm having fun and it's amazing how my fingers can remember where the notes are even when my mind doesn't.

I started trolling the free piano listings months ago, fantasizing about owning our own, but it turns out that most free pianos don't sound very good. Some keys might not work, or they stick, or the whole piano is so out of tune you can't even imagine that it's tunable. And then free pianos aren't really free. You still have to pay to move them. You don't want to pay hundreds of dollars to move what could turn out to be a gigantic piece of crap.

This is when I was supposed to dismiss the whole idea as ludicrously impractical. But then I saw a listing for a piano for sale in the next town over, and practicality went out the window. The piano was the old upright style I like, simple but classy. It would look perfect in our living room. The price was reasonable. Not free, but still a bargain. The only question was how it sounded. The 9YO and I went over to try it out one night and we fell in love immediately. Well, "in love" is maybe overstating the 9YO's reaction. He smiled, but that's really something coming from him. I was the one in love. The tone, the look, the feel, everything was just right. And, as we all know, once I fall in love with something, it's nearly impossible to talk me out of it.


Here's a photo from my perspective, looking down from the front door, wringing my hands with worry as the piano movers wrestled that monstrosity out of the truck, into Wednesday's pre-Thanksgiving snowstorm, and up the 31 stairs to our house in the treetops. I'm not a religious person, but I might have said a little prayer on their behalf. Then I pounded a shot of tequila as soon as they left to calm my jangled nerves. I don't think that piano's going anywhere for a while. Luckily, the 9YO hasn't stopped playing it since it arrived.

I hope the folks at Allegro Piano Movers had extra pie at Thanksgiving because they really deserved it.

Comments

[Michael]

From me as a reader and new-to-me recipe developer on Thanksgiving: Many thanks.

For sharing your spicy warmth and encouragement.

You, Tammy and Family, make the music.

My recipe?

Seeds from one large pomegranate

About a dozen chopped Medjool dates

Toss into a large soupbowl of crumbled feta cheese -- enough so there are pomegranates and dates in each spoonful of feta.

Serve -- if you can find a way to balance it on the way to your mouth -- on multi-grain crackers. Or with a spoon.

[Maria]

It's beautiful! I will take a piano over a fancy car any day. I used to play as a child - until I left home at 18. I've not lived in a place with a piano since then, but I hope to one day have the space for a piano again :-)