Does anyone play the piano anymore? Of course they do. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it though.
Our neighbor down the block has a piano on his driveway. The sign in front says, “Free.” Come pick it up. All you have to do is truck back to your place and begin tinkling the ivories.
It’s sad that the piano can’t be sold for at least a few bucks. What has happened to all those people who used to play musical instruments? Have they disappeared? Or is it only the piano players who seem to have disappeared?
I have no idea how long our neighbor spent trying to sell his piano. It could have been time to get rid of it, and they didn’t want the hassle of using eBay or Craig’s List, and said, “What the heck, let’s put it out front and see who takes it.”
Or they might have been trying for months to find a buyer, slowly reducing the price to the point where it finally got so low that attempting to get anything at all seemed pointless. Regardless, it’s now waiting to be picked up free by a scavenger.
We tried to sell our piano twice. There was hope that one of our kids would go the musical route, but none did. My wife tinkered with it from time to time. Mostly, it sat there. Occasionally a friend would be over at our house, and take a few moment to pound the keys, livening the atmosphere for the evening, but that was a rare moment.
I forget what happened the first time we decided to try and sell it, except that we couldn’t find a buyer and we weren’t ready to part with the near-antique piano and get nothing in return. Last year, things had changed, and after a brief exploration of options, we were able to pass it onto someone for free. I pictured a YouTube video as it was pushed down the street, someone jogging while plunking away at a tune – “The Runaway Piano.” J
We didn’t video its deportation, and now the piano rests in someone else’s home, hopefully making them happy and/or helping the next generation learn how to play. Either option sounds good to me.
Recently I visited a long-term good friend of mine at his place in Marquette, MI. In our early- to mid-20’s, I spent many hours listening to him play the piano, creating tunes from scratch, pounding away, my mind fascinated by his ability to feel music and share its beauty with others. It is great to have a friend like that.
During this recent trip, I was out back reading when I heard the light tinkle of the piano. It was like the pied piper. I put down my book, sat and listened, admiring his skill, wishing for his ability, but knowing it was enough to appreciate the talent he shared with others. His back door was open, the music coming out through the screen.
Old songs surfaced. Certain keys tugged at memories. The melodies were fluid. I hummed. He raised the tempo.
After many minutes of just enjoying the sounds, I strolled to the back deck and stood there, breathing in the crisp Michigan air, letting the music envelope me. When he finished, I poked my head inside and remarked on some of his songs from the past, hoping to get him to revive them.
Sadly, it’s hard for a musician to go that far back and remember all the keys to play, so it was enough listening to him improvise. That’s just as good.
Anybody want to buy a piano? They’re worth the price.
Our neighbor down the block has a piano on his driveway. The sign in front says, “Free.” Come pick it up. All you have to do is truck back to your place and begin tinkling the ivories.
It’s sad that the piano can’t be sold for at least a few bucks. What has happened to all those people who used to play musical instruments? Have they disappeared? Or is it only the piano players who seem to have disappeared?
I have no idea how long our neighbor spent trying to sell his piano. It could have been time to get rid of it, and they didn’t want the hassle of using eBay or Craig’s List, and said, “What the heck, let’s put it out front and see who takes it.”
Or they might have been trying for months to find a buyer, slowly reducing the price to the point where it finally got so low that attempting to get anything at all seemed pointless. Regardless, it’s now waiting to be picked up free by a scavenger.
We tried to sell our piano twice. There was hope that one of our kids would go the musical route, but none did. My wife tinkered with it from time to time. Mostly, it sat there. Occasionally a friend would be over at our house, and take a few moment to pound the keys, livening the atmosphere for the evening, but that was a rare moment.
I forget what happened the first time we decided to try and sell it, except that we couldn’t find a buyer and we weren’t ready to part with the near-antique piano and get nothing in return. Last year, things had changed, and after a brief exploration of options, we were able to pass it onto someone for free. I pictured a YouTube video as it was pushed down the street, someone jogging while plunking away at a tune – “The Runaway Piano.” J
We didn’t video its deportation, and now the piano rests in someone else’s home, hopefully making them happy and/or helping the next generation learn how to play. Either option sounds good to me.
Recently I visited a long-term good friend of mine at his place in Marquette, MI. In our early- to mid-20’s, I spent many hours listening to him play the piano, creating tunes from scratch, pounding away, my mind fascinated by his ability to feel music and share its beauty with others. It is great to have a friend like that.
During this recent trip, I was out back reading when I heard the light tinkle of the piano. It was like the pied piper. I put down my book, sat and listened, admiring his skill, wishing for his ability, but knowing it was enough to appreciate the talent he shared with others. His back door was open, the music coming out through the screen.
Old songs surfaced. Certain keys tugged at memories. The melodies were fluid. I hummed. He raised the tempo.
After many minutes of just enjoying the sounds, I strolled to the back deck and stood there, breathing in the crisp Michigan air, letting the music envelope me. When he finished, I poked my head inside and remarked on some of his songs from the past, hoping to get him to revive them.
Sadly, it’s hard for a musician to go that far back and remember all the keys to play, so it was enough listening to him improvise. That’s just as good.
Anybody want to buy a piano? They’re worth the price.