Uncle Bill
My Uncle Bill was my mother's older brother. He passed away last Monday at 87 years old. Since my mother left this earth 23 years ago at 61, I'm not sure what conclusions to draw regarding the gene pool. Even their parents, Roy and Ilene Burke, had vastly different longevities.

Uncle Bill was a straight shooter, a stalwart of consistency, a church-going man, a veteran, a retiree with a pension and 37 years under his belt. He was on the planning board in Farmington, Michigan for as long as they've anyone remembers planning. They don't make guys like this anymore.

My uncle was 6 -foot-2 and blessed with a radio voice which was in constant use. He came to Michigan when his father, a tunnel engineer, got a job with a new project near Detroit. Bill married Rita Marnon in 1943. They had four kids over the next 14 years. When he died, he was still living in that house where the family grew up.

When I got the news I knew I wanted to drive to Detroit rather than fly. I don't get a lot of quiet time these days and I thought this event required a good deal reflection. This was not a logical decision - if I flew the door-to-door time would be 6 hours. It takes 14 hours to drive the 800 miles from my house. But my instincts were right. I particularly enjoyed the drive out which I split over 2 days. I listened to a lot of music, worked on a few mental projects, and reveled in the exoctica of Buffalo, Cleveland, and Toledo. Not much to look at out there. Among the few memorable moments was the billboard with America's favorite slut offering this.

I'm glad I went despite being struck on the head with spiritual angst. The people around me seem so confident about their beliefs. Bill was a giving and loving man who served his church for many years. He is now taking his rightful place in heaven. That's it. There is no doubt about it. I can't possibly accept this view but I'm jealous of those who can.

Princess Grand
With the help of the iconic Deathwish Movers, I have moved this overweight Lindeman upright piano from the back room in Fitchburg to the second floor in Arlington (through the window with a crane), then over to the the big living room in Waltham and finally to the Sudbury house. If you add it up, the moving costs are easily double the original cost of the piano. This has been a great piano with it's big bright sound and incredible resistance to going out of tune. It was a player piano in its former life but somewhere along the way I had to have the player guts removed in order to fix a stuck key. That operation dropped 25 of it's 750 pounds, and increased the volume to the point where I never take my foot of the soft pedal.
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Alas, I am moving one more time and I think it is time to part company with this old lady and get something a bit grander. I put the ad on craigslist asking for $700, hoping to get my original $500 back.

I've been scouting the countryside for a grand for awhile. Uncle Frank generously offered to give me his 5' 5" Ivers & Pond but the news was not good from the technician who appraised it: current value: $500, cost to fully restore: $18,000. I had to tell Uncle Frank that this piano was like my kids - it will cost a fortune to bring it up to full potential.

I occasionally will stroll through a piano store that has used instruments in hopes of a find but you're talking about $10-$15K for a Mason & Hamblin or Chickering and 30 G's for a Steinway. I know don't have to pay this much because there are people with decent pianos that are just taking up space (the pianos, not the people). If I lock coordinates with a person who just wants it out of his house I'm all set.

And I found him. Tom lives in a sad cape. He's 80 if he's a day. As I rolled up to the house his son was trying to brighten the place up and moving what looked like 50 years worth of stuff out of the house. Tom had an appointment at an assisted living facility later in the week. Thought he'd be out of the house by September. We walked down the basement steps and turned. There in the dark, back corner was the Ivers & Pond Princess Grand. I was hard to access the case with so little light available. The sound was, at best, boxy. The bass strings were completely shot. I brought my father-in-law along for moral guidance. Joe banged out some Gershwin and Fight of the Bumblebee. The action was good. There's hope for this thing.

I went outside and called my piano tuner who was in a canoe at the time. He agree to take a look at it that afternoon. Kirk had a discouraging tome when he called that night. "Jeez there a lot of pianos out there. You could find one that doesn't need all this work". But he also told me the pinblock is in good shape. It has good bones.

That was four days ago. I'm tempted but indecisive at the moment. I'm taking an aside to just think about pianos for a minute. They are connected to families and houses and characters. Though they are substantial occupants in a home, they can sit unnoticed for years watching kids grow up, fathers get old, mothers go away. Occasionally, they will tempt a girl with it's possibilities and relationship will blossom. And so I'm not just upgrading pianos. I'm letting one go and getting to know another. If I buy this one, she'll be a lot older than me, but I like that idea.