Through the years, the reality of service scheduling has shown itself to me to be just a tad on the surrealistic side. Consider please... There have been (that I remember) maybe four or five times in the last twenty years or so that I cleverly managed to look at either the wrong day of the week, or the wrong week altogether as I was performing the ritualistic combinatorial coffee infusion/schedule transcription from my favorite "Far Side" mug, and "Week at a Glance" to my alleged body, and note pad/brains at a glance pocket list - respectively - as I tried to assemble some sort of workable reality at my desk in the morning, for the remains of the day. If you're still with me after all that, I'm impressed, but I haven't arrived at the point yet. The interesting part comes when I show up on the wrong porch (we don't have "stoops" here), at the right time on the wrong day altogether, and my wondrously gracious and resilient customers throw the door open and cheerfully allow such a piteously and hopelessly disorganized wraith into their homes under such conditions. If there were even a hint of cockles in my heart, this would without a doubt warm them. There is of course, the implicit inconveniencing of the innocent who had rightfully reserved the time slot I had so randomly bequeathed to another person altogether through a process of relative stupidity and general unawareness. That has been traditionally resolved (relative term) after the fact through a process of back pedalling, scheduling compromises, and intermittent apologetic grovelling, as necessary. Fortunately, my customers tend to be sterling individuals of exemplary character, possessed of extraordinary magnanimity and the capacity to extend clemency to a well meaning but somewhat scattered large hairy piano technician such as myself, and tend to cut me more slack than I likely deserve. The upshot here is that there's probably a better than even chance that you could dispense altogether with reminder cards and calls and just show up on the porch (stoop) unannounced, tuning hammer at "order arms", and be welcomed in like an old friend. Even if it didn't exactly work like that, it should be vastly entertaining to try. This is a thoroughly spooky business. Ron N
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