Mitch, thanks for providing =all= the details! Give or take a few words, your
client's reaction often parallels the feelings I get while tuning.
List, we each likely have clients who disappear during tunings. We may think
they're being courteous. When they re-appear as I'm test-driving the tuning, I
quip that I wish I had the same option -- leaving. Their disappearing may be a
matter of courtesy. It may be in self-defense.
For others, I think the vacuums, disposals, running water, and other things we
object to =may= be alternate methods of self-defense; i.e., noise by
substitution. (I don't like the music on your radio. I'm going to play my
kind, only louder).
Esteemed colleagues, we may consider tuning an art form. We may consider the
tuning process as that of watching a sculptor as the hammer and chisel makes
rough stone gradually take shape into a beautiful form. Many observers only
hear the noise of the hammer and chisel, and prefer to bypass the process and
wait to enjoy the finished work.
On a similar thought, I have the greatest admiration... make than envy, for
the
super-tuners who perform tune-off's and/or tuning 'recitals'. I just can't sit
through them.
Sorry list, I go back on my medication tomorrow!
At 11:04 AM 6/11/98 +0000, you wrote:
> I have a certain lady customer with whom I never have
>a noise problem. She's also a violinist, and when she hears
>a piano being tuned she feels very unbalanced and queasy.
>I mean physically ill as in falling-over puking her guts out.
>So when I'm working on her Steinway B she has to leave the
>house and go for a long walk.
Jim Harvey, RPT
harvey@greenwood.net
________________________
Tuning is a means to an end
-- Harvey (date unknown)
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