In a message dated 98-06-14 07:38:44 EDT, you write: << Once a frail, little old lady at a nursing home offered me a piece of her birthday cake if I would stop tuning. >> I was tuning in the dining hall (read: day room, lounge) of a nursing home and fortunately had the help of one of the woman residents who had appointed herself the caretaker of the piano. Another woman walked in, spied me and made a determined charge to get me off the piano. My protectress headed her off at every turn. Finally in frustration, the challenger retired from her mission, to converse with a group already seated, and I heard her say, "I can't tell one tone from another, and I'm sure HE can't either!" Bill Maxim
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