Once, as I was tuning in a nursing home, a lady approached me and said, "Hello, I'm Irma." I said, "Hello, Irma" and we chatted for a minute or two. I wondered why she was there. She looked about 50 and seemed to move around all right without pain, and she made sense, more or less. Ten minutes later she came up again: "Hello, I'm Irma." Five minutes more: "Hello, I'm Irma." Her favorite song was "Tie a Yellow Ribbon." I got the grand to play it for her when I finished. Maybe it gave her a fleeting enjoyment. I took the action out of the grand at the same nursing home, and took it home to work on. (Key bushings, regulation) When I got it back one of the nurses told me that a relative, hearing far too often about the _marvelous_ player piano they had there came to see it and try it out. He opened the keyfall and ... bare keybed. [he got sore ...] Susan ----------------------------------------------------------------------- At 04:33 PM 6/14/98 EDT, you wrote: >In a message dated 98-06-14 07:42:02 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. >> > >Once, while tuning at a retirement home, two of the resident ladies were >strolling in the parlor where I was at work. One of them commented that, "He's >either a piano tuner or the worst piano player I've ever heard." > >Ralph Black >Nashville > ------------------------------------------------------------------ Susan Kline P.O. Box 1651 Philomath, OR 97370 skline@proaxis.com "The closest you will ever come in this life to an orderly universe is a good library." -- Ashleigh Brilliant
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