I get a call from a girl with a young sounding voice named Nina, who wants me to tune her parent’s piano. Warning lights immediately start flashing in my mind. “Has she asked her parents?” I wonder. “And who is going to be paying for the tuning?” I should probably qualify her about these things, but I don’t ask.
During the lunch with my friend we were talking about how his purpose and mission in life had changed so dramatically; I think he was in some ways still searching for answers, and out of the blue he asked me why I tune pianos. Why do I tune pianos? I hadn’t thought about that in a while, so it took me a few moments to come up with the answer.
You never know in life how much affect you will have on other people, and in return sometimes it’s the people you expect the least, who wind up affecting you the most. Such was the case with Abie.
Abie was far and away the most precocious and stubborn student I ever had to teach to play the piano.
According to one of my customers, there were at one time more pianos in the United States than bathtubs. In 1909, there were 273,000 pianos built, and in 1923 there were almost 400,000. At one time there were as many as 50 to 60 piano factories in Chicago alone.