A Tuned Piano

After two months of waiting, somebody finally came to tune the piano. The wait would've been much shorter, but we wanted my parents' piano tuner. He first tuned theirs some twenty years ago. My folks were so impressed by his diligence, professionalism and, above all else, reasonable rates, they called him back every other year or so to retune it.

I remember he would spend about an hour cleaning keys, repeatedly playing the same notes and chords and adjusting strings until everything sounded just right. My sister and I would watch him from another room, in rapt fascination, for about five minutes before boredom set in. We would then run outside, ride our bikes or play in the backyard while he worked.

Eventually, a flourish of music would burst from every open window and door, which meant he had finished. We would rush back, sit by the screen door and listen to him play. Every note sounded so fresh and crisp. Before leaving, he would write the date on one of the keys and sometimes leave us a songbook of classical music.

My mom would dust and wax the piano, giving it a new look to match the new sound. We would slide across the slippery bench and then start practicing again with renewed vigor. I really can't wait to get home, try out the piano and hear how it sounds. It's such a small thing, but it's still exciting.