I have some sad news to report. In the name of progress, and for the general improvement of our domicile we had to put our old piano out of its misery. It wasn’t easy. No one likes to see what was once a fine instrument whacked into bits, but it had to be done.
Let me explain.
Every house has things you love about it and things you wish you could change. When we first saw this house five years ago we noticed it had many fine qualities. It had plenty of bathrooms, plenty of bedrooms, a lovely (albeit small) kitchen, a yard with great potential, and a wonderful location on a quiet street facing a park. Those were the pluses. The minuses included the small kitchen, and no “mud room” to speak of. I was also a little worried at first that there would be no place for large family gatherings or entertaining. But once the realtor took us down to the basement all my worries were put to rest. She showed us a wonderfully large family room, which was clean and bright, and even came with a large upright piano. Perfect.
But a few months ago, with a Bridal Shower in the works, I took a fresh look at our wonderful basement family room and soon discovered some changes needed to be made – and soon!
Our first problem was the cat hair. I knew that the only way to get our family room back was to give Sophie away. Thankfully, that was done within a week, and our beloved basement-only cat is now another family’s farm cat, and quite happy.
The second problem (dare I confess) is the mold. A careful examination revealed mold on the walls, on the carpet, and even on a few pieces of furniture – including the old piano. Yuck. I cleaned it up as best I could for the shower, but we knew more extreme measures would need to be taken in order to better correct the problem.
And so this fall we plan to de-mold our basement, beginning with the piano and carpet, and eventually including removal of the paneled walls and a thorough cleaning of the brick foundation. It’s a big project, but little by little we’ll see it through.
I did call our piano tuner to ask if he thought the old girl or any parts of her would be worth saving. He said no. It all could go. Next came the demo. There’s no way we could lift it up the steps as is. (We wonder how it got down there in the first place!) So Jeff got out his axe and started whacking.
I didn’t watch, but I heard. Each time he hit her she made an ugly sound, as if moaning in protest. I can’t describe it, but take my word for it, it was not pleasant. Eventually Jeff’s axe was not enough, and he got out his power saw. The cacophony of whacking, screaming power tools, and piano moans was nothing short of horrific. But then, all was quiet.
“It’s done,” Jeff told me as he came up from the basement, covered in dust and sweat.
“Nice work,” I told him, but I felt like I was congratulating an executioner.
I waited until the next day to take a look. I knew I would find it disturbing. And it was. But I also found it strangely artistic. Before I knew it I had my camera out and I was taking pictures. There was beauty in that pile of twisted string and slivered wood. Do you see it?
Looking at the pile of debris that was once a fine musical instrument made me wonder. How much music did that old girl give over the years? Was she once a treasured family possession? She must have been. I can just imagine her sitting in the parlor of an old Victorian on German Street. Friends and family gathered round, singing hymns and folk songs. No doubt it was a lovely scene. Quite different than the sights and sounds she made when the axe drove large divots into her side. Poor thing. But it had to be done.
Yesterday we took her remains to the landfill and put her to her final resting place. I wrote a short ode for the occasion.
You used to stand tall
Playing music for all
Whatever notes we requested
But you got old
And covered in mold
And so your days finally ended.
We will not cry
As we say good bye
To our piano, our keyboard, our friend.
For your notes will play on
In melodious song.
Great music reverbs without end.
A few notes: This piano was our “spare.” It was quite out of tune, and rarely played. We couldn’t have given it away because lifting it up the stairs would have been impossible. It was also quite covered in mold, and other disgusting stuff. Our beloved Kimball is truly a family treasure. She’s in the living room upstairs and is played daily.
I used several not-so-familiar words in this blog. For those of you who wish to expand your vocabulary, here’s a short glossary:
Domicile - place of residence
Cacophony – a harsh, discordant noise or sound
Reverbs – a shortened form of the word reverberates, echos (I may have made this word up.)
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