[ Dear Bloggies,
I missed you.
Yes….away for three days, and I missed you.]
.
New York. So vast; so brief. One has to stop and sit still, for a moment, just to be sure.
Dusk, on Monday; arriving, balanced on top of brand new laced wedges and ready for bed, I fell into the clutches of a solicitous Uber-assistant who, with one simple utterance:
( “Taxi?”)
placed strategically just inside the airport exit, wooshed me into a wrong colored car and all the way to my AirB&B door
for a cool 80 bucks.
No. We didn’t make out. I crawled in; he disappeared.
The chauffeur took over.
And, he drove. Fast.
I was too tired to care
* * * * * * *
Twelve hours hence, after meeting cool B&B hosts, Al and Hannah,
and sleeping like a baby on purple sheets,
[it’s true, what they say; solo car horns, yelping hallucinogenics, garbage crew…..all night]
I donned my Macy’s recommended apparel and headed even further uptown. Destination:
The appointed time: High noon.
Striding to the grand entrance, I pulled.
The doorman, Alexander, materialized behind the glass.
“Push!” smiled Alex.
(I would learn that, above all else, what distinguishes New York City from every other place on Earth are its doors, hinged to open forward.)
The foyer glistened, with high sunlight and history.
The gentleman on the 9th floor was lean, curved, and tall. Calling out my first name in salutation, he greeted me with his lips pointed in a kiss. He was a first generation German,
and he had pianos in his livingroom.
Three of them.
This Chippendale, 1958, had a delicate, pearl-dropped soprano in sotto voce, a six cylinder bass, and a warm, European tenor.
The Bluthner was on its last legs, and the third humble, congested, unliberated.
.
Labor.
.
Two hours later, I was 300 dollars lighter and ready for the company of dear friends.
It’s good to be home, wherever you are.
Much love,
littlebarefeetblog
p.s. Due to extremely high winds at landing, the return flight was delayed three hours. Our pilot navigated the bank in on his first attempt, and the cabin burst into applause. The next afternoon, I signed for a brand new Steinway Model M, in Pittsburgh’s private showroom.
My own baby.
We’ll grow together.
.
But, I’ll miss you, Chippendale.
Just like I’ll miss NY.
littlebarefeetblog 
So you went to NYC to look at 3 pianos, none of which were what you wanted, but you had a good time anyway (except for the Uber driver who ripped you off) looking at them and having dinner with friends while there and then purchased a piano at the store in Pittsburgh and now you await that delivery? Just trying to make sure I get it because sometimes my simple mind can’t totally understand your very creative one! Glad you are getting a baby grand finally and can’t wait to see pics when you have it!
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That’s pretty accurate , except that the third piano was unanticipated and not for sale. I did sign for one in Pitt, though the check has not been given clearance yet. Busy week – busier weekend! p.s. the Chippendale was almost totally lovely, except for one pesky point that turned out to be pivotal to its total value. You don’t pay $$$ for an instrument whose sound board is deteriorating…
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Absolutely not! Thank goodness you can recognize that! Of course maybe I could too, I don’t know. Never purchased a piano. Also got hand-me-downs (both that Mom and Dad purchased). I am vicariously living through your piano purchase trials and tribulations and successes and can’t wait to celebrate when it finally arrives. Obviously I’ve not had to PERSONALLY feel the highs and lows that you have, but I care and hope in the end it was all worth it for you!!!!! I was at an estate sale a few weeks ago. It wasn’t a planned one, but saw a sign coming home from somewhere and I had a few minutes. I didn’t realize that there was a home with such high-end things in Apollo but instead of walking in the door and back out I walked through the “museum”! There was a grand piano (in my mind forgetting there were grands and baby grands not knowing your space limitiations of course). I was excited because I knew of the purchase from hell and thought maybe I could find one that would work for you. On the surface it looked really nice, good wood, and well taken care of as was all the other items in the house. So I asked how much it was and I was told $2500. I said thank you and never took a picture for you knowing this wasn’t the quality of piano you had saved all your life for! Then someone walked up and tickled the ivories and knew for SURE it wasn’t for you. Even with my limited music and piano knowledge I knew even I wouldn’t want something that sounded like that in my house. It was a grand piano, btw, not a baby. Anyway, I will pm you a picture of one piece of furniture in the “museum” house so you know of what I speak when I say it was out of my league. I was able to take that picture since no one was in the room at the time. LOL Anyway, sorry to ramble. I wait with anticipation with you the arrival of the new piano!
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