I had a wonderful thing happen to me the other day that actually started off as a bad thing.

Well, I don't guess it was really bad, unless you're the one who did it, but since you weren't.... Let me just tell you about it.

A friend and I had to drive and get a piano. I had fourteen helpers lined up and only one was somewhere that he could be found the day of reckoning.

That's just what happens when you move a piano. It's like throwing a skunk into your neighbor's barbecue crowd. Whoosh! Everyone disappears like they were never really there at all.

I must say that at least a few of my would-be helpers had very valid excuses, mostly related to their jobs. People like to eat, you know. If it weren't for that, all these jobs just wouldn't be necessary.

At least we didn't have to try and navigate any stairs or anything. I don't think I would have made it.

We picked up the piano together and put it on the truck and muscled it over the tailgate. Then we kind of cheated and used a come-along to pull it part of the way up. After that, we shoved it on home and tied it down, with the expert help of the fellow who sold it to me. It would seem that he is a yachtsman of sorts and he knows how to tie knots that have their own names.

I do knots like the bow tie, the double knot and, my least favorite, the cut the rope knot. Obviously, the cut the rope knot requires very little thought on the tying and about 10 minutes of swearing and a pocket knife on the untying. He did manage to secure the behemoth, but only after using four ropes large enough to secure a small herd of circus elephants.

Inside the piano, (I found out later) there is a cast iron peg board that holds the strings which probably weighs in at three hundred pounds or more. It is made by the Bowen Company of Boston, or so it says on the big iron board under the lid. The whole thing probably reaches near 600 pounds. I probably wouldn't have went after it had I known that. It isn't a lack of confidence, mind you, it's an over abundance of

painful experiences that would lead me away from heavy objects. When heavy things move, they take their toll on all who participate in one way or another. At best, you get sore muscles. At worst, you get a hospital bill. Even the ‘at best' isn't feeling all that good to me today.

As for the moving experience, after a fairly slow and uneventful trip back to the house with it, the real fun began.

I pulled the piano (which is just really pain-o with the A and the I switched around) and my friend pushed it until it was hanging off the back of the truck. We then lowered one end to the ground and cocked it up on the corner so that the tailgate could be shut. With that obstacle out of the way, we then lowered it to the ground. It was a delicate operation, to say the least.

Afterwards, I started sharing my feelings, like, "Oh my back" and "I didn't know that could hurt there." The following day wasn't much better, when my stomach, upper back and a few other muscles reminded me that they had been resting for some time and I quite rudely awakened them without warning. Therefore, the muscles tried to make sure I didn't rest, either.

That's the problem with exercise, you have to do it all the time or you suffer when you do finally try something. It would almost be better to live a sedentary life of leisure just to avoid the pain, injury and aggravation. But I can't do that. After all, who else would move my piano?

After getting it on the porch, it still had to be cleaned, since it was covered with several hundred years worth of incredibly thick dust and cobwebs.

Even the keys were covered with dust, even though the little guard was closed. After it had been washed off with soapy water, I then pushed it inside and called the piano tuner guy. He seems pretty bright about these things. "Is it worth another $100?" I asked him. "We'll see," he said. After looking it over, he told me that it was actually a pretty decent piano. It tuned well and everything was working. Listening to a piano being tuned isn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. It was over in just a few short hours with only the slight pain in the checkbook remaining. The piano guy even said that I could get it in ideal condition for about $300 more or so. That would include trimming the doo-hickies, removing the what-cha-ma-jigger and tightening the doggonits and lubing up the thingies and installing a de-humidifier. (Sorry about using all of that technical piano language on you).

So, I instead opted for the $100 service call and ended up with an instrument that was in tune, but still had a few little problems, which makes it fit right in with everything else I already own.

All I can say is that I am glad I have people who will help me when they can (that goes for the people who would have helped if not for their jobs). But, as for those who didn't help because they didn't want to or because they suddenly got scarce, I have found the perfect answer. I will invite them all over for supper and then offer them a three-hour piano concerto. While I had thought of playing such song's as Joplin's The Entertainer, they are a little beyond my means right now.

Having said that, I will most likely entertain my ex parte piano movers with such hits as Mary Had a Little Lamb, Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and Three Blind Mice. I can hardly wait.

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