"John Lillico, RPT" wrote: > A very misleading subject!! And here I thought a lady technician was looking for a date while at Arlington!! Well, I can recall a time... The day had been a Behr so I was relaxing at H.C. Bay. Bach in those days I worked like a Hardman and I was bushed. So there I was admiring the Sohmer set and watching the Fischer men caster their sharp hooks into the Pearl River. Suddenly I heard voicing. Upright before me stood a beautiful 5'2" chickering. She had cherry cheek blocks and satin ebony hair. Her elegantly curved rim immediately struck a chord, and her legs... well I'll just say she was well built! I'll admit her nose bolted out a bit but not enough to damper the finish. After a long sustain she asked me my name. I knew there could be treble so I lyred a bit and told her that it was Jack Flange. She gave me a suite smile. Leather or not it made cents I asked her to dinner. She told be her name was Rose Wood and I could tell that that she had a lot of practice. She had the combo and I had the tuna. What great plates! For desert we had Schubert. At first she said she was board but I could see the cracks. We touched bass on a few striking points and I could tell that we were bridging together. We were well balanced and you could feel the good vibrations! What a well tempered dolly! A few beats later she invited me to conover to her place for a night capo. Of course I knew Weber, but I told her that it would be grand. The Rhodes were pitch dark but I got us there on my Yamaha. Soon we were there, 440 clavier Street, apartment A. It was a duplex. Inside she had a bench with a vose of welted flowers and the pedals were dropping off. In the corner was a bird cage and I could see four birdseyes, a Wing and Son. She said she wood return in a minuet and springed toward the Bach to spruce up.... and boy did she! I was glued! Clearly she was looking for some action. I'll admit I was surprised when she asked if I would give her a wippen. Suddenly there was a crashing chord as the door hammered open! In walked the biggest instrument I had ever seen wearing white polyester. I was right, there was going to be treble. His name was Henry F. Miller and Rose Wood was his little spinet. He cauled out in a forte voice demanded me out on a rail! But Kawai, I asked? His actions were completely automatic, he was solenoiding! What a square. The room became mute as he clenched his knuckles. I was definitely not going to Pleyel around with this monkey. Without missing a beat I grabbed my keys and slipped past him, my ribs still intact. Chopin at the bit I thought about Rose Wood. She really gave me the Renner round. I wanted to Decker. With the blues I went home and slept like a rock. A rose is still a rose, just step ivory! Rob Goodale, RPT Las Vegas, NV
This PTG archive page provided courtesy of Moy Piano Service, LLC