Sounds good to Me.

[Ron Nossaman]

>Regarding the Keith v. Richard dialogue:
>I think what we have here is a difference of national (maybe 
>continental) culture, both in the expectations of the technicians and 
>in the customer base. 

Well, I essentially agree with Richard on this one, though I'm a whole lot
closer geographically to Keith. Guess my culture is continental in the
wrong quadrant. Seems like that ought to hurt, shouldn't it? 


>We're *used* to harrowing conditions (cf. Richard's outrage at tuning 
>amid clangor in a factory, while we reply "yeah well put the earplugs 
>in and use that magnetic mic" because we're used to that bad attitude 
>and have learned to adapt to it ).

This looks like the ideal opportunity to add another harmless little bit of
perspective. Can't let that get away. I spent a couple of days this week
tuning "my part" of 40+ pianos in a large bank atrium/county for a big deal
Steinway/Boston sale by an out of area dealer. It is a really impressive
display in an even more impressive building (overlooking the huge Caulder
mobile that was welded together by the local Boeing folks because the city
powers were terrified by the prospect of something that size, and overhead,
MOVING - but that's another story). The noise problem in this case was the
tuner. The poor soul who put in the very long day and a half before me was
assaulted at three minute intervals by the denizens of the facility
complaining about the noise HE was making. Seems he was breaking their
concentration as they were working on their "pound of flesh" interest
computations and foreclosure paperwork. They had him spreading moving pads
under pianos being tuned and tuning as "softly" as possible to minimize
their disturbance, and generally hassled him about the noise through the
entire time he was there. When I arrived Wednesday at noon, the poor guy
looked like he had really been through the wringer, and couldn't wait to
get the H*** out of there. He wished me luck, gave me the LIST of pianos
done, and yet to do, with a brief outline of the tuning priorities - grands
first, then representative samples of each vertical model, filling in
duplicates as time allows. He wished me luck with the noise vigilantes and
took off for home, leaving all the 1098s for me.

I started tuning at noon on Wednesday, proceeding in what, for me, is a
normal manner of making a considerable amount of noise waling away on one
of the verticals. The first thing I noticed was that there was a 5-8 second
series of echos in the area the produced roughly the effect of tuning under
a half dozen ceiling fans at once. Charming! The ear plugs proved to help
some, but I determined pretty early on that this wasn't going to prove to
be my favorite tuning venue. I made it to about half way through my third
tuning before the complaints started coming in. I assume they looked me
over for awhile from the mezzanine, rating the possible negative
ramifications of engagement, before they ventured the first move.
Interestingly enough, the more negative comments were shouted anonymously
from above, while the people who actually walked past me and commented face
to face on my noise level were much more civil. Musing that I might be
scarier looking that I really am, I replied with the typical dumb jokes and
light banter, and pressed on. Life was relatively good, if one could
overlook that bloody echo, and I got nine done before I crapped out for the
evening.

Thursday was another day altogether. Having scoped me out Wednesday
afternoon and deciding I was pretty harmless, the building tenants attacked
in earnest almost immediately. I quickly ran out of light banter type
replies to the mysterious and anonymous abuse from above before I finished
the first tuning. Most of the way through the second tuning, I had worked
out a reply for the next complaint, but I never got a chance to use it. The
area MANAGER stalked over and DEMANDED that I stop IMMEDIATELY! We talked
for a bit and I indicated that leaving a piano unfinished was not an
option, and I intended to finish the one I was working on. He conceded,
reluctantly, with the observation that the lynch mob was forming as we
spoke. I indicated that I had a tuning fork, and wasn't afraid to use it if
necessary, but I should be done and out of the way before they got the
torches lit and the noose knotted. That either appeased, or confused him,
and he went on about his business of managing the lobby area. Thus, the
eight or nine I had planned to get done Thursday was truncated to two, and
I actually got to eat lunch that day.

Just in case any of you find yourself in this position some day, I'll pass
on the conversation stopper I didn't get to use this time. The next person
that asked "When are you going to stop making that noise?", I was going to
answer "Never, not for all eternity. You died in your sleep last night and
this is where you ended up. Good morning!"

Maybe it's just me.

Ron N