By George, I think she's got it!

Notwithstanding the reference to My Fair Lady, for which I'm now in rehearsals, last evening with Zelda was a bit of success story. I was up with her (again) until 3 AM until there was a (nearly) perfectly tuned piano raised to A440 pitch. And when I returned to the keyboard this morning 95% of the tuning had held. She still couldn't pass herself off as Hungarian royalty as in the case of Eliza Doolittle; but now that you can hear what her potential is, it's pretty clear that her lineage is a cut above the ordinary. As I mentioned before -- good bones.

Since this was the third round of her pitch raising in less than a week, I'm relieved that I can just let her be for a few days while I learn a bit more about the the whole tuning process. (As I'm sure is Ranger, who heads for secure places out of earshot when I'm working on her. Yesterday I found him on a shelf tucked behind my camera case.) And given all the stress I've put her through it's probably better not to keep pushing the limits until she's had a little time to become accustomed to her new sound.

She is, after all, nearly a 100 years old. At 61 my bones ache and pop after each day's work. I can only imagine the tension I've added to her frame during this weeklong workout. There definitely was a bit of groaning in the process.

The first two pitch raisings were pretty rough -- just approximate. But yesterday, after I'd set my A47 to 440, I took the time to carefully reset the entire temperament, using the Defebaugh "F-F" temperament and the Potter "F-A" temperament with its tests as a double check. Because I didn't want to go through another huge marathon pitch raising, I managed to get every note in the temperament perfect before I spread it through the rest of the piano. When the mid-range is in tune like that, it becomes very easy to hear the extreme treble since you can test it against against any number of interval progressions to double check the accuracy of your work. And, I'm still in awe of how easy it becomes to tune the growly base through the use of partials.

The bottom line is that Zelda sounds pretty darn good at the moment. Treble, mid-range and bass are all clean -- she has more of crystalline sound now, if there is such a thing.

The downside of being in tune is that it's now more obvious where other problem areas lie. Though I'm not yet far enough along in my studies to diagnose all that ails her, it's pretty clear there are some strings that are overly rusted and have a brittle and/or tinny sound. I suspect I've just scratched the surface of her troubles. Nonetheless, it all appears -- so far -- to be relatively cosmetic -- a poor string here, some sticking keys, a broken action, hardened felts, etc. Hopefully, no major surgery will be required.

The other major milestone yesterday in my quest to become a registered piano technician was sending in my first taped exams. These were the "unison" tests. And, of course, I did them before the temperament was corrected. Probably not the smartest thing. Hopefully, it shouldn't be a major problem in evaluating how well I did. But a few of the notes I was tuning definitely had false beats in them creating a bit of a "wobble" regardless of how pure the unisons were. To be determined -- that's why I'm sending the tapes to the experts.

Raising the bar (and biting my nails)

Up to 2 AM this morning with Zelda. I'm biting the bullet and raising her (gently) to pitch. After 40-50 (who really knows) years of being tuned a half pitch low when she was tuned at all, she's groaning a bit. But for the most part holding. Thank goodness, good bones.

I finished all the tenor and treble sections yesterday. Today's my day off so before I run off to Marathon to help with their production of the Messiah this evening, I'm going to work on the bass this morning, then hopefully retune everything that's dropped during the day.

It may take three or four more adjustments before she can hold everything; so it's quite a process. But exciting to hear her come back alive.

The old girl has ghosts...

This will be just a short post; but two evenings ago I learned about Zelda's ghosts.

It's a good thing. I'm all jazzed up about it.

I've always wondered how tuners could hear how to tune the growly, rumbling bass strings. You can definitely hear when they are out of tune; but there's so much going on and so many overtones that -- at least for me -- it's hard to hear what exactly it is that you're tuning. That's where ghost tones come in.

Turns out that each bass string has a number of ghost tones -- more correctly, partials. When you strike a bass note you're hearing not only the fundamental note; but a series of partials embedded in the same string -- up to ten (ghost tones) partials to be exact; but primarily the next two octaves up (2nd & 4th partials) and a twelfth (3rd partial).

By holding the bass note down silently and striking the 2nd, 3rd & 4th partials independently, they will sound in the the unstruck bass string -- and, by isolating the partials you can hear whether or not the bass note is in tune. In essence, tune the partials correctly and you've tuned the fundamental sound.

I suppose that's old hat to those who've been tuning for a long time; but I was so excited about learning this that I went on a bass tuning rampage with Zelda. It's amazing. There are now crystal clear tones throughout the bass. Octaves sound perfectly together and the piano has a new depth. The rumble is gone.

That's the good news. The bad news is once the indeterminate growling vanished, it became clear there are a few notes that are of poor quality and out of character with the rest of piano. Most of the bass is rich and sonorous now. But some pop out as having a different "buzzing" quality without the depth. I suppose, in some ways, that's good news as well since I can now differentiate which notes need further attention.

On to the next step -- more reading and learning to discover possible causes -- and then make the necessary adjustments as I'm able.

But for now, I'm just happy to know about Zelda's ghosts.

Life Intervenes

The last post was shortly before I left Key West for a week away to visit my sister in Tennessee, view some fall color for the first time in years and come back to get settled into the cottage with Zelda (the piano) and Ranger(the cat).

Despite being attacked by bedbugs (40 plus bites) and having to leave the Days Inn on Interstate 75 in Atlanta at 4:30 AM with no sleep after being on the road 16 hours straight, I did make it to Eastern Tennessee Wednesday morning, Oct. 21. Lots of itching for the next three days (thank goodness I had a supply of Zyrtec on hand) but it didn't take away from a wonderful visit with my sis and her partner.

The autumn leaves were at their prime in the Smokies. We took two hikes plus a drive through Cades Cove with thousands of other leaf gawkers. Despite the traffic (when did that become part of getting out to enjoy nature?), we spotted wild turkey, bucks with their antlers full grown, and -- of course -- more of God's color spectacle than I could have hoped for. My absolute favorite was a golden grove of maples. Any direction you looked -- forest carpet, forest canopy or through the forest -- gold was everwhere. Simply breathtaking.

My sister also gave me the opportunity to hob nob with the Tennessee Volunteers athletic elite. As a donor to their athletic program, she was invited to a reception at Tennessee's Neyland stadium. The ostensible purpose was to say 'thanks' to donors and show off the new lounge for corporate big wigs; but, of course, the real purpose was to pluck a few more feathers from the assembled turkeys for the continued renovation of the stadium -- only one more phase to go before completion! When the words $225,000,000 and Mother Theresa glibly rolled off the development director's tongue in the same sentence, both my sister and I couldn't help but roll our eyes.

Still, they made a great picture of us at the stadium -- you'll probably never see me in that context again. The scale of the place is a bit overwhelming -- especially when you realize you could put the entire population of the Florida Keys there and still have empty seats everywhere.

The drive back was quiet and Zen like. I stopped in Orlando to see my friend Tom Dyer, publisher of the journal Watermark, for whom I was one the initial investors and writers fifteen years ago. It's still a great paper and he continues to keep it going through both tough times and good. More importantly, it was just great to renew our friendship.

Got back to Key West finally around 1 AM Tuesday, Nov 3rd. Spent the next two days re-connecting with Ranger and making the move to the cottage --- in time for my first house guests Joey & Aiden from Boston. Unfortunately, for me (and probably for them) I'd managed to come down with some version of the flu and spent most of the weekend they were here in bed breaking a fever. They were troopers and managed to navigate pretty well on their own. And, hopefully, I'll be able to renew the friendship under better circumstances at some point the future.

Despite the continued crud from the bout with flu, I'm slowly getting back into my regular schedule -- work, chorale, volunteering for MCC and, importantly, the piano studies. I'm hopeful I'll be able to send in my second exam by the weekend after Thanksgiving. Still some additional practice tunings to go before I send in the tape -- but my unisons are beginning to sound pretty good -- let's hope the instructor agrees. (BTW I did get 100% on my first exam.)

So, I'm not exactly as far along as I'd like to be with the piano studies but life has intervened with a few sidetracks. As a friend once told me, life is all about learning how to manage Plan B.

Some quality time ...

It's been a while since I've been able to post anything as there has been a comedy of errors with Comcast (my primary Internet service provider).

First there was an "area wide outage" which went on interminably. Finally, I couldn't believe an area blackout could go on for over five days so I kept pressing the buttons for customer service despite the admonitions that it was unnecessary. After getting through, I was told the outage was no more so there must be a problem with my modem (which had just been serviced two weeks before).

A technician was scheduled to come out the next afternoon. I waited until 6 PM and called "hey, is the technician still coming?" The response was "oh, we canceled your service call as there is an area wide outage." No need to tell you what I was thinking about Comcast at that moment.

I entered the weekend without service. On Monday morning just as I'm settling in at work I get a call from a Comcast service technician, "I'm at your house, why aren't you?" Apparently, the canceled service call had been rescheduled -- but without informing me. I asked her to get started and I'd get there as soon as my boss showed up for work -- he was, of course, 45 minutes late. I called to say I was running late and the Comcast technician informed me she'd found the problem: AT&T had cut the line on the roof when they were repairing their line.

All that took eight days -- hence no posts.

On to quality time with Zelda...

From the beginning, I knew that Zelda would not be playable until her lyre was repaired. One of the supporting pegs had broken and the base had dropped over an inch thereby ensuring that none of the rods in the lyre touched any of the working pedal parts.

The first step last night was to take the lyre off the piano and take it apart so it could be reassembled. Given my limited knowledge base at this point my mantra with Zelda is "do no harm." So I'm trying to do everything in a manner that is reversible. However, the broken posts required a substantive fix -- so once the bad ends had been sanded down out came the heavy duty epoxy -- not reversible. Hopefully, future fixes won't have to be so drastic.

Tonight I decided to strip the old black varnish off the lyre before it was reinstalled. Another mystery solved -- Zelda's cabinet is definitely mahogany, not walnut. But given that it took three hours just to strip (will save the refinishing for later once I make some other decisions) the lyre -- I looked at the rest of the cabinet with some awe and humility. Bringing Zelda back to her former glory may be more than just a winter's project. This is going to take some real time and patience.

Beginning to work on Zelda is somewhat similar to starting a new relationship -- you discover things you love -- and others that are challenges.

Tonight when I finally got the lyre reinstalled, I discovered that the center pedal is a true sostenuto. Wow, I've never had a piano before that had that feature -- it's something that you find in only the finest of instruments. Chalk one up for Zelda's good bones!

On the other hand, her appearance of being in relatively good tune is smoke and mirrors. I checked the A49 key against the tuning fork. Zelda is more or less in tune with herself but is slightly over a half pitch flat throughout the instrument. She hasn't seen A440 in a long time.

Panic! Given Zelda's age would it overstress her to bring her up to pitch?!? Am I stuck with an eternally out-of-pitch antique?

So I e-mailed Randy Potter, the founder and principal teacher, of the piano tuning and technical school I've just started with. I really didn't expect a reply for quite a while; but came home this evening to find a long, detailed response. He assured me that in the 33 years and over 10,000 pianos he'd tuned, he'd only found ten that couldn't be brought up to pitch safely. None of the qualifiers applied to Zelda.

He did, however, have a few choice words for Zelda's former tuners - my future competition. The one I can repeat is "schlock". The instrument should never have been allowed to get that far below pitch. Apparently a lot of so-called tuners tell people that older instruments can't be raised when in reality it's an excuse for shoddy work and a quick buck.

Relief! It'll be a while before I'm ready to take on that task; but at least I know it can be done.

So continues what will -- no doubt -- be a long relationship.

And so it begins...

Yesterday afternoon an e-mail from the United States postal service popped up announcing the first package from Randy Potters School of Piano Technology had arrived. I took a quick ten-minute break from work to run over to the post office.

A very large priority mail was waiting. But back to work I had to go. So the opening had to be delayed until after dinner and a shower.

There's a lot of material to be covered. So much that it took a good part of last evening and most of the afternoon and evening after work today to get it organized. I bought a huge binder for the "extra" material thrown in. And since I tend to misplace things unless I make a place, I also purchased a tool case for the initial tuning tools included with the course materials plus the ones the text suggests you acquire from the local hadware store.

And -- of course -- it's a bit humbling. There's so much detailed material to learn it's pretty obvious that the road to becoming a RPT (registered piano technician) is going to have some bumps along the way. On the other hand, it was all I could do to force myself to go to bed last night. I just kept reading, sorting and organizing -- then reading some more. The more I read the more I realized I've found something that I'm going to enjoy doing. I love the fact, as well, that it's a skill that's transportable. Once mastered, it's something you can make a living at regardless of where you live.

Despite staying up much too late last night reading and not getting my usual sleep quota, I woke refreshed this morning, did my new yoga routine (despite the fact that Ranger continues to believe the yoga mat is something to burrow under) and my usual meditation and reading from the Daily Word.

It's often the case when I'm reading the Daily Word that it seems like someone has written it for my unique situation. I suppose what that actually speaks to is the universality of what we all experience as we make our journey on this planet. Nonetheless, today's reading was so pointed at what I'm experiencing that much of it bears repeating.

I have journeyed to a crossroads of opportunity. This is a place for me to pause and reflect upon the road I have been traveling and the choice that lies ahead.

I imagine that I have just walked through the desert and have now reached an oasis with refreshing water, a cool breeze and a hammock tied between two shade-giving trees. I have reached a welcome refuge.

I experience this kind of an oasis when I let go of personal striving--trying to do it all myself--and let God guide me. A sense of calm washes over me as I release my concerns and trust that God will show me the way.

I pause, I listen and I discern the guidance I have been seeking. Following the guidance I receive leads me to my greater good.

Receiving that package in the mail yesterday with all its potential made me realize I've been wandering in the desert for a long time. Today's sorting and organizing was rest for me, an oasis of calm. And while there's a long road ahead to get to the next career, it no longer seems so daunting or hopeless.

Zelda Gets A Roommate

The past week has been anticipatory in many respects. The pieces for becoming a Registered Piano Technician are beginning to fall into place. Yet until the lessons from the Randy Potter School start showing up there will be no way to track progress to the next career. So for now there's reading, dreaming and putting out good intentions.

Nonetheless, the week had several red letter moments.

Arthur Reblitz' book Piano Servicing, Tuning, and Rebuilding arrived. So I've started doing what reading I can in the absence of Zelda (the lease for the cottage where she resides doesn't begin until November 1st). Some of the theory part is familiar territory, but bears repeating. The mechanical information is all new -- and will, undoubtedly, only begin to make sense at the point I have tools and some pianos to work with.

Even before I move in with Zelda I'm pretty sure I can remedy the needy piano situation. The local community college has three practice rooms with Baldwin consoles that currently are painful to play. I'm pretty sure I can cut a deal with the faculty there to tune them gratis. The same is true of my church, which has a nice 7' grand suffering from constant changes of humidity and heat -- no air conditioning in the sanctuary during the week.

Very importantly, on Wednesday September 16 I made my leap of faith. I sent the major downpayment to the Randy Potter School of Piano Technology. Hopefully, the first course installments and the basic tools will show up within the next two weeks.

On that same day two other important things happened that will, I believe, help ground me over the next few months.

My friend Stephen was visiting that day from Palm Springs. He's already an accomplished yoga master in the Bikram practice. Recently, he decided to make his own leap of faith and become certified in the Shakti (hopefully, that's correct) school -- a gentler type of yoga practice. So, like me he's taking time out to re-school himself here in Florida where there's a well-regarded school. In addition to having one of the best days off I've had in months while he was visiting, he also taught me some basic postures to help start my day. I'm spending twenty minutes each morning with the postures. In just the four days since he returned to Miami, I can already tell a huge difference. I'm more limber and, well, I'm starting out each day with what I can only term a calm state of mind.

The second non-piano, but grounding, event was Ranger came into my life on Wednesday. He'll be Zelda's roommate when we finally get to move into the cottage in November.

Ranger is his own little miracle. He's a Maine coon cat who was found by the roadside in February, starving, covered in scabs and hardly a hair left on his body. Rather than put him down some incredible person at the shelter in Marathon decided he deserved a second chance. They brought him back from the brink over a seven month period and put him up for adoption. Somehow word got out that I had once had a Maine coon cat and several people conspired that this kitty should become my charge. The adoption was made formal on Wednesday. He spent the first two hours hiding under and inbetween the mattress of the day bed. But after those few hours of "what now" he realized he's got a cool place to live and a very loving companion / food source. It's all I can do to keep from tripping on him. He's almost more like a dog in that he follows me everywhere in the house, sits on my lap the moment I'm seated and sleeps on my feet at night. I think we're going to be very good for each other.

It's all happening very quickly -- cottage, Zelda, the yoga practice, making the first steps to the new career with reading and the downpayment -- and, of course, Zelda's new roommate Ranger.

Sight Unseen

Zelda will celebrate her 100th birthday next year. I've promised her she will sing again on her big day. Her high notes will tickle the ears and her lows will roar. Her middle register will be sonorous, mellow yet bold.

You see Zelda is a 5'2" Knabe baby grand, serial number 68717, born 1910 in Baltimore, Maryland. Her finish is so distressed from time it's difficult at present to discern whether she's mahogany or walnut; but her bones are good. When you climb underneath it's easy to see a sound board in near perfect condition, slightly bowed upward as it should and verified by a voice almost human in quality. Not surprisingly, she is a bit out of tune. Her ivory keys have mellowed over the years to a light cream. The action is uneven. And, alas, her lyre has dropped to the floor. Currently, the sustain, sostenuto and piano pedals are only a promise, not a reality. Ah, but her harp is still golden. Despite her age there's hardly a bit of dust inside. I think someone may have loved her once.

Zelda came into my life on September 2nd quite unexpectedly -- and sight unseen.

I've been looking for an affordable place here in Key West for several months, not an easy task. And thought I'd found it early in August -- a sweet little three-room cottage -- only to discover it had been rented the day before I called my friend Connie, who is the owner. Several weeks went by as I continued my search.Then one Sunday morning the person who had rented it asked me if I knew yet where I would be living. As it turned out, he had decided to back out of the deal. He really didn't have confidence Connie could clear out the place in time for his move date -- besides half the front room was taken up (as he put it) by this ghastly old piano she couldn't even give away.

My ears perked up! I called the next day and arranged to meet Connie at the cottage on Wednesday, September 2nd. Zelda did indeed loom large in the cozy room as we talked about the possibility and timing for a lease agreement. But priority number one was to secure the cottage before someone else walked in and swooped it away from me. And, honestly, though I hadn't heard her voice it was if I could hear Zelda croon from the corner where she was covered in boxes "buy me, buy me, too."

I did. Once the handshake was made for leasing the cottage, I offered to buy Zelda on the spot so she could stay in her home. I brought Connie a check for Zelda before I had ever opened her lid or climbed under her soundboard.

On the surface of things buying Zelda sight unseen is a horrible business decision -- I can hardly afford her. But her silent voice kept singing in my mind. Only after the check changed hands did I take the boxes off the cover and touch her keys. Though frail, she still has a voice -- one I'm certain can be strong and sure again.

But no one in the Keys is qualified to restore Zelda. The closest registered piano technician is 150 miles away in Miami. In fact there are only 18 such people in all South Florida. So even if I could afford to pay someone to do the work, it simply isn't a logistic possibility. The only way she's going to get her voice back is if I learn how to do all the work. And since she's an old girl, the work needs to be not only gentle but perfect.

The night after I gave Connie the check for Zelda I simply couldn't sleep. The words kept drumming in my head, "I have a piano again." But restoring her is going to be a monumental effort. Then it dawned on me -- Zelda wasn't singing just to save her. She was singing to save me. Restoring her voice will give me all the skills I need to re-create myself over the next few months. It will, I believe, give me the next career I've been searching for.

It was 09/09/09. Not being able to sleep forced me out of bed. I started looking through domain registries for a name...the first I thought of -- keystuning.com -- was available. I bought it without even knowing what I would do with it.

Then obsession. How can I learn how to make Zelda sing? The only answer; I have to become a registered piano tuner and technician myself. So I've been researching different schools, reading about the Piano Technicans Guild over the past few days. And I've made a decision --over the next year, not only am I going to give Zelda back her voice; I'm going to reclaim my life.

So I've writtten another check. Again, one I can barely afford, but I've a feeling it's going to be one of the best investments I've made for years. It's a check to the Randy Potter School of Piano Technology -- sounds hokey -- but from everything I've read, short of being in residence for learning the trade, it's the best thing of its kind out there. I'm waiting a few days to mail it just to make sure I really haven't gone mad. But there's something that tells me learning to save Zelda is really all about saving myself -- sight unseen.

By the way, we start co-habitation on November 3rd.