Nov 17, 2014 3 min read

A month or so ago, I detailed for you all how I was fortunate enough to become the owner of my mother’s piano. I defended my decision to encourage (we’ll call it encouragement, though it may have been more like nagging) my husband to pull off of his barn roof repair to move the piano into our living room. 

I bought gift cards for the guys that I roped into moving the piano and had a piano tuner scheduled to come out. I was super excited and imagined my kids plunking the same keys that my mom had, and her mom before her.

The morning the tuner arrived, I held my breath. I was sure that it would take some work, but I was prepared to see it through. His diagnosis was not positive, however, and he informed me that the piano was in dire straits.

The pins that hold the strings, he told me, weren’t tightly fit into the pin board anymore due to the board having some dry rot. The strings were fairly rusty and would be inclined to snap if tightened too far. The player piano was missing some significant pieces and would be quite a financial burden to have restored. The cost to have the entire piano restrung and have new pins installed would be quite expensive, as well.

I began to rethink my dedication to the piano.

My uncle suggested that I get a second opinion before making any decisions, so I called a second tuner. This time, I kind of hoped for the best, but didn’t hold my breath. I was less shocked when he confirmed the first diagnosis, although his estimate for what the piano needed to return to a working order was substantially less work and about one-third of the other estimate.

Despite that fact, the tuner told me that the piano wasn’t worth putting even the lesser amount into, as the total value of the instrument was under $100. He recommended I dispose of the old piano and shop for a newer model. He also recommended that I have a tuner come out and check it over before I buy it and pay anyone to move it. (Sound advice I wish I had heard prior to becoming the owner of an 800-pound paperweight.)

As disappointing as the whole endeavor has been, at least we know for sure that the old girl has outlived her best days. We know with certainty that as lovely as she is on the outside, with all of her dark varnish and sultry curves, her insides leave a lot to be desired and lack the substance we require.

I can tell you that my husband has been a doll throughout the entire endeavor. Not one time has he grumbled about having to move a “junk piano,” or taunted how he “told me so.” He actually seemed disappointed that it was deemed unworthy of repair.

Perhaps he has the inner substance that the piano lacks? I’ll leave that unanswered until after he moves it again, this time back out of the house.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.