My Beautiful Wickedness

My brain obsessed.
February 22, 2009, 6:05 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Last night, I tossed and turned all night worried in my dreams that I could not get our
baby grand (the largest that Steinway has ever made, so more like a grand, really) out of my grandmother’s cabin. The upper rooms were built as a shelter from attack in the 1790s. The
door into the upper rooms are about 4 feet high and 3 feet wide. There are two very small
windows, suitable for pointing a gun out them. How we ever got the piano in there in
the first place is more than I knew, but how to get it out again was an agonizing and unsolved problem.

What the hell does that even mean?


14 Comments so far
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How did they get it in there?

Comment by democommie

I dunno. I think they must have gotten it in (according to my brain) when the roof was off a couple of years ago, but how I thought that they got a crane up the holler to do the job was more than I know.

Comment by bridgett

You’re ususally ahead of me on this stuff, but is there any chance the piano case is small enough if the legs are removed? We used to have a Steinway upright in my house (my dad’s mom got it in about 1920) and that thing was heavy.

Comment by democommie

Demo, this is just something that happened in my dream. In reality, there’s no piano to remove — it’s sitting safe and sound in my living room.

Comment by bridgett

If it were a real problem to solve, I really would have to take the roof off. The case is both too long to turn on the narrow stair and too large to fit through the door, even with the legs off.

Comment by bridgett

Paint me red! So, since it’s a dream, I’d call in the USA’s combat engineers with a heavy lift capable helicopter and remove the roof, pluck out the piano and replace the roof, without leaving any ruts in the flowerbeds!

Comment by democommie

I think I’ll prevail on unicorn magic. Seems much more straightforward.

Comment by bridgett

Is the piano really an inheritance? It’s a beautiful metaphor.

Comment by nm

In real life, yes, the piano is an inheritance, but from my husband’s side of the family. My husband’s grandfather bought it from the Steinway floor for his daughters to play. It then went to one of the daughters for her daughters to play and now it’s with John for his daughter to play. When our daughter gets done with it, it will be passed on to another little girl on his side of the family.

As far as I know, the cabin belonged to non-musical folks. I know that they hired local bands to play for dances on the grounds and there has always been a lot of singing, but no one played any instruments. (My dad’s family are the noteworthy string instrumentalists and I’m related to about half of the people performing in bluegrass east of the Mississippi.) No keyboards, though. That was for rich people.

Comment by bridgett

Wow. You could be unpicking that dream for a long time, if you wanted to.

I’m a bit jealous of all those concrete, physical inheritances. I have nothing from my great-grandparents’ time except one painting and two tea towels. And what bothers me most is that I didn’t even have to discuss who would get them — my sisters aren’t interested.

Comment by nm

I didn’t know you had a piano….. 🙂 And yes, the roof seems the only sensible way of egress.

Comment by imfunny2

Our family’s ocean diaspora happened a hundred years before the last iteration of your family’s journey. That gave them time to collect stuff (and in the case of the cabin, to settle a place that no one else wanted and that was too far up a holler to burn down during the anti-Catholic riots in the area). My husband’s family has some money, so the artifacts can be very nice or ugly/burdensome/freighted with other people’s memories and expectations that you’ll display Uncle So-and-So’s three-handled moss-covered credunza in your front room when you think it’s ugly as sin but not half so much fun. So, it’s a mixed bag. It’s kind of a relief to only have one branch of the family that had anything to pass off, as you get to make your own life.

Comment by bridgett

Oh, doubtless I’d feel utterly burdened if I had too many heirlooms. My father’s parents left a (very expensive but probably not salable, because personalized) china service that none of my sisters or I can stomach. And I know I took a bunch of table linens from my mother-in-law that I had no intention of ever using, just to make her feel good. But I can’t help feel that there ought to have been a tad more accumulation over three generations. The tea towels, though, are from the old country, which I find very cool.

Comment by nm

From my great-granparents I got a drop or two of Wadsworth bloods, from my grand-parents I got zip, from my own folks–a few photos and a unit insignia done in leather from my dad’s tour in the CBI theater during WWII. And, about six months before she passed my mom gave me an envelope with photos of me through the years and EVERY card and letter I had ever sent her. I have 10 siblings and she did this for all of us.

Comment by democommie

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