Johnny "Angel"

     Today, as I stood near the piano with a tape measure in hand, thinking how to get home with this second-hand treasure, I wondered if I had taken on too much of a challenge:  "57 3/4 L X 24" D X 36 1/2" H" and approximately 400 lbs. 

     On the brink of my dilemma (of how to get the piano home), my enthusiasm began to fade rehearsing phone calls to piano movers to gather estimates, looking at YouTube videos about what it takes to move a piano, and googeling similar items and prices.  I started to think maybe my unexpected find was beyond my reach for several reasons: 

     What if it was too far out of tune to be a decent piano?  How often would it need to be tuned?  Or moved?  I  first thought a friend with a pickup would be enough to help us get it home.  But suddenly, I was having a crash course in pianos: something I had always dreamed of owning, but I had never looked into realistically.  

     For myself, I might have passed.  But for my daughter, who has always wanted to learn how to play the piano, I didn't have the heart to pass it up.  

     The scenes of the past six months ran through my mind like cards being shuffled by a card shark.  Her father barely survived a suicide attempt in June.  She barely survived her 21st birthday in August and spent days in a crisis center recovering.  Her beautiful calico kitten, adopted after she got home from the crisis center, was killed by a horrible attack from two dogs due to a negligent roommate, which ended their year long relationship.  She almost lost her job due to the effects of new medicine, ongoing panic attacks and depression, and an escalating abusive relationship. Then in November, we lost her dad due to a heroin overdose.  He had been struggling to overcome his addiction for a while.  Being in physical pain with no health care alternatives, as well as the loss of his girlfriend in the last year to an overdose; as Shakespeare says, "misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows."  She lost almost everything dear to her, on top of dealing with my diagnosis of stage IV breast cancer.  

     What would it mean to her to wake up on Christmas morning, facing all she has been through recently, to something that could ease her pain and give her something pleasant to focus on that can actually help her to develop healthy coping skills?  Music, like art, is a good start.  (I also got her a new turntable; but, playing the piano is a more creative form of therapy which involves eyes, ears, hands, feet, and heart.)  That's why I decided to buy the piano.

     Mesmerized in thoughts, I circled like a hawk unsure where to land for a few minutes and then came back to the piano wondering what was I thinking trying to buy a piano and how to bring it home.  One of the employees nearby began to tell me how great a condition the piano was in.  While I listened, my eye caught sight of someone approaching behind her with a pink electric guitar over his shoulder.  (As a breast cancer survivor, this put a smile on my face.)  He caught my eye too, because he looked like someone I would have known, tattoos all down his arms, long hair pulled back, gauged ear plugs, and he walked with an air about him, as an intelligent and artistic musician.  

     He came up and (looking admiringly at the piano) asked if I had bought it.  I said, "yes, and by the way, nice guitar!"  He seemed to know about keyboard instruments and mentioned he has several.  He asked if I had a way to move it and I said I wasn't sure yet.  So far nothing had been decided.  He then offered to help me get it home!  He said he has moved many of his own organs and pianos of similar size.  He also had a Suburban and said he'd be glad to move it for me with the help of one of his friends, or if his friend wasn't available, he felt sure he could find someone from around the UCO campus to help.  (He was an art major at UCO and graduated in 2010.)  

      I was so amazed that someone would consider helping, even after telling him it probably weighed 400 lbs.  We exchanged numbers and he said his name was Johnny.  I said I would be able to pay him something for helping me although it wasn't much compared to the price of a piano mover.  He didn't mind at all, he said he just wanted to help.  

      We met at the store after his friend got off work and they managed to get the piano loaded into the Suburban.  It wasn't as difficult getting it loaded since the store had some flats with rollers and some additional help lifting.  But the bigger challenge came when we got to my apartment, with only the two of them to get the piano out of the Suburban and into the apartment.

     They made it safely over the first hurdle, getting the piano out of the Suburban, (and only one smashed finger).  I was thinking, "What do I have that they could roll the piano on?"  Just as I asked whether I could find something to set the piano on, Johnny said, "I have a skateboard."  I said, "Oh Yes!  So do I!"  The excitement was mutual, not only that there was suddenly a way to move the piano through the parking lot to the apartment on rollers, but also because we were excited to know that we both have skateboards!!

      It worked incredibly well!  We skate-boarded the piano all the way to the (two) steps, then had to maneuver it again once it was on the porch.  I was so thrilled not only to have my piano moved, but to have it delivered with such artistic style!  'Cause, as Johnny said, "That's the way we roll!"

      When we got the piano inside the apartment, they were careful to put everything in place and to instruct me how to replace a screw that was missing on one side.  As Johnny looked around the room for a moment, he said, "you must be an art major."  I said, "Yes, I was an art major, but then I changed to English."  He said he got his degree in art hoping to be an art teacher, but now it will require more than his art degree to teach.  In the meantime, he's working random jobs after graduating until he can pass more tests and get an additional degree.  Then he said, "when I saw you standing there by the piano, something just told me, God told me, to come and help you."  Then he said, "I could also tell you were pretty cool" (i.e. not a square).  Nice.  God definitely knows how to make the scene - being in the right place at the right time!  And I also realized,  musicians with guitars are sometimes like angels with wings.  With that in mind, our dreams are never too big!

Johnny "Angel"

     (The photos on this post are generic this time but nearly identical to the originals, my camera is broken on my phone due to water damage - it ended up in a cup of water, submerged for - not sure how long - or I would have taken many pictures today!)