COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP

One summer afternoon, about thirty five years ago, I was tuning a piano in a middle class suburban home, when a gruff voice, aided by a bull horn, barked, "WE HAVE THE HOUSE SURROUNDED, COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" I glanced out the window to see dozens of police cars forming a barricade around the house, with an army of police officers and federal agents brandishing enough weapons to arm a small third world country. I immediately dove under the grand piano. My first thought was that the lawmen had the wrong address. I had tuned the piano many times for this pleasant couple in their early sixties, and, their bachelor son in his forties, who still lived at home. Imagine my surprise when this seemingly normal family started pulling weapons of their own out of closets and from behind draperies! After peering out many windows, and accessing the situation, "Ma Barker" and her gang decided that they were out numbered and the best course of action was to give themselves up. The most chilling thing about the situation, besides my life flashing before my eyes, was how calm the family was and how quickly they reacted to the situation. This was like a normal day at the office to them. Under the piano, I was shaking like a frightened child. The son directed me to follow them out the front door with my hands up as the father waived a few sheets of white paper towel out the front door and shouted, "We are coming out. We are unarmed." We paraded down the front walk hands high in the air, dad still holding the paper towels in one hand. It was dad, mom, me, and the son bringing up the rear. It seemed like a hundred guns were trained on us. I remember thinking, if a car backfires a block away, we'll be cut down in a rain of bullets! Apparently the police knew this family and expected only three people to come out of the house, because, I could hear voices saying things like, "who's the fat guy?" The fat guy, of course, was me. I was actually relived when, at some point, a bunch of cops grabbed me, threw me onto a car hood, and handcuffed me in one smooth motion. All I could think of was that I was still alive. After giving a good account of myself I was released and escorted back into the house to retrieve my tools. It was on this walk that the officers told me this family were major drug distributors who supplied the local street dealers in the area. I had no idea. I thought I might be called upon at some point to testify at a trial or something, not that I knew anything, but, nothing ever happened. Aside form the arrest, nothing ever showed up in the news about a trial or the family. I guess they cut some kind of deal. Of course the news media at the scene tried to interview me, but, I just waived them off with a terse "no comment." I always wanted to say that.

WORLD TRADE CENTER TWIN TOWERS 911 MEMORIES

Save for some professional musicians and institutional clients, no one takes a day off from work to have their piano tuned and serviced.  If you are going to be a successful full time piano technician you must reconcile yourself to working evenings and Saturdays. Due to my work hours I got into the habit of going to bed in the wee hours of the morning and rolling out of bed in the early afternoon.  On a day when I arise early I quip, " I was up at the crack of noon."  On September 11th, 2001 I was putting on my morning coffee and checking phone messages as my TV in the living room was showing what I thought was a Science Fiction movie that  showed airplanes crashing into the World Trade Center Twin Towers.  From the kitchen I could not hear the audio, only view the screen images.  My attention was caught by the same scene of the airplanes crashing into the towers repeating over and over.  The film must have gotten stuck I reasoned. Someone at the station must be asleep at the switch.  As I walked into the living room to change the channel I finally heard the audio portion of the broadcast.  Horrified by the news, it triggered memories of a short book E.B.White had written in 1949 called HERE IS NEW YORK. Ironically, he predicted such an incident 52 years in advance! I've always been a literature buff, but, I still find it strange that my mind went first to E.B.White.

 My grandmother Christine sang with the London Opera Company and the singers continued to perform during the devastating "London Blitz" of World War Two with the intention that it was important to keep up the morale of the public.  I asked her once how she and her family survived the destruction and carnage.  "Well, we just took it as another day," was her reply.  Perhaps the Philadelphia area was too far removed from New York to feel the full impact, or, perhaps my clients had my grandmother's mind set and simply took it as another day, but, not one of my three appointments that day canceled. That being so, I worked.

My second client of the evening was obviously shaken up because she worked in World Trade Center South Tower Two.  Many people in the Philadelphia area commute to New York for work by train or bus to take advantage of the substantially higher pay rate for most jobs. She had taken the day off to have new carpet installed in her home.  All of her co workers died in the terrorist attack.  To this day she still sees a therapist as she suffers from a psychological condition known as "Survivors Guilt."

Several months after what has become known simply as "911" I was servicing a piano for a client who worked in a brokerage house in the North Tower One.  He told me his story of  how he became the lone survivor of about thirty workers at his office.  It seems for several years he had tried to quit smoking.  He tried all the methods and programs, but inevitability, he always went back to cigarettes.  This caused him to have to endure quite a lot of teasing and sarcasm at the hands of his coworkers.  He quit smoking again just a few days before the fatal attack.  He had a habit of coming to the office several hours before everyone else.  When the bulk of the staff showed up each morning at their normal work time he would leave to "take a walk and get a bite of breakfast."  This, of course, was his cover for ducking out to grab a smoke.  He always walked a few blocks away so no one would discover his secret.  As he was lighting up his second cigarette he looked up and saw the airplane crash into Tower One.  He suffers no "Survivors Guilt" and never tried to quit smoking again.  As he said to me, "Who says smoking is bad for your health?"

On the morning of 911 my son-in-law Rick was in San Diego, California aboard an airplane poised to take off and return him, and two business colleagues, to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  Suddenly all the passengers were ushered off of the plane with little explanation other than that there was an "air traffic problem."  Television monitors in the terminal were already showing the Towers crashing down.  Most of the travelers stayed glued to the TV screens, but, Rick and his team moved quickly to get their hotel rooms and rental car back.  After watching all the news coverage, and assessing the situation, Rick's trio made the decision to drive cross country to Philadelphia. The three drove in shifts, one driving, one keeping the driver awake, and one sleeping.  The group traveled 2800 miles in 45 hours.  Their average speed was 62 miles per hour. This was not taking your Grandma for a Sunday drive.

 An early writing teacher gave me a piece of advice I have always followed, "Write about what you know." Since I have no direct experience with the tragic events at Shanksville, Pennsylvania, the Pentagon attack, or, the devastating health issues that befell so many of the First Responders, I choose not to address them.  If the reader is unfamiliar with these other 911 happenings I hope you will look into them.  My omission of them in no way minimizes the importance of those horrific tragedies.

One factor about 911 that took me by surprise was that a large number of the victims left little to no life insurance to provide for their families.  The majority of these victims worked in the finical planning industry. Logic would dictate that, before you invested in your first stock or bond, you would make sure your loved ones were provided for.  In my day life insurance was the first thing a couple purchased, just after the honeymoon. Harry Gross, a noted Philadelphia C.P.A. and investment counselor was fond of saying, "He who has no life insurance doesn't die...he absconds."

Over time, most important holidays such as Memorial Day, Veterans Day, Pearl Harbor Day, Forth Of July, etc. degenerate into days for retailers to have sales, car dealers to trumpet "blow out savings," and the general public to have family parties.  This past 911 several retailers advertised 911 sales with tacky sayings like "towering savings."  Every 911 I watch news videos of that fatal day including the unedited versions of people jumping out of the tower windows and splattering on the sidewalks. Why the news networks don't air these every year is beyond my understanding.  After all, most of us still have the tee shirts and banners with the slogan, "WE WILL NEVER FORGET."

A BIRTHDAY SURPRISE GONE WRONG

I was called by a young woman to tune a piano as a surprise for her mother's fiftieth birthday. It seems her mom had always wanted to learn to play the piano and there was one in the house left over from years earlier when the daughters had unsuccessfully attempted piano lessons of their own. It was arranged for me to come during the birthday party, tune the piano, and play Happy Birthday plus a few of mom's favorite songs, after which, the daughters would present her with a gift certificate for piano lessons. All during the party mom kept an ear out for the door bell, having a suspicion that some surprise person would be arriving. When I rang she ran to the door and swung it wide open. Her face fell as she regarded this old, overweight, mostly bald, guy with a tool bag in hand. She gasped, "YOU CAN'T BE THE STRIPPER!"

NO TIME TO PRACTICE?

I once read a book on time management. The entire book distilled down to this fact: If you have a week to pack for a trip it takes a week. I you have a day it takes a day. If you have an hour, you'll be packed in an hour. The problem with most people, when it comes to practicing the piano, is they allow too much time. Actually THREE MINUTES A DAY is all you need!

Very few pieces of music are longer than three minutes, save for a few of the classics. Therefore, one can practice an entire selection in three minutes or less. Assuming you practice once a day, and assuming, like most people, you have about twenty favorite songs in your repertoire, you will wind up going thru each piece about eighteen times in a year. As you can see, that actually amounts to a lot of practice. This practice method is for those who already know how to play well enough to at least stumble thru a piece. It is not for the student still taking lessons.

Get started by asking yourself, what twenty songs would I want to be able to sit down and play if asked to play in public? Put the music in a stack on top of your piano. If the song is in a book, tape an index tab on to that page, or, photocopy the page out of the book. Each time you practice take the top piece of music off the stack and play it thru ONCE ONLY. Do not stop for mistakes. Do not play it a second time. Set the song you just played on the opposite side of the piano. Next time you practice play the next piece on the stack and transfer it to the played pile. Next time, same action. When all of your music winds up in the played stack, start the stack over again. After a few months of this type of practice, you'll be amazed at how good you get at each piece. After a time, you may remove some songs from your repertoire and add some new ones.

The best way to get your three minutes of practice in each day, is to tie the practice time to something else. Don't eat breakfast until you practice. Don't leave the house, take a shower, etc. I like, don't go to bed. Even if one is two hours past their bedtime, three more minutes is not going to make any difference. If you can honestly say you can not find three minutes in a day to practice, then you need a life coach, or a therapist, because, your life is seriously out of control!

If you need to brush up a bit on your piano skills I highly recommend the book HOW TO PLAY THE PIANO DESPITE YEARS OF LESSONS by Ward Cannel and Fred Marx. Library of Congress catalogue number 76-4037. Each lesson in the book can be accomplished in about three minutes. The book, originally published in 1976 is still the best review method I have seen.

I am often asked how long each day children should practice. Most piano teachers I know go with twenty minutes a day, five days out of seven. This is because children today, due to the entertainment media and computers, have a fairly short attention span. There is no benefit in the body sitting at a piano once the mind has drifted elsewhere. I actually further recommend splitting the twenty minutes practice into two ten minute sessions and tying them to other activities. For instance: right when the child walks in the door from school before any snack, changing clothes, etc. The second ten minutes can be after homework, but, before any leisure activity.

LIBERACE, THE ONE MAN DISNEYLAND!

"I don't give concerts, I put on a show! I play classical music, with the boring parts left out. I'm a one man Disneyland." So said Wladziu Valentino Liberace known to his family as Walter, his friends as Lee, and his fans as Liberace. I had many encounters with Liberace in my career as a piano technician, and, at sales conventions for Baldwin pianos, and, Thomas organs, two instruments he endorsed. My mother was a huge fan, and, for her 65th birthday, Lee was kind enough to give us front row seats for his show, and, also grant my mom a dressing room "audience" afterwards. This was typical of his graciousness. Lee especially loved children, animals, and fans. Unlike other single name mega-stars, Lee typically did not disappear backstage at the end of a show. Rather, he invited fans on stage to touch his costumes and jewelry, take photos, and try their hand at playing his piano. If a person showed any musical promise, Lee would often throw in an impromptu lesson. Someone once correctly wrote that Liberace loved his audience, and they returned that love a hundred fold. That love translated into him being the highest paid entertainer in the world for over two decades!

Liberace was born in 1919 in a suburb of Milwaukee Wisconsin into a musical family of no notoriety. He started piano lessons at age four and early on displayed an amazing ability to memorize long complicated pieces of music. He was classically trained and in his early twenties toured the United States performing with many major symphony orchestras. While still in his teens, to help support his family during the Great Depression, he played popular music for radio dramas, theaters, cabarets, weddings, even strip tease shows. Although his father was Italian, and, only his mother was Polish, Lee considered himself Polish and became enamored with the great pianist Ignaz Paderewski who had a second job as Prime Minister Of Poland. Eventually they met and it is said Paderewski took the young Liberace under his wing, but, to what extent is not clear. By his mid-twenties Lee was referring to his performances as "pop with a bit of the classics." Around age thirty he played The White House at the behest of President Harry S Truman. By age forty it would be a command performance for Queen Elizabeth II. By the time he was thirty four Liberace was earning a million dollars a year. In less than two years more his income rose to approximately four million dollars a year! Not much money by today's standards, but, in the early 1950's it was a king's ransom allowing Lee to live like royalty. The big bump in income was due to his wildly successful television show that aired around 1953 and went on for many years. The show attracted about 30 million viewers a week and received 10,000 fan letters weekly. Liberace had been a headliner in Las Vegas since 1944 where he first appeared with his now trademark candelabrum. He also appeared in many movies. Songwriter Pat Ballard paid homage to Lee's enviable head of hair in the 1954 smash hit by The Chordettes, MISTER SANDMAN. Most people, however, remember Lee's TV show with his violinist elder brother George, and, the signature sign off, Lee singing I'LL BE SEEING YOU. Of course, given Lee's flamboyant costumes, it was one of the early shows to go color. Elton John, then six years old, recalls being fascinated with both Lee's piano ability, and, his costumes. I was also a fan of the show and only realized while viewing old clips of the show to prepare this blog, how much my own piano style had been influenced by Liberace. There are plenty of old clips of THE LIBERACE SHOW on the Internet on sites like U-Tube as well as clips of Lee on ED SULLIVAN, LUCY, JACK BENNY, KOJAK, THE MUPPET SHOW, OPRAH, AND, SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE. They are all worth checking out.

FOLLOWING ARE THE TYPICAL QUESTIONS I AM USUALLY ASKED ABOUT LIBERACE:

HOW GOOD A PIANIST WAS HE REALLY? I have discussed this issue with many top pianists, both popular and classical. Everyone agrees that his technique was almost effortless to the point that he made even difficult pieces look a lot easier to play than they actually were. A world renowned concert pianist recently told, me off the record, that he felt that Liberace could give most concert pianists a good run for their money playing the classics, and yet, turn right around and play ragtime, blues, country, rock and roll, or, almost anything else he pleased. He speculated that few pianists have mastered the instrument to that extent. Popular pianists, likewise, envy his ability with the classics. A conductor of a famous symphony orchestra once stated that Liberace did more to introduce people to classical music than anyone else he knew of. To speculate on how good he would have been if he had specialized in only one type of music is futile. If a music critic wrote anything negative about Liberace they often got a personal note from him that read something like: I read with amusement your recent review. It was so upsetting my brother George and I cried all the way to the bank. In another variation Lee would write, I would have cried all the way to the bank, but instead, I just bought it.

WHAT MAKE OF PIANO DID HE PLAY AND HOW OFTEN DID YOU TUNE IT? Liberace owned between 35 and 40 pianos at any given time. He only played Baldwin pianos in public which were his preference long before he became an official endorser for Baldwin. The only exception was when he played a one of a kind Melville-Clark marking piano used to make player piano rolls. Lee performed on player piano roll recordings for both QRS Buffalo and AMPICO. Notable among his arsenal of instruments were George Gershwin's Chickering Grand and Chopin's Pleyel. Lee's main stage piano was a mirrored Baldwin nine foot grand for which Lee had a matching mirrored tuxedo and a matching mirrored Rolls Royce. Unlike artists who walk across the stage to the piano, Lee was chauffeur driven. There are urban legends about this mirrored Baldwin being cursed, or, haunted, but, I doubt they are true. Lee's other stage piano was a similar rhinestone encrusted Baldwin concert grand. On rare occasions he used other Baldwins.
There was a white Baldwin baby grand that he used for his "drop in" visits to the GOOD MORNING AMERICA SHOW which I tuned on occasion. There was also Baldwin's flagship SD-10 touring concert grand that Lee used for one night only performances. I tuned this piano on a number of occasions for Liberace, Ferante & Teicher, Duke Ellington, and, Roger Williams if memory serves. How many times I tuned for Liberace I cannot recall. Most concert artists, have a legion of piano technicians all over the world who are called upon as needed. Often we are just hired by the concert promoter, or, work for the manufacturer, or, piano dealer who is furnishing the concert instrument. Because we both had a connection to Baldwin pianos and Thomas organs, I saw Lee more often at sales promotions and conventions.

DID LIBERACE ACTUALLY LIKE WEARING THE COSTUMES? From my observation he did and didn't. I hefted more than one and they were both heavy and hot. Very uncomfortable to wear at best. I think he enjoyed the way an audience reacted to them. I think he was also aware that they detracted from his musicianship. He wore at least two per performance, usually quipping at intermission, "Please excuse me while I go backstage and slip into something more spectacular!" The second costume always was more elaborate than the first. At times they made him perspire to the point that he actually lost weight. Staying hydrated was a must. It all started in his early days when he played with symphony orchestras and wore a white tuxedo to stand out from the black clad musicians. Soon came a white piano to match the tux. When he started in Las Vegas booking agents insisted that each appearance was to be accompanied by a yet more elaborate outfit. And so it went. Whatever burden the costumes imposed I think Lee well knew he would have been less popular, and, less wealthy without them.

DIDN'T HE SPEND MONEY LIKE IT WAS WATER? Liberace spent money on the things he enjoyed such as pianos, antiques, cars, clothing, and jewelry. Typical of his mid-western upbringing, he really didn't spend that much in proportion to what he earned. He supported some members of his family and was generous to his friends and those in need. His older brother George, besides being his violinist and musical conductor, was his business manager. Lee had many investments from a restaurant (he loved to cook) to a shopping mall, real estate, etc. The trappings of wealth were almost second nature to him. I remember an occasion backstage somewhere on a hot day. We were all drinking cold beverages from cans or paper cups. Lee was strolling about drinking from a gold chalice with jeweled accents as nonchalantly as if it were only a paper cup. Lee always struck me as the type whom, if he lost his fortune, would take at as noting more than a new phase of his life.

WAS LIBERACE A HOMOSEXUAL? People have so many fixed opinions on this question that it would be of no use to express mine. Here is what I know: His speech, mannerisms, and dress often did fit the somewhat misguided stereotype of the "flaming fag." However, he was personally and politically conservative. He was a devout Catholic. Lee considered his meeting with Pope Pius XII one of the high points of his life. Lee took two publications to court who accused him of being a homosexual in print, and,in both cases, won substantial awards via the juries. No man, or woman for that matter, has, to my knowledge, boasted about having a sexual affair with him.

Before this blog post turns into a book I'll close by saying that Liberace was a kind, gentle, generous, and, extremely talented man. A legend in his own time. He's been gone nearly a quarter of a century now........and his job is still available.

"WHAT DO YOU SAY TO A NAKED LADY?" Allen Funt

In 1970 Candid Camera's Allen Funt secretly filmed people's reactions to unexpected encounters with nudity in unusual situations, such as when a naked young woman casually exits an elevator.  He titled his movie, WHAT DO YOU SAY TO A NAKED LADY?  In more that fifty years of going into peoples homes to take care of their pianos I've had a number of such encounters.  I have yet to come up with a good answer to Allen Funt's question.

My first encounter was back in the days when the World was deemed a safer place and young children were permitted to answer the door.  I rang a door bell and a little girl answered.  I asked if her mommy was home.  She motioned  me to follow her.  Mommy was indeed home....IN THE BATHTUB!  I resolved never to follow a child into a house again.

Another encounter occurred when I arrived at a rural residence on a sunny summer day.  As I got out of my car, after coming up a long gravel driveway, a female voice called out, "I'm in the yard by the pool."  It was there that I found my customer sunbathing in the nude. Embarrassed she explained that she had forgotten her appointment with me, but, was expecting her sister.  When she heard my car she thought I was her sibling.

At one point I was training a young apprentice who was studying for the ministry at an ultra conservative Bible college.  My customer's college aged daughter answered the door and then went out to the pool where some of her friends were waiting.  The picture window, where the piano was situated, overlooked the pool.  After a while she and her friends stripped off their clothes and went skinny dipping in the pool.  She either forgot we could see them for the window, or, simply didn't care.  My Bible college apprentice just kept muttering, "This is Evil!  Evil!  Evil!"  I think I was more amused by his reaction than the goings on around the pool.

I've tuned pianos at nudist resorts, burlesque houses, strip clubs, and legitimate theaters doing nude productions, but, in such instances, one is more or less, prepared.  It's the surprises that leave you fumbling for words.

OF LIGHTHOUSES AND BOATS

A college economics professor I know likes to teach his students that free enterprise is not the answer to all situations.  Government intervention is sometimes necessary.  He often poses this question to his students: "Who, for profit, would build a lighthouse?"  Well, one of my piano tuning clients might well be just the person.  After all, he did build a boat in his basement.  A boat that was too large to ever exit the basement.  A boat that was never meant to set sail.  Why was it built? 

My client, who wishes to remain nameless, got hooked on the hobby of woodworking after taking a wood shop class in high school.  Hectic days at his law office were followed by relaxing evenings turning raw lumber into tables, chairs, cabinets, bookshelves, patio furniture, and just about anything else his family and friends desired. Often he would show me around his well equipped basement work shop to view his latest project, or, point out the differences between a table saw and a radial arm saw. He owned numerous woodworking machines and scores of hand tools. However, after more than forty years he ran out of projects.

Many times, while vacationing at the New Jersey seashore, he had noticed the many older boats made totally of wood.  The more modern fiberglass boats lacked the style and charm of their wooden predecessors, not to mention the meticulous craftsmanship.  Although he himself was not a boater, he obtained a set of plans to build a vintage sport fishing vessel.  Although it was a small boat it would still be too large to fit thru any of the exits from his basement.  He considered building it outdoors with an eye towards eventually selling it, but, the reality was that most of his spare time was in the later evening, so, daylight would become an issue as well as weather.  Also, he loved using his machines and wanted the project to be conveniently located near them.  Finally, due to their high maintenance, few sportsmen wanted wooden boats.  He decided it would be a labor of love, a work of art, and, it would be built in his basement.

Each time I visited to service his piano, I was treated to a trip downstairs to view the latest progress on the boat.  It was a slow moving, but, impressive undertaking. After about a year and a half  the boat was finished.  He never named it or christened it.  He did, however, prove it would float by filling the hull with water and letting it set a few days.  No leaks were detected.  The water was bailed out of the hull using buckets.  The boat sat in the basement for many years until he retired and the house was listed for sale.  Sadly, the vessel was sawed into pieces and hauled to the municipal dump.  He sold the contents of his workshop and he and his wife bought a small home at the seashore.  In time he may build that lighthouse.

ABOUT THAT SAFETY PIN?

When Peter Falk played the relentless detective Columbo, his character examined even the smallest detail. If Columbo encountered a corpse with a safety pin stuck thru the chest area of a perfect dress shirt, it surly would have raised his suspicion. He would never have rested until he had the answer to the question: what about the safety pin? This is a true story, not a TV script, and only I knew the significance of the safety pin.
It all started when a long time customer called me to tune his piano on a Wednesday afternoon. On Wednesday morning he telephoned me to say that he had been out of work and had just been called for a job interview that afternoon. Rather than cancel on me, he would leave the front door unlocked and my check on the piano. I was to let myself in.
When I opened his front door and entered the foyer he was dead, hanging by his neck from some clothesline rope attached to an upstairs hallway banister. A chair, he had apparently stood on and kicked aside, lay sideways on the floor. He was wearing dress slacks and a pastel dress shirt, both crisply pressed. A piece of notebook style paper was pined to the chest of the shirt with a hundred dollar bill taped to it and a message to me written in large blue letters, probably from a marking pen. The note said something like: Dear John. My wife is away. I did not want her to be the one to find me. Please call the police. Thanks. P.S. The money is for the tuning which you don't have to do plus some extra for your trouble. At that time the fee for a piano tuning was $35.00 so he was paying me almost triple.
I did not panic and run away for various reasons. For starters, this was not the first dead body I had ever encountered in my years of going into thousands of homes. It was about the third or forth. Second, two members of my family were homicide detectives and I knew from hearing them talk shop that the person who finds the body gets the honor of being the first suspect. Even if you are absolved form any involvement in the death, a coroner's inquest will tie up days of your time. So the thing to do was get out of the house with no clue that I was ever there. This meant the note had to go with me. I reached out to unpin the note, but, could not bring myself to deal with the pin, which would have meant touching the deceased. Instead, I tore the note from the pin. It came off clean leaving only the pin in the shirt. I made one more vain attempt to get the pin too, but, lost my nerve. I left the house making sure to leave the front door wide open.
This happened in the days before cell phones. I drove to the nearest pay phone and called the police claiming to be a concerned neighbor. I told them the door on the house across the street was wide open and I knew the owners were away. I also thought I saw men walking around inside. I hastily gave the address and hung up. I drove to a bakery, got a much needed cup of coffee, and drove back by the house about twenty minutes later to make sure the police had arrived. They had. For months I worried about that safety pin I left behind, or, if the deceased had written down the day and time of my appointment on a calender or something, but, nothing ever came of it. I guess there were no "Columbos" in that police department.
EPILOGUE: Many months later the deceased man's wife called me to help her sell the piano. Of course, I acted surprised to hear about her husband's demise. I asked if he had been ill or involved in an accident? She told me that he had taken his own life because he was depressed over the fact that his company had let him go, and, as an older man, no one seemed to want to hire him, despite his years of experience. She ventured that he had sent out hundreds of resumes. She told me that between his severance package, and what they had saved for retirement, he really had no need to worry about ever working again. There is a great difference between need and want.

"QUEEN ELIZABETH" MEETS "CHASE UTLEY" OVER A CHEESESTEAK

Often, when tuning pianos in the Italian Market district of South Philadelphia, I would treat myself to a cheesesteak at GENO'S to wind up my night.  Joey Vento, an iconic Philadelphia character claimed to have started his eatery in 1966 with only fifteen dollars in his pocket and built it into a ten million dollar a year business.  Over the years, as South Philadelphia evolved from being a primarily Italian neighborhood, to a multi-cultural melting pot, Joey Vento grew irritated with those who refused to make English their primary language as his family had. Around 2007 Joey posted a sign at the counter at GENO'S which read: " THIS IS AMERICA.  WHEN ORDERING PLEASE SPEAK ENGLISH."   Many people thought the sign to be racist and the Philadelphia city fathers launched a campaign to force Vento to remove the sign.  Joey refused, and the legal battle raged on for years with Joey Vento emerging the winner.  The sign remains to this day. During the course of the controversy the press coverage grew to international proportions.  A woman from Manchester England followed the stories and came to admire Joey's grit. So it was that when she got to vacation in Philadelphia she waisted little time in making a visit to GENO'S

The night I arrived at GENO'S for my dinner I noticed a confused,middle aged, women dressed in a dark green dress with white pokadots, accessorized with white shoes, white handbag, and a white pill box hat.  It was her hat and heavy British accent that caused me to dub her "Queen Elizabeth."  I asked as to the cause of her distress and she told me she had not realized the menu of steak sandwiches was so extensive with numerous options.  She had no idea of what to order to be sure she had tasted an authentic Philly cheesesteak. Although it is not my personal favorite, I told her a steak with CHEEZ WHIZ and fried onions is what most Philly natives consider the classic.  As I walked her up to the order window I taught her how to order like a true Philadelphian. "One, wit, Whiz, here."  You should have heard it in her British accent!  I decided to keep her company as we sat at one of the outdoor picnic type tables and had our meal.  Somewhere from the depths of her over sized purse she managed to produce a knife and fork to eat her sandwich with.  If she thought I was a barbaric American eating with my hands, she never said.

As I was learning her reasons for dining at GENO'S a rowdy group of Phillies fans showed up wearing team caps and jerseys.  The Phillies had lost, and, as the fans waited on line for their steaks, the language grew rough and salty. The F word was flying!  My new friend from Manchester was becoming quite upset.  She commented that her nephew was a Rugby player back home, and, when his team lost a game they, "took it on the chin.  The did not behave like animals!"  It was then I realized that she thought the crowd on line was the actual Phillies team, not, fans in costume. I walked over to the folks on line and asked the fans to tone it down a notch or two because they were disgracing the team in the eyes of a visitor from England.  Surprisingly they complied.  Then, one man dressed in a Utley jersey approached our table hat in hand.  I caught his sly wink as he said "Pardon me lady, I'm Chase Utley, and I just want to apologise on behalf of the entire Phillies team.  Our behaviour was way out of line."  He put his cap back on and strode back to the rest of his group.  The "Queen" was charmed, and clearly, all was forgiven.

When I got home and relayed the incident to my wife she scolded me for not telling the lady the truth, that she had not really met the great second base player Chase Utley.  I, on the other hand, just smiled at the thought of the great tale she would have to tell the folks back in Manchester.