I was sitting there, up in the loft, the little studio-office where I do most of my work, and I was trying to explain the art of guitar practice to Eric, one of my students.

Next to the wall, at my right hand, stood the new electric piano which had arrived yesterday in two enormous boxes that scared the living shit out of grandma when she'd answered the door.

Grandma was over cos little Bonnie, eight years old, was sick as a dog for the third day running.
When I heard the doorbell and then BarnBoy the dog going crazy downstairs I knew it must be the new electric piano.

I expected it to be the same size as my little electric keyboard that sits between my typing keyboard and the computer screen on which I'm now watching these letters appear from left to right…

My little electric keyboard has 49 keys. It's lightweight. Maybe two kilograms. Piece of cake. This is more or less what I was expecting the new electric piano to be. We got it so Bonnie can practice piano cos she just started up lessons a couple weeks back.

Far as I can tell at the first lesson she learned how to clap in time.

So when I ran downstairs and saw the look of horror on grandma's face it made me do a double-take as well, because there, leaning against the wall was  a large box, about four and a half feet in length, and behind it, looming like a giant, was another box that dwarfed it in height, width and weight. It looked like it had a body in it.

"WTF?" was all I could say to the delivery dude. He pushed the larger box into a lean and it started falling toward me like a tree trunk. I caught it and it almost winded me.

He held out his little electronic scan-and-run machine and then he turned and ran back to his truck.

I guessed he didn't wanna be asked to help carry it upstairs.

I couldn't carry the coffin-sized box inside. I had to drag it in, longways.

I certainly wasn't going to attempt carrying it up two flights of narrow stairs.

Grandma looked at me like: "What the hell is that?"

"It's the new electric Klavier," I said. Meaning piano.

She didn't seem convinced. Looked like she really did think there was a body inside.

After five minutes of thinking about it I realised that whatever was in the larger box was probably in sections which could be carried upstairs one at a time. I sliced open the box and sure enough, there were six pieces, all of which were manageable when carried singularly.


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