What to Do Until the Piano Tuner Leaves

Sometimes our past lives come back to haunt us in strange ways. I’m not referring to anything paranormal. Reincarnation is a jolly concept but it begins to take on Sisyphean overtones. There’s also the sense that in a previous existence (if there was one) I must have been very, very bad. This has been to all outward appearances a remedial life. For all I know I’ve been in the cosmic equivalent of the Second Grade for 7,000 years. My Progress Report (I imagine) still says “Does not work well with others.” No, I’m referring to all those things we used to do in our current skins. What’s interesting is that I find everything I’ve ever done or learned has turned out to be of use to me in my capacity as Editor and Publisher of The Syncopated Times. My lifelong interest in various forms of music as well as my sedulous pounding of typewriter keys were obvious helps in creating this publication. I never thought that my ten years spent as a self-employed piano technician would come in handy. Piano tuning is what I did because I had to do something. I knew I could never last long as an employee. Owing to the idiosyncrasies of my metabolism, I could never regulate my schedule to the demands of a time clock. So, because I taught myself to play piano, I taught myself to tune the awful beasts. I never made buckets of money but I gave the impression of working. I could set a tem