My piano was taken away last week by movers, and I cashed the check today. I was lucky it stayed in the family; a cousin across the country purchased it for his family so I might see it again someday.
It was emotionally hard to sell. Even worse that the money is only going to cover getting me out of my stupid lease. It's not like it's buying me more than a month, but that's one more month of time I have to devote to fixing some complications that cropped up with THE COMMUNE.
The selling process itself was rough even without the deep emotional attachments. Interviewed 2 dozen moving places, and am still getting email and phone messages (that's why voicemail has been full the last two weeks).
The company I chose was $600 less than any other and claimed to never use subcontractors or add on charges, and that their guys knew what they were doing with baby grands. None of the above was true.
Three guys showed up, with what looked to be very little knowledge of how to take apart a piano. One guy had me sign 8 contracts while two others wrapped the baby grand, then at the very end they jacked on $300 for materials. I called the company to complain and they said my choice was to pay or have the piano go with no protection whatsover in a box. And I told him, no, his choice was he could honor the written quote he'd given me with the wrapping or his men could go home now without being paid anything.
After a half hour stand-off, they realized I was serious and honored the original quote. Yes, I do take on three Russian men in my own home. Seriously, you should see me when I'm pissed. No, really. Never mind. You don't want to. I know it scares my friends.
So here's something pretty for them, since most of my friends have never heard me play. That's Mom at the beginning with the clapboard, and Brenda recording.
Lis playing piano - higher quality from Elisabeth Fies on Vimeo.
Goodbye to my baby. Sorry I failed you. May you arrive at your new home in the loved condition you left California in.