Papa Super Chromonica

Honer Super Chromonica

It was Christmas 1981, and all I got was this stupid harmonica. I almost thought it was a joke gift and I poked around under the tree for something else with my name on it.

I don't know what I was expecting, I wasn't a kid anymore, I was 20. But somehow I was still hoping for that wonderful, perfect present from my dad. He'd just spent the last 7 years divorced and apart from the rest of us, and I hadn't really worked through my broken home issues. I was seeking confirmation that he cared.

But fancy presents just weren't his thing.

My father isn't a musician, but part of him wants to be. Every time he passes a piano he rips into the one song he knows, the one he called "Karaum-bal-tai." In Russian that comes off as a funny sounding onomonopia of the tune known as “Los Paticos” — The Ducklings. He could play harmonica a little too, some slavic jags and campfire type things.

He never studied music but he's very physically adept. He can draw and paint, spin pots out of clay, do carpentry, juggle. He's always been athletic, in fact, at 78 he's doing mini triathalons. He has good musical taste and appreciation, and combined with all that coordination, I think that if he'd had the chance, he could have learned to play more than just that one tune.

I've had my gripes with him. Who hasn't had some with their folks? And he had his faults. I mentioned the divorce, which caused some emotional trauma. He has always been embarrassingly flirtatious, he tends to get angrier than necessary and he's a little childish sometimes, even in his advanced age. I'm not trying to me judgmental, just attempting to check myself in these same areas, because you know, the past tends to repeat itself.

And like I mentioned above, he was always a little stingy with presents.

But I have made a degree of peace with the past. We've both matured. Some of his faults now seem like charming character defining quirks, now that he's getting up there and I've come to realize that I inherited many of his genetic gifts, which I'm grateful for. I share much of my father's dexterity which has helped me in countless ways, including music and I've made good use of my aesthetic sense and appreciation.

I realize now that he also gave me other presents along the way. He showed me how to fix flats, where the north side of a tree was, how to fish, build a fire, throw pots and how to handle knives and cameras. He showed me by example how important it is to be creative and have fun.

And I'm grateful. Let's face it, these gifts are the important kinds in life, not the ones wrapped in ribbons and tied in bows. Those, as I've mentioned, he's always been kind of cheap with.

He liked harmonicas, so he grabbed one for me and wrapped it up that Christmas. That's what I figured. I took the thing home and threw it in a drawer.

Many years later I noticed the identical Honer Chromatica at the music store. Much to my surprise, it cost about $150 — even adjusted for inflation, it was perhaps the most my father had ever spent on me at once.

Sometimes it just takes a while to realize the value of things.

Boss DR 770 Redux

10/16/2010 Update: My laptop is on the fritz and I'm unable to do music on it. So I've been just playing through an amp and practicing. I needed a beat, so I traded in my Behringer midi controller for another Boss DR-770, yes the same one I'd already written about.

I headed down to Rogue Music on 30th Street in Manhattan. At first I was looking at a Zoom 323, which has an interesting setup, 3 tracks of music, bass lines included. But either it wasn't working right or I was too dumb to pick it up. So I tried the 770 and found that it was pretty cool. I'm liking it this time around and it's amazing how much I actually remember about how to run the thing. Not as complex as I remember.

Only problem: after the first hour it began to smell like smoke. Not like it was burning up, but like a pipe. Clearly the previous owner was a smoker.

I'm hoping that the smell fades. I'm considering putting it in a sealed box with some activated charcoal. Any other ideas?

I'm going to program a bunch of songs into there so that I can rehearse my keyboard playing.

Kind of fun to get away from the computer.

Yamaha P22 Upright Piano

YAMAHA P22

About ten years ago, after we bought a house and had the room for it, my wife and I brought over what was once my childhood piano. I'd been its main champion though childhood, and so I'd convinced my mom to give it to me years earlier.

It was a crappy, impossible to tune and somewhat wobbly Jansen console from the 1960s, seen here in my father's photo. Yes, that's me and my sister smoking something (it was the 60s). Despite its shortcomings, I was fond of the piano. After all, I had it's every crooked harmony burned deep into my auditory cortex.

But we had toddlers and the piano was so wobbly that we soon thought it might fall and kill one of them. After only a short while I lugged it back to my dad's house, where it sits today.

We did think our children should have the chance to take lessons and make some noise and, of course, I liked to play. Somehow we had a bit of money and decided to get a new piano. I couldn't have been more thrilled.

If you've ever done it, you know that buying a piano is not like buying a washing machine or even a Fender Strat. There are few prices clearly advertised anywhere. At least I couldn't seem to dig them up online, and found the dealers didn't like to quote them on the phone either. It seemed a huge industry-wide conspiracy designed to keep me, the buyer, in the dark, even worse than buying a car. This was about ten years ago. Now there are a good number of forums and user discussions where you can get a better idea of what you should be paying.

We'd gotten a notice in the mail about an amazing program in which universities were getting rid of pianos which had been gently used for only a year or so — at an incredible discount. Supposedly you got a wonderful deal on a slightly used instrument, and were helping out a school in the process.

Soon we found ourselves on the campus of a well known New Jersey state university looking at a room full of pianos — and getting the hard sell.

Somehow we settled on the Yamaha U22 Upright. It was cleanly designed, not frilly. It had a solid feeling, a huge warm sound and a beautiful finish. Aside from a tiny scratch that had been touched up very well, the piano was perfect.

I don't remember exact cost, but It was over four thousand dollars. The dealer — and it was a dealer, not the university that was selling these — explained that the piano was sold as "new" because it had never been sold before. It was on loan to the school in some difficult to describe way, but the important fact was that this piano had never registered a sales receipt. This was good for me, he continued. I'd still get all the benefits of the warranty and a "like new" piano for a great price. They wanted to deliver it THAT DAY. We settled on the next.

Once home I went back online and researched that exact model. The Yamaha U22 was described as super sturdy in build, on heavy casters, and designed for and often chosen by schools and rehearsal halls. Ok, satisfying research. Maybe our new piano had survived university use better than most, since it was a model build for that kind of thing. It wasn't a music school, so I doubted it had been played more than a few hours a day, tops. My own kid's school had one. All good, we could pound on this one.

But after some detective work I found document in the public record of a local school district: It was a bid [accepted] for a piano identical to the one I'd bought — for about $1000 less, and that one was new!

I suddenly felt like a sucker. I called the guy who'd sold it to us up and told him I thought I was being over-changed. Was he going to let me out of this deal? No wonder they wanted me to take delivery so soon... before I got wise!

Much to my surprise the guy calmly asked what I wanted to pay, and dramatically lowered our cost. I was calmed, but the experience left a bad taste in mouth.

To drop the price as much as they did, and so quickly, made me realize these guys were making way too much on these instruments. Essentially the pianos were being sold twice. They probably got that tax break in the school deal, or maybe some kind of slippery lease payment, made their money, then made it again selling to people like me.

In the end the piano did not disappoint. It has held up to my heavy hands. It sounds great, looks great.

The moral of the story? Nothing new: Buyer beware. Especially on a big ticket once in a lifetime purchase like a family piano.