How the Hullabahoos acquired the piano, I'm not certain, but I can't imagine its previous owner missed it much. It was an old upright, painted with what appeared to be black latex paint, although with the abundant dried drips running down its sides it could as easily have been driveway sealer. It was near enough to tune to be useful, and it probably provided TB with some useful shelf space. A definite conversation piece, as the euphemism goes.

When TB left, the piano was handed down to our senior member, Grady Moore. We had a number of rehearsals around it at Grady's apartment just off of Shamrock Road (what's that dead-end street by Alpha Di-Sig?), and I recall arranging the Police's "Synchronicity" at it with Grady (not that we ever finished learning it, you ungratefu-- um, nevermind).

In the summer of '92, with Grady off to Alabama, the piano was passed to outgoing music director Greg Demme. This is the only documented proof I have so far of the piano's whereabouts:

"... or he'll pull your teeth out. [...] The piano is safe in my Lambeth apartment as of June 1. I'm having it tuned and repaired. Grady is off to study for the Alabama bar exam, but before he left, he gave me the tapes of our sessions that he had Virginia Arts make. [...] Let me know when you want to record Mysterious Ways, [...] and Future Love Paradise and whether or not you want me to sing on them."

--letter from Greg Demme, 4 Jun 1992

Where is it, these six years later? What fate has our old friend met, and is someone yet tickling its discolored ivories? Did anyone ever sand the damn thing down and give it a proper staining?

These are the questions whose answers I seek. I shall find them, one day, I feel certain. But until then, I can only wonder. And I do. Wonder.