january 28, 2010

the blue piano.

we drove out to enumclaw on a cold saturday morning in january, almost a year ago to the date. we had arranged to pick up what would become the piano for our engagement photo from a guy named rick. the piano i discovered, was found in an abandoned school house in the middle of montana some years prior. rick wasn't much for eye contact, but he was nothing short of enthusiastic about filling me in on every bit of history, important or otherwise, regarding the piano. the owners of the school house, like any god-fearing couple worried that it was only a matter of time before the school house was struck by lightening and the piano taken victim in the flames. rick was the type to race snow mobiles in the winter, and a good deal of the rest of the year, snow or not. he also took to saving and rebuilding pianos in his spare time, which from what i gathered didn't exist anymore, but who needs spare time when you own snow mobiles, right? right.

"what will you do with it?" rick asked. there was curiosity but also a level of misgiving in his voice. "oh... i'm getting married..." is all i replied, trying my best to not betray my actual plans. i looked at him and smiled as sincerely as i knew how, trying to convey the bright future that lay in promise for the piano.

earlier in the week i had asked my father, brother, and brother-in-law if they would help me pick up the piano. my dad had a truck and a flatbed trailer, i also needed someone to push the shutter on the camera later that day, having all ten fingers he was a perfect candidate. when my brother heard the news of our plans he announced his own plans that once we were finished taking photos, he would light the piano on fire and blow it to pieces with his shotgun. having grown up with my brother, this was the sort of plan i came to expect. i packed a separate camera for the shotgun festivities, not wanting to miss a photo opportunity. my brother-in-law was not as quick to give up his saturday morning in humble service. before agreeing to the terms, he had made demands that his labor be repaid by way of a hot meal in a fancy restaurant. later however, i'm suspecting via my sister's persistent urging, he dropped all such demands, and ended up being a good deal of help.

the piano rolled out of the garage and slid onto the trailer so easily and with such little effort that it gave the impression of a cow happily escaping the tortures of factory farm life, only too eager to load itself into a cattle trailer, the enticement and promise of real freedom in the air. if the piano could have felt the licking flames and the shotgun blasts that awaited it's hastily approaching future, i don't think it would have been quite so eager to load itself onto that trailer. as we readied the piano for travel, rick pulled three small photos from his jacket pocket and handed them to me. like pictures of his children, he explained in a thoughtful tone, "now this is the school house that she came out of, and this is her in the room she spent most of her time..." he went on, "you can see the birds got to her a bit, but i saved her from that..." he motioned for me to keep the photos when i tried to hand them back to him.

as we pulled away with the piano in tow, big waves and loud thank-yous were exchanged. the guilt i tell you, could not have been heavier.

watch the making of the blue piano:



attention: if you would like to set our engagement photo as your desktop wallpaper, and i don't see why you wouldn't, you can find it here.

a. the photo was taken in north river, washington, on my grandfather's farm. north river is the kind of place were people once lived and worked, and now, it's just trees and fields and rivers. my grandfather, boyd johnson, passed away a few years ago and his farm and many many barns and outbuildings have since collapsed and become part of the fields. it's both beautiful and tragic in a way that you can hardly bear to see.

b. it was very cold, read: 36 degrees fahrenheit.

c. yes the paint was still wet.

d. look closely and you'll notice the zipper on catherine's dress is broken, and stuck open. brand new dress, broken zipper, 36 degrees outside, perfect.

e. there is a happy ending. my brother didn't have time to drive to north river with us. after some shuffling, the piano finally found a home in his river side gazebo on the black hills. the keys and body of the piano swell up in the moist air for much of the year, but on dry summer nights you can hear her warbley singing, with the faint cry of snow mobiles in the distance.