You might think mathematics and physics would adequately brace one for the basic forces involved in relocating a piano – after all, it's a simple matter of calculating the weight of the object, the leverage and gravitational forces at hand, right? Well, I must confess, dear reader, that despite my multiple degrees, my first foray into piano moving turned rather unexpectedly into a symphony of folly. But allow me to explain: I own a beautiful antique Steinway grand piano, a possession of great sentimental and financial value. Its usual residence is in my study, next to my extensive Lovecraft collection, the haunting tones from my practiced fingers working as a beautiful contrast to the tales of cosmic horror.
Towards the end of last spring, subjected to a whirlwind of inspiration, I decided the grand piano needed a change of scenery. It should bear witness to a different aspect of my universe, adjacent to the large bay window in the living room where it could bask in the glorious Maine daylight and inspire even greater musical creativity. I was to experience the timeless laws of physics in a rather visceral and painfully humorous manner during this misadventure.
Armed with a fulcrum and lever, and an ample lack of common sense to apply the principles of physics, I set about this Herculean task. Emmett Brown, my ever curious feline companion, decided to contribute to the endeavor, lending his own brand of feline 'helpfulness.' It began as a perfect morning, the sun casting long beams of light, while Parrot echoed his name in the background, offering a strange sort of cheerleading.
Had H.P. Lovecraft scripted my day, he couldn't have devised a more catastrophic sequence of events that commenced once my piano started moving. Like the black Egyptian cat from The Cats of Ulthar, Emmett positioned himself inconveniently beneath the rolling monstrosity. Moments later, a startled feline burst from under the behemoth, causing a tremor that inspired my Steinway to perform its own reinterpretation of a downhill slalom, defying my pitiful attempts at intervention. In a masterstroke of comedic timing, Parrot, till now perched comfortably on the chandelier and shouting his own name sporadically, was so startled by the rapidly moving instrument that his rapid wing flap added to the chaos, bringing the chandelier swaying dangerously over the disaster zone below.
As the sound of crunching metal and splintering wood subsided, I found myself entangled in a knocked-over bookshelf, a startled Emmett perched atop the now diagonally inclined piano and Parrot repeating his name in hushed tones, as if he had just witnessed an event from Lovecraft’s stories manifest in reality. This, indeed, was physics, albeit of the most uncontrolled variety.
The entire scene could have doubled as a Lovecraftian rendering of a Laurel and Hardy sketch, a telling testament to my overconfidence. Nursing my bruised ego(and more than a few actual bruises), I set about contacting professional piano movers – the Piano Movers of Maine, to rectify this catastrophe.
Arriving with a calm assurance that instantly soothed my frayed nerves, they made the entire process seem effortless. With perfectly calculated movements and the obvious understanding of the physical forces at play, these men of practice and experience performed what seemed to my battered self a miracle. My Steinway, now gleaming once again in the morning light, occupied its new place near the bay window, a touch of elegance amongst the clutter of my chaotic life.
So, here's to the harmony of correctly applied physics, the silent language of the universe, and the power it holds if correctly applied, even in the supposed mundane task of moving a piano. From gobsmacked chaos to harmonious resolution, these mathematical laws prove their worth in the most unexpected of places and situations, even in something as seemingly prosaic as relocating a grand piano.