Pointless Nonsense

The pianist drove an Oldsmobile Eighty Eight. It was a ’93.

He preferred uprights to grands because they kept him from slouching. He had prepared a piece for prepared piano, but the inserted bent nails, paperclips and newspaper clippings—the composer specified obituaries wrapped around every tenth string—just slid down the upright making Vector in an Indeterminate Key, the piece’s title, sound more like “Buffalo Gals.”

“That was grand,” said the hunchback. “I particularly liked your pedal work. I always judge pianists by how well they use the sustain pedal.”

“Thanks,” said the pianist. “I can’t always reach the pedals when I’m sitting upright. I have to wear lifts.”

“A lot of pianists start off using the sustain pedal well but then they can’t keep it up,” continued the hunchback.

“I found these shoe inserts on an elevator in London,” ignored the pianist.

“I used to love going to recitals while in college back in Indiana,” said the hunchback.

“Notre Dame?" asked the pianist.

"Purdue."