Many of you may not know that I never got the first player I wanted
to get originally, in January of this year.  The player piano was
in Bel Aire, Kansas, a suburb of Wichita.  The owner, Dan Dodd, a
"motorcycle dude" type, wanted two things: (1) to get rid of it
quickly, and (2) not to have _anyone_ ask him any questions or even
think about checking on it in further detail.

The first time I looked at it, the piano seemed to be in good tune.
Almost none of the keys were chipped.  He had been going to sell the
piano for $100.  Then when I was leaving his house, he told me, "if
you find someone to haul it away, I'll give it to you for free."

For your information, the player piano was in a shed, most likely
exposed to extreme heat and cold, and probably thousands of other
unwanted fast piano-destroyers.

However, around a week later, when I called the man up to ask if
I could check on it again, and maybe test it with a roll, he said,
"Just forget it, this is getting ridiculous!  I'll just find someone
else," and hung up on me.  I felt terrible after that.

Who knows what he might have been hiding under his rudeness?  The fact
that he knew good and well it didn't play, or that it was really not
worth much in the first place?

There was something about that particular piano that I really liked,
and no other player has given me that same mysterious feeling.  I'm
not sure what it was; it just appealed to me somehow.

Fortunately, a few weeks later, I became the proud owner of my 1910
Werner Auto-Player.  I got it from the owners of the Prairie Rose
Chuckwagon, in Benton, Kansas.  I am so happy I have it, as it is
basically ready to go and play rolls again.

Luke Myers
ldmyers95@gmail.com