TIM BELFORD

Mister, have you seen my piano?

Have you ever lost a piano?

I don't mean have you ever had one taken from you, burned in a fire, sold to strangers.

I mean lost, as in misplaced. You see mine's gone missing.

Which is a shame really since it just came into my possession, or almost into my possession since, as I said, it's lost.

Well, then again I suppose it's not really "lost" since it's out there travelling the highways and byways of the nation.

Let me explain.

My mother-in-law recently passed away and the one thing she really wanted me to have was her piano.

This in itself is a little odd since I don't actually play the piano. Yet.

Although I've always wanted to.

I actually took lessons for a while. I was thirty-five years of age at the time and actually managed to buy a used upright.

Unfortunately a short time later I was forced to sell the piano. It was a simple case of being able to afford to eat or tinkle the ivories as it were.

Anyway, Mary thought it was a pretty sad story. So she left me the thing she knew I would appreciate most.

The thing is, the piano is now in the hands of a mover and, as far as I know, he could be parked in a lay-by somewhere, running a mobile speakeasy cum piano bar in the back of his rig.

You see, we'd explained to the moving company that we wanted it to be shipped, along with some other odds and ends. to Quebec.

We also explained they'd have to give us warning when it was due to arrive since I am often in Sherbrooke.

Well. they warned us all right.

The love of my life got a call Friday during which a chirpy dispatcher let drop that the piano was somewhere near Cornwall, Ontario, en route to Quebec that very moment.

To which my love replied that was nice but her husband was en route that very moment on his way to Sherbrooke.

And since he didn't believe in cell phones there was no way he could be reached.

The dispatcher said something like Oh and offered my love the driver's cell number.

When she finally reached him and explained the problem he broke the disconcerting news that he was something called a "rebel driver" so his schedule was fairly flexible.

It could also mean he plays lead guitar in a band called the "Devil Drivers" and they need a piano for backup.

All I know for sure is he and the piano are out there somewhere and won't arrive for another week.

So if the rebels listening, be gentle. I may never get another chance to learn to play.