GRAND OBSESSION

At the front of the store, Carl Demler, the owner of Beethoven Pianos, is speaking with a man I recognize.

I would know him anywhere, with his dense mat of white, white hair, and his florid complexion, and his eyeglasses thick as Coke bottle bottoms. He is David Burton from Piano World. I've seen his picture on his website, where he calls himself "The Polar Bear," and describes his visits to piano showrooms. I move in closer, hoping to join their conversation.

"We're going through a period of materialistic, intellectual dependency," Carl is saying. "Though in the long run, I don't see a decline. Music is such an essential part of human development and evolution."

"We are at a critical point in human history," replies David. "We have to decide what it means to live a life well, and what does it mean for a society to live well. We should start piano clubs where people play for each other monthly. Piano as hearth."

"We could have amateurs come here to the store and do that," says Carl.

"Hi, David," I interject, and wave to him shyly. I have a soft spot in my heart for David, who once told me that the piano is his consolation in a life that has been marred by tragedy. He clasps my hand.

"You do know me," I say.

"Of course I do."

"Are you in town for the Piano World party?"

"Yes, indeed, I would not miss it. But please, can we not call it a Piano Crawl? It sounds like a pub crawl. So demeaning."

I just laugh. How like David. Actually, it was me who named the gathering, thinking it sounded catchy. A whole bunch of us have been organizing the event online for months.

I put out the word at Piano World last August: I'll be in New York in October, would anyone like to meet? Bernard immediately responded with an offer to host a party at his apartment in Brooklyn. Then members from as far away as Pennsylvania, Kansas, Bucharest, and New Hampshire said they'd make the trip to New York for a gathering, and we decided to do something grander than have a mere party: we'd have a Piano Crawl. Since on Piano World we talk about our impressions of various piano makes, we decided to tour Piano Row's showrooms together and show one another what we mean when we say a piano's tone is "bright" or "mellow," "dark," or "sweet."

By now, Piano World has become a daily habit for most of us, and our friendships have deepened. The online bulletin board has also become an increasingly complicated place since the attacks of September 11, with membership now at over seventeen thousand highly opinionated people.

A core group rages at each other over politics and pianos, hurts each other over shifted alliances, storms out and comes back, confesses their sins and apologizes, conspires privately, shares their triumphs publicly. And with it all, despite it all, over time, we've become a close-knit community, bonded in our shared and inexplicable piano addiction. This is where I found support all through my search for my piano, my piano studies, and my journey to find a solution for Marlene's lost voice. This is where my passion is understood. Not to mention, it can be a very entertaining place, a veritable daytime soap opera: As the Piano World Turns, as one waggish forum member quipped. Several group projects were born, including a fund-raiser to give a needy child a piano, and a compact disc of recordings by members playing their own pianos to raise money for the website.

An in-person gathering is a momentous event for us, and playing for one another is a big part of such a gathering. That I have worked so hard to memorize and refine the Chopin B minor waltz is no accident. This will be my New York debut, performed before a bunch of old friends I have yet to meet.

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