The Piano Tuner

Jonny is all in a flap, like a chicken on acid. The Piano Tuner is coming.

The Piano Tuner last visited just over two years ago. At the time I dismissed him as just another crazy loon, intent on parting Jonny B from the LTLP's hard-earned money. But this time, there is something in his manner that makes me think of doom and destruction. Could this be the Big Boss. Could this be the man who controls The Man.

Even with the kind of advanced sound amplifiers that the government supplies to its agents these days, I can make out little of their conversation over the god-awful racket of some 18th century Communist. The Tuner complements Jonny on his instrument, they discuss some dates that I don't quite hear clearly, and before I know it, the Tuner is making for the exit. I put down my glass tumbler and watch him drive away.

Just like two years past, I can hear a muffled (but clearly poor quality) rendition of the theme-tune to Minder from the other side of the wall. I had previously considered this to be just another anti-establishment ditty, a light-hearted call-to-arms for the criminal underworld. Now I consider the terrible lyrics with a new trepidation:

If you want to, I'll change the situation.
Right people, right time - just the wrong location.
Sometime when you're feeling like a poor relation, call on me.
I'll give you more than conversation.
Take them. Shaking hands.
A deal.
Move it brother. I'll make you heal.