reginald was a nasty child, and completely unafraid of servants, policemen, and other adults.
he was always asking them questions like, what do you do? and, are you useful in any way?
one day reginald and his twin brother rudolf (a gentle, docile, well trained child) were taken to the seashore by their nanny.
there was a boardwalk on the beach, which projected about three quarters of a mile out into the ocean. various booths were set up on it,, selling cold drinks and popcorn and such, and there were also booths with shooting galleries and other games of chance where prizes like teddy bears and brightly colored neckties could be won.
also taking up space on the boardwalk were some musicians, and artists selling their paintings, and their hand crafted jewelry and whatnot.
reginald’s attention was attracted by a very old man (very old to reginald) who had set up a piano at the farthest end of the boardwalk, a little apart from the other attractions.
rudolf and nanny went wherever reginald wanted to go, so they followed him to the end of the boardwalk where the old piano man was set up.
the piano man was playing what nanny recognized as “melancholy baby” or maybe it was “million dollar baby in a five and ten cent store.”
nanny thought this remote end of the boardwalk looked and felt a bit worn, and she wondered if the heavy piano might not crash through it, dumping all of them into the water. she placed a one dollar bill in the cracked porcelain cup on top of the piano, and the piano man nodded to her and said thank you.
reginald was more interested in the piano itself. he noticed that it had small wheels on it.
“are those wheels locked?’ he asked in his most aggressive manner.
“of course,” the piano man replied, with a friendly smile.
“how do you know that they will hold, and that the piano will not roll away into the water?”
“well, i just trust that it will not. it never has.”
“do you roll it away every night?’ reginald asked. “i do not suppose you just leave it here.” all reginald’s questions were delivered in the tone his mother might have used in interviewing a new maid or gardener.
“no, i have a truck that i take it away in,” the piano man answered, as he kept playing “melancholy baby’” , “and in answer to your next question, no, i do not load it on the truck myself, i have a friend who runs one of the ice cream stands and he helps me.”
“hm.” reginald changed his line of attack. “how many songs do you know? do you play the same ones over and over?”
“how many do i know? i know hundreds,. but i play about thirty, which have proven to be the ones folks seem to like.”
“that sounds boring,” reginald declared. “just doing the same thing over and over.”
“many people do the same things over and over,” the piano man replied with the same tolerant smile.
rudolf did not usually dare speak unless reginald gave him leave, but he piped up, “there was a fellow that we passed selling paintings, and they all seemed to of clowns, magicians, and gypsy violinists. that is only three things, and this gentleman plays thirty songs.”
“that is very well said, rudolf,” nanny declared.
“i still think it sounds boring,” said reginald.
“i have a brother,” the piano man said, “who works at sam and jack’s deli, which as you may know, is famous for its roast beef sandwiches. and my brother has one job, which is to slice the roast beef for the famous sandwiches. he has been doing it, five or six days a week, for twenty-eight years.”
reginald laughed out loud. “how dreadful. i would go quite mad.”
“but what would you like to do, young fellow?” the piano man, still smiling, asked. “that would give more spice and variety to your existence?”
“i should like to be a statesman,” reginald replied. “and start a new war somewhere, every year, at least. that is what i should like to do.”
“different people have different fates,” the piano man said. “they can only wait on the hand of time to reveal them.” and with that, he began playing al jolson’s “my buddy”, which was his favorite song.
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