Something exciting happened the other day. In one fell swoop, as my spouse notes, I exceeded his expenditures over 20 years on his classic car restoration hobby, though not by much. I’m slightly skeptical of the math on this, but the one fell swoop part is true.
I bought a piano. It’s a rebuilt 1926 Steinway L, from the “golden age” of the Steinway grands. It’s beautiful and so fun to play.
We’re freaking out about it when we’re not rejoicing over it. It was delivered Friday but we forgot to call our home insurance company. Lying awake in bed that night Dale said, “What if we have a fire and lose it?” I said, “I could care less about the piano if we have a fire, as long as we are all safe. Also, I promise we won’t have a fire before Monday when we’ll call the insurance folks.”
We’re feeling some guilt about going big on this, bigger than first intended. To keep things in perspective we remind ourselves of our modest spending elsewhere. We tell the children, “It’s an investment. We got a favorable rate on the loan, and these Steinways appreciate so much that it’s like putting money in savings each month.”
I worry about being judged. I judge myself. This purchase demonstrates our privilege and access. I may need a piano, but this one exceeds my need. There would be much more responsible and just ways to use our money.
I make more excuses. I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while. We’re supporting a local craftsman and business. I want to have several decades to enjoy the last piano I’ll ever buy. It will get played. A lot. We’ll be good stewards of a historic instrument.
These moments of panic, guilt, and justification are deeply rooted in how I think about money. It’s probably healthy to work through this with any large purchase, a process that could lead to positive new commitments and priorities.
No one is asking me to justify, and it may be most elegant to simply say, “I love it and I’m grateful to have it.” I guess I’m not doing the elegant thing with these reflections, but I’ll try in future conversations. I love it and I’m grateful to have it. And now I’ll go play it.
Some Well-Tempered Years 
Thank you Bev. For exposing yourself and for the broad and big questions you raise — with yourself and for all of us. For me this is not ultimately a question of cost. Nor of knowing that the Steinway will indeed appreciate in value. For me this is about “gift.” The piano is a gift for you, for your skill and ability. Your artistry merits a corresponding instrument. It is a gift for time, as you note for coming decades of playing. And it is a gift to others, that your talents may be honed and sharpened to bless and enrich others through performance. There is no doubt in my mind that you are a well-matched steward for this instrument. Blessings for the joy it will provide you and those who will hear you.
–Jon
Love hearing about your new Steinway Bev! Investing in a quality instrument is worth every penny in the joy you will find playing it, in the opportunity your children will have to grow on a quality instrument. We spent what we thought was a crazy amount on a 6 foot grand about 6 years ago. Not a Steinway, but it is a nice piano. I won’t tell you the brand because you won’t be that impressed. But having that piano was worth every penny in the enjoyment it brought us, especially in seeing how playing it has gotten our kids excited about music. I say this while listening to Reuben masterfully playing some Chopin waltzes. I do actually have one regret about that piano, and that is that we didn’t spend a bit more and get an even better instrument like your Steinway.
– Gerry
God has given you the gift of a lifetime of music MAKING and SHARING. You are investing in that gift and using it well. Don’t hide the talents under a bushel. Step up and accept that you can do this, and so you have. I know you won’t let it get dusty! I can envision years of Schubertiads (Lapp-iads?) coming from this lovely instrument, played by your lovely self. Enjoy!