Hey, Karma! Listen up!

Many, many moons past, about 384 of them, give or take a few, I decided that I wanted a piano, that I needed a piano, and that someday, somehow, I was going to have a piano. I firmly believed that I WOULD get this piano, though I had no idea how, but I was pretty sure that buying it at normal prices wasn't going to be the way, as money and I have only a nodding acquaintance, at best. It took you, karma, almost eight years from that day, but I was in my favorite book store one day (this was before one bought books at Barnes & Noble [who was publishing textbooks then] or Amazon [which wasn't even a gleam in anybody's eye yet]), one owned and operated by real people. I'm told that there are still a few of these dinosaurs around, but I haven't seen one in a looooong time. But that's another post, and I digress.

So I was in the bookstore, and Holly, the proprietor, asked me if I knew anybody that could use a piano, as she no longer needed hers, due to her last piano playing chick having left the nest, and she needed the space. I said "yes" immediately, of course, and asked her how much she wanted for it. "Just come and get it and move it away" was her response, so I motivated a bunch of strong backs, and I had my piano. Ya did good, karma, and I've been grateful.

OK, I now have another need, karma, and I'm putting you on notice that I firmly believe that somehow, in some fashion, you will bring me a kneeling, ramped mini-van, with swiveling front seats, and hand controls. It would be nice were it to come equipped with a good trailer hitch, and a nice small RV-type trailer, as well, but I'll cut you some slack on that. I don't want to be greedy, after all. I would prefer not to wait eight years for this, but I will if I must.

You've laid a lot of bad on me the last few years, karma, along with some good, but I think I'm about due for some really big good. Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Most respectfully,