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I may not be too musically inclined, but even I have to admit that the player piano we owned was a spectacle.

When it was first delivered to our home, we had some initial fun telling friends my mother was a concert pianist and then getting her to move her hands across the keys as if she was truly playing the notes.

The quality that made the player piano particularly striking was that whoever owned it before us painted it a shocking fire engine red color. It was hardly a proper hue for such an elegant instrument, but it made it an affordable price for us when the original owner decided it was time to sell.

So we delighted in collecting the delicate paper rolls that made the music and enjoyed the spirited sounds that bounded out of the melody maker. Everyone who came to visit always remembered us as the family with the crazy red piano.

Eventually we managed to get the instrument refinished. I am unsure who actually took on the task or how long the project was in progress, but it seems like one day the player piano was that ugly, awful red and the next day it was a perfectly normal, no-nonsense medium oak color.

From that point forward, the instrument that had attracted such attention lacked a little of its luster.

We still enjoyed its music with our guests, but people were no longer drawn to the piano for its preposterous shade of red.

I never did become much of a music lover, but I did learn to appreciate the fact that a conspicuous presence can be a blessing. It can be the element that gets your sweet song noticed.