six hours per day

and take out the trash.

I did some other things, but most people didn't notice. They were too busy with their muddle class 'murrican lives. Church and "corporate worship" were part of their schedules and resumes, but they spent very little time considering what kind of service industry had to service them before, during and after their attendance at the services.

for some strange reason, the church was full of pianos and electronical keyboards. Evidently, everyone who had a piano or inherited one that they didn't like or need would "donate" said instrument to the church.

This was a tremendous opportunity for me. I liked being able to plunk and twang anytime I pleased. Yet, I oft wondered, particularly after watching such maudlin dreck as "The Brave Little Toaster" (which I loath, hate, and wish never to see again to this day), how all those lonely pianos felt in their isolated cells, unable to commune or communicate with each other except at those odd moments when a half dozen were being played at the same time on Sunday morning at the beginning of classes. I also often thought it would be great, if the stupid place had had windows all around that could be opened, if every piano had a pianist and all the parishers were outside the church singing along to every piano playing exactly the same song (or as exactly as even temperment will allow) at the same time in the same time zone.

But those were muddle class people. They might find such a thing mildly diverting for a second or two if they saw it in a movie or a cartoon, but there was no way such a not-usual thing was going to be occurring at their church. Not as long as it didn't have anything to do with football.