Once there was a small jazz club in New Orleans. In a corner of that club sat an old dilapidated piano. All of the jazz artists complained about this antiquated instrument. The piano players dreaded playing on it. The vocalists dreaded singing with it. And all of the combos that played the club wished that they could bring in their own piano - just like they could a saxophone or a trumpet.

Finally, after years of listening to these jazz musicians complain about his piano, the owner of the club decided to do something about it. He had the piano pain…