Picture this: A packed-house recital hall and on its stage nothing but a 9 ft. concert grand with lid completely closed as is the piano's keyboard lid, a piano bench set in front of the keyboard. On walks the pianist dressed in full white-tie concert-dress tux, tails and all. He bows to the audience who applaud him warmly. He then turns, folds back the front portion of the piano lid, lifts the music stand into upright position, then raises the full piano lid into concert position. He then opens the piano bench and extracts a volume of sheet music which he places with great care on the upright music stand. He then closes the piano bench, seats himself in front of the keyboard and slowly opens the keyboard lid exposing the full keyboard. He then leans forward, opens the sheet music volume and turns to the first page after which he sits back for the next half-minute or so with hands in lap and plays not so much as a single note. He then again leans forward and turns to the next page in the sheet music volume after which he again sits back for the next half-minute or so with hands in lap and plays not so much as a single note. He repeats this same procedure, say, about six more times for a total time of, say, about 4 1/2 minutes or so. He then once again leans forward, closes the sheet music volume completely, lifts it off the music stand, places it back in the piano bench, stands facing the audience and bows, then turns and walks off the stage into the wings. Really neat April Fools' Day joke, would it not be? What's that? It's been done? It's in fact old hat, even famous? And it's not in the least meant as an April Fools' Day joke but is done in dead earnest? Oh. Never mind.