When the executives of Detroit's Big Three automakers flew to Washington last week on three different private jets to beg for the taxpayers' help, it was as if Rich Uncle Pennybags had strolled off the Monopoly board, black silk opera hat in hand but wolfish grin untamed.

As tone-deaf as the executives' lavish perks and multimillion-dollar salaries are, they aren't the only excesses trying the public's patience. News coverage of the industry's financial crisis has revealed that the rank-and-file autoworkers earn higher wages than most of us who're being asked to rescue them.

A fellow Pittsburgher we'll call Mr. Democrat -- which means he could be any one of several thousand people -- waxed indignant as we discussed the possible bailout. "They're just bailing out the unions! Those guys are so overpaid, and their pensions! Why should the rest of us have to support that?"

There lies the tightrope for lawmakers on Capitol Hill. Democrats who rely on union support and like to stir up class envy run smack into the fact that autoworkers' wages and benefits have long been pretty high on the American income scale.

In an Associated Press story last week, GM said that its total labor costs are now around $69 per hour (including legacy costs for retirees). Before the new contract signed last year, that figure was $73. Toyota said its total labor costs at older U.S. plants are around $48 per hour.

U.S. executives for these foreign automakers also earn a lot less than their peers in Detroit -- proving to laissez-faire extremists that outrageous salaries are not necessary to attract competent managers. Chrysler CEO Bob Nardelli made headlines in 2007 when he was ousted from struggling Home Depot with a severance package worth $210 million; given the industry's dire situation, shouldn't he now be willing to work at Chrysler for free?

There's plenty to object to no matter where you stand on the political spectrum, but a Rassmussen poll taken last week shows mixed feelings about how the government should respond. Asked to choose either a bailout or letting "companies like General Motors fail," 48 percent of Americans say we should let them fail, while 35 percent prefer subsidies to save them.

But what if the question's phrasing skews the results? "Fail" doesn't mean "cease to exist." If the big automakers go into bankruptcy, they will reorganize, sell off inefficient assets, lay off workers and negotiate new contracts.

Those of us with good, responsible unions in shrinking industries know what it is to adjust to a new reality. It's a bitter pill, but we taxpayers have the right to insist that other, similarly ailing businesses swallow it, too. Acknowledge illness, take medicine, heal.

I made a blunder in last Monday's column, writing that Garrick Ohlsson would be performing the Grieg Piano Concerto when, in fact, he was scheduled to play (and did play) the luminous Beethoven Fourth. I have been fixated on Grieg lately, and I projected my wishes onto his performance.

It was a week full of such highs and lows. The highs included the anticipated pianistic pinnacles. Mr. Ohlsson gave two encores, the second and third movements of Beethoven's "Pathetique" sonata. The second, an adagio, has one of the most achingly tender melodies in all of music history; Mr. Ohlsson played it as though it was unfolding for the first time at that very moment.

Lang Lang, in his solo recital at Heinz Hall, achieved passages of such authenticity in a set of Debussy preludes, especially "Girl With the Flaxen Hair." But his take on the Chopin Polonaise, the "Heroic," was all about the left-hand octaves, which were super-fast and super-loud. Did I mention they were super?

One of the week's lows, though not in the musical realm, was PittGirl's decision to exit the Pittsburgh stage. It was an unexpected blow.

PittGirl, an anonymous blogger of all things Pittsburgh, shut down her site because her identity was in danger of being revealed. Her predicament reminds me of a 19th-century pianist whose story appears in "Famous Pianists and Their Technique." Friends would sneak up the stairs to this pianist's apartment and perch outside his door, because when he thought no one was listening, he could play with a beauty and abandonment he never came close to on stage.

So with PittGirl: The closed door of anonymity allowed her to play with words and thoughts in a way particularly admired by those of us who must always write self-consciously. Most bloggers abuse the Internet's scrim of privacy, but PittGirl deployed her wit with perfect, light restraint.

Shame on you, Annoying Burghers. You two or three envious spoilers who weren't wise enough to just sit outside her door and listen -- you ruined the music for everybody.