The pick was gone.
In fact, the tissue I'd had it wrapped in was open and out of the box that I kept it in. I carefully sorted through everything in there (a miniature chess set Jen Sushinsky brought me from Mexico in '97, and my collection of crosses, along with all the foreign change I've been stuck with at the end of my trips) and found out that it was definitely gone. I began to suspect that the guys who had moved me had someone quick-eyed and deft-fingered among them, and realized what was most eBayable among the lot. I wasn't too steamed; I just tried to keep myself down to a feeling of disappointment as I wondered what kind of inquiry, if any, or "Lost..." postings might be appropriate. Then, just to be über-thorough, I decided to take the drawer entirely out of the table. It doesn't have a board underneath it, or anything like that into which the pick could have fallen, but I figured I'd just look all around anyway. And there it was: standing upright, flush against the right side of the space, on top of the right runner. It fell up and out of the drawer during the move, but managed to stay in the space between without falling out. And so I have my treasure after all, which I've never used except when I was in Nashville recording Life and Other Impossibilities. I will of course show it to you when you visit, but now that you know where it was, I'm finding a new hiding place.