Baseball is here, and I am reminded of a joke my father used to love to tell, so I asked my lovely sister, Karen to tell it to me again.
Since the toxic shock of the past week is somewhat lifting, I figger it's time for some levity...enjoy!
"A famous symphonic orchestra was performing Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. Note that there is a very long segment where the basses don't have a single note. The conductor decided that, during this lengthy rest, the bass players should quietly lay down their instruments and leave the stage. Once they did this, however, a stagehand suggested that they all go across the street to quaff a few pints. While there, a European nobleman recognized they were musicians, and bought several rounds. Two of the bassists passed out, while the nobleman and the rest of the players were quite drunk. Finally, one yelled to another, "Look at the time! We'll be late!" Those who were conscious dashed across the street to the opera house. While running madly, the section leader informs the others, "Of course, I anticipated something like this would happen, so I tied a string around the last pages of the conductor's score; when he gets to that point, he'll be forced to slow the tempo down while he waves his baton with one hand, whilst he furiously fumbles with the string in the other!" Sure enough, the musicians arrived just in time, but one look at their conductor's face told them they were in serious trouble - the maestro was furious! After all ...It was the bottom of the Ninth, the basses were loaded, the score was tied, there were two men out, and the Count was full."
(Karen's note: of course, nobody tells this like Dad)