AN EVENING AT THE SYMPHONY

Grace and I love to makes noises. She will be in one room. I'll be in another.

"Caw!"

"Caw! Caw!"

Making crow noises is a favorite.

During my college years working part-time was a must to supplement meager G.I. Bill income. Having grown up working in the grocery business, it was a natural to continue to work in a supermarket.

An older customer, on seeing me stocking shelves or even working at the cash register would crow, "Caw! Caw!".

Of course I'd crow back.

Caw! Caw! CAW!

This went on for years. It became hilarious. Why this became a ritual for well over four years I'll never know.

Saturday night at the symphony, Cow Town Music Hall AKA Cascade Theater:

Me: "Know what?"

She: "What?"

Me: "You're not going to believe this."

She: "What am I not going to believe this time?"

Me: "I feel like crowing."

What a perfect place to crow. Nothing like a theater for acoustics. How it would resonate. Better than crowing in the shower!

She: "Can it! Don't you dare start crowing here!!"

Me: "Just one crow?"

She: "No way. If you do you'll live to regret it."

Newspaper headlines:

CROWING MAN FORCEFULLY REMOVED FROM SYMPHONY HALL BY POLICE . . . PLACED ON PERCH IN LOCAL NUT HOUSE