Back in the 60s-90s when I actuallly got paid for working, my jobs had me flying across the US and overseas. One of the first things I noticed at airport arrivals were machines that dispensed luggage carts. Drop in a couple quarters, and you could gather up your bags and cart them away.
Seems there was an orchestra, with a master Violinist in ﬁrst chair. In the midst of ﬁnal rehearsal for a grand exposition of powerful music, a bizarre dissonance was heard. The conductor stopped the piece as he nearly fell off his podium. The concertmaster was heard to say softly, “Apologies, Maestro – there are ﬂies here. One landed on my score and I played +*0+*
LATE FOR THE TRAIN: This guy usually drives up the road around midnight in a car whose muffler has seen better days, with high beams on looking for an empty site. Drives around two or three times, finally settles on site across the road. Proceeds to fire up at least two Coleman kerosene lanterns, creating daylight conditions for 30 yards in each direction.
Back in the 50s when I was in Jr. High in Los Altos, the town had a Dad’s Club for men. Their main purpose was to put on a charitable musical revue each year called the Fathers’ Frolics. The cast was liberally filled with well-known local businessmen, teachers, doctors and regular dads. I really enjoyed going to these and watching these normally-staid and serious men display their musical and comedic