Too Much Culture for Mr. Clyde

I was surprised to see Mrs. Cecelia uptown this morning. I thought she and her man were still out of town. I told her so once we had exchanged howdies.  Mrs. Cecelia said they pulled into town late yesterday evening.

Mrs. Cecilia retired from the public school system in May. A couple weeks later she and her husband, Mr. Clyde, took off in their new travel trailer on a well planned trip to see their kids and grandkids. I think they have something like five or six married kids scattered clear across the States.

“How was the trip?” I asked. “I suppose y’all made all the rounds?”

“Sure did, Shellie,” Mrs. Cecelia said, “we even made it up to see Greg and Allyson in New York City. They took us to a lot of plays and musicals, too. I enjoyed ‘em tremendously. Clyde, on the other hand…” Mrs. Cecilia rolled her eyes. I smiled because I sort of knew what was coming.

“That man of mine,” she continued, “was a pain in the neck. You know he gets claustrophobic in the city, too much concrete he says; not enough trees. One night we went to hear a famous opera singer and Clyde snorted and grumbled the whole way through. During intermission this poor fellow next to him turned and tried to strike up a conversation.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, “but I couldn’t help overhearing some of your conversation earlier. I understand you are tourists. Tell me, what do you think of the Big Apple?”

I jumped in before Clyde could and answered for him, “Oh, we think the city is just wonderful.”

The fellow beamed! “Excellent,” he said. “Now, I must say you’ve made a wise choice in entertainment. What do you think about the singer’s execution?

Unfortunately, Mrs. Cecilia said Clyde beat her to the punch line on that one. “To be honest,” Clyde he told the man, “I’m not enjoying it a ‘tall but I think taking him out is a mite extreme.”

Hugs, Shellie