My grandmother recently had an open house for her jewelry and my grandfather's art. Just to give a little background to this story, my grandmother is the epitome of the homemaker. She could run circles around Mrs. Vanderbilt and Mrs. Post. She never stops talking and has just about stomped out the Jonses. My grandfather doesn't really ever say anything. He gives off the air of this helpless guy who really has no clue as to what is going on, although he does, I think. He is starting to loose his hearing and every time he does start to speak the first few words of his sentences are always MUCH louder than they should be.
So there are about forty people in her house and for some reason or another it gets rather quiet. I remembered my grandfather suggesting that he put on some of his classical music earlier, and I thought it would be a good to go on with the idea. My grandfather is an architect and they have a rather uniquely designed home, so their living room is HUGE and it is connected with the upstairs hallway in this loft sort of way. So my grandfather gets out his circa 1987 tape deck and sets it on the balcony upstairs and cranks up the sound.
Now, try to imagine a bunch of uptight women and their exhausted husbands making their way around the jewelry and paintings. They are all trying to keep their composure, crystal punch glass and french appetizer in hand. They are speaking about the latest charity art show they have planned or are attending and the room has become difficult to navigate from all of the the names being dropped.
So my grandfather starts the music and with the tape deck turned to eleven, the trumpets of the opening of the William Tell Overture come blasting out of the second story loud enough to drown out the London Philharmonic. The best part about this, my grandfather is totally satisfied with it, and begins to walk back down the stairs. It felt like everyone of the guests were whipped into a frenzy. The tempo of the evening had been sped up significantly and my grandfather had created this GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE BEFORE THE CAVALRY ARRIVES ambiance. I was helping out in the kitchen and I could see mal-contorted faces of the my shit doesn't stink guests. I could not control myself; tears were streaming down my face. These people looked like my grandfather had just killed a baby right there in the middle of the room. Suddenly my grandmother erupts with "BILL! WE NEED SOMETHING SOOTHING!" So my grandfather climbs the stairs again and suggests he put on some old war tunes. About as suddenly as the trumpets had started they stopped and the mellow war music came on. Just like a scene from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest the guests were subdued for medication time. It perfectly matched the music used in insane asylums during recreation time.
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