It's where poor old Townsend, of UNIPO,
was expected to render some sort of ad-
dress, in Hitchcock's N by NW. Might've
made it, too, but for a knife toss when
meeting Cary Grant. Oh my. These things
happen, to try our souls. And so it was
that our President, that genital-seizing
prophet of American greatness, remark-
ed on his superiority to any predecessor
ever, and positively brought down the
house in herd farts and lowing moos we
cannot be asked to transcribe, in res-
pect for his indelicate posture. Even
then, there's the bell, as Grace Kelly
breathlessly remarked to Ray Milland, be-
fore that faculty came under duress, in
Dial M. Do we ever ask ourselves, how we
might otherwise get by, without farce?
Possibly not often enough. Yet, more to
the point, how can one compensate the
UN, for putting our President on-stage
during the Interval, so we might safely
graze amongst our kind, in rustic peace?
Glyndebourne
Christie Estate
1967
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