"It sounds like the last act of Traviata"...

I cannot claim to have uttered these words. No, they emerged from the illustrious mind of our church choir director and organist par excellance. I'll have to admit that it took me a while to put the joke together, perhaps because it was beginning to be the witching hour of the day for me - that time when the brain just starts to fade into shut down mode. The sad part is that I was actually one of the guilty parties in the description. When I did make the connection, I couldn't help but guffaw. Sorry for those within earshot. As I said, couldn't help it.

You see, it is spring in the Bayou City. Glorious time of year. Everything blooming, trees sprouting - a generalized coming alive going on. And with all of this delight comes, wait for it, ridiculous amounts of pollen and whatever else throws ones eyes, noses, and sinuses into fits of discomfort. And here we were trying to sing with all of that going on in our heads. All that leads to is fits of coughing and sniffling and clearing of one's throat and more coughing and hacking.

So, what is the connection to La Traviata,Verdi's operatic tragedy? Hmmmmmm. As it turns out, the heroine, in the final act, is on her death bed with tuberculosis.

Oh my... Such a very bad joke, but so very true. I couldn't get an acceptable breath all evening. As much as I love spring, it may be a good time for the simple green of summer to take hold around here and give our repiratory systems a break!