 But for some reason, she finds the need each winter to have some
crazy promotion to peddle books. Last year it was celebrating
President James Monroe's wedding anniversary (120 years now, and
they said it wouldn't last!)We've come to speculate (our No. 1
indoor sport around here) on what her promotion would be this
winter. Right after that cold snap we found out. On a big banner
taped up in the front window, we saw: "Help Celebrate Orf Day! Come
in and see the specials."
After two days of fruitless speculation, we agreed to once again
send Doc into the breach.
"Orf Day, huh?" Doc said, cruising nonchalantly past the section
called "Love and Other Fiction."
"I figured it was about time we celebrated Orf, Doc. He just
never gets the kind of respect and recognition he deserves."
Doc raised an eyebrow. "Hockey player, wasn't he?"
"That was Orr. No, he came along a long time before Bobby."
"Oh, yeah," Doc said, nodding, "the composer. I've heard his
stuff. 'Carmina Burana,' right?"
"That was Carl Orff with two 'f's,'" she said, smirking a little
bit, "Orf was 'way before Carl."
[to top of second
column] |
"I guess I'm not familiar with Orf, then, Sarah."
"Granddaddy of them all, Doc," she said. "Orf was the first
reader."
"One of those cave guys?"
"Near as we can figure," she said, with a straight face. "You
know, we don't have a lot of written history of those times."
"So what did Orf read?"
"Before written words, there were cave drawings, of course, but
they lacked a lot in the communication line, so that's when the
first writer tried language."
"And the first writer was...?"
"Urglia," Sarah said. "Orf's wife. Near as we can figure, the
first writing was a note to Orf telling him to take out the cave
detritus, making him an official midden manager."
"Well, ain't progress wonderful," Doc said, grinning.
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
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