There was this Norwegian, a gifted violinist he had won prizes in Moscow
and Warsaw, His debut was held in Oslo community hall, yes, the same
place the Nobel committee glad hands peace prizes to the mostly unworthy.
He played an Edward Grieg piece. Everything went well the public gasped
at his ability, then an accident, his trousers fell down, he wore pink lady
knickers. A shocked silence, then a titter, but soon laughter rolled around
the hall. The unlucky fiddler stopped playing couldn’t understand way
the audience laughed, till he looked down, saw his trousers rest on his shoes.
He tried to pull up his pants, lost his violin, stumbled and fell. The laughter
was merciless and never ending. He fled the country as a second cook on
ship bound for Argentina. There he got a job as a cowhand on a ranch in
the deepest pampas and grew a beard. Two years later thinking all was
behind him a newcomer came to the ranch, looked at the violinist and said:
"Aren’t you the bloke who lost his trousers?"
