A story of yeastier years. When David my son was in Jr. High he played the trumpet in the band. One evening they were having a concert and we got there early so I could get a seat up front. The concert was held in a gymnasium on a hardwood floor and the seats were metal folding chairs. There was a fellow worker setting behind me and as he looked at the back of my head, the way my hair was combed and my head up it had a pointed look. The thought came to him to lean over to his wife and say, “Look at that pointed headed paper maker.” As he thought of this he came to the conclusion that this is a man of God and I had better not. But the longer he thought of it, he couldn’t resist. This is the story that he told the next day at work. I leaned over to tell his wife, at that moment the metal chair broke and he found himself lying on the floor horizontally on top of this chair that was laying flat. The noise was so loud that it stopped everything. I looked around to see him trying to get up and said to myself, “How embarrassing.” The next day at work he spread the news, “be careful about what you say about Robert Lindsay. His name is Danny and he still has a lot of respect for me.