Pa had just settled himself on the porch for some serious whittling when Ma turned the stereo on. Now Pa has never been known to favor any particular kind of music above another, while Ma on the other hand is devoted to grand opera--especially Viking opera. What's more, Ma is one of those people who believe that music should properly be played at the volume at which it was recorded.
As the strains of some obscure part of "The Ring" were heard, the dog began to howl loudly.
Pa listened to opera and dog as long as he could, then slammed his whittling on the table and addressed Ma through the window.
"For Pete's sake," said he, "Can't you play something the dog doesn't know?"
---------------A Final Thought ...
"I never can hear a crowd of people singing and gesticulating, all together, at an Italian opera, without fancying myself at Athens, listening to that particular tragedy, by Sophocles, in which he introduces a full chorus of turkeys, who set about bewailing the death of Meleager."
- Edgar Allan Poe (1809–45), U.S. poet, critic, short-story writer. "Marginalia," in Southern Literary Messenger (Richmond, Va., July 1849; repr. in Essays and Reviews, 1984)