Central Park in the daytime, especially in spring, summer and fall is always bustling with activity. It was early summer when a group of three friends and I set off for a day's adventure through the City that ended wearily at the band shell in Central Park.
         
        We had been to the zoo, had ridden on the merry-go-round, eaten hot dogs and watched people the whole day. Brushing aside the many pigeons, the four of us collapsed onto the hard green benches in front of the large white shell stage that boasted free Central Park events. Everything from poetry reading to opera to cattle calling could be on its agenda.
 
        This day it was to be the opera, Carmen. Only a few people had gathered at the bandshell and it was clear the performance would have to compete with the klieg drums always so present throughout the park. These could sound like natives beating against a wash bowl, but the people who played them managed to work up a calypso beat that gladdened your heart.
 
        As we sat in front of the huge white shell, we were not really interested in the scheduled show and did not intend to stay, but an announcer taking center stage caught our attention. "Ladies and gentlemen", his voice boomed, "Today we have a special treat in store for you. The City Opera is presenting a production of the wonderful opera, Carmen, and our guest player is none other than the renowned, Madame La Puma." He paused as if expecting some applause or adulation and when none was forth coming he went on.

        "Madame is a long time piano and voice teacher in this area and she has been associated with the City Opera for many years. We are grateful that she is going to grace us with her presence." He looked over his shoulder toward the wings of the stage. "We have a few items to put into place and then we will begin."
 
        There was a hush in our group. The four of us had stopped talking and we even moved a little closer to the front to join the 20 or so others who had gathered for this momentous occasion. We waited. Then waited some more. We finally resumed talking about general things, until we saw coming from the wings of the stage two burly men carting a huge piano. There was a third gentleman following who was directing the action and telling them where to place their heavy cargo.
 
        As they approached center stage, though, one of the legs on the old piano fell with a thud to the floor. Both men waved and danced about with their heavy load as the third man tried valiantly to stay out of their way while he retrieved the missing part. He directed them to put the piano near stage right but you could tell that the strain was becoming too much and they were about to drop the whole thing.
 
        The sparse audience looked at each other laughing, wondering if these men were really the famous Three Stooges. The laughter was further increased as the men attempted to put the piano upright while the third man tried to place the missing leg where it belonged.
 
        When it was finally in place all three stood admiring their work until another person, an elderly woman, rather robust, came from stage left with a shriek in her voice, wearing a purple hat and dress. The hat sported a feather that was almost as tall as the stage.
 
        This gallant lady whispered something to one of the men and when she did, he stood back and looked at her as if she might have had bad breath. He shook his head from side to side, but then shouted some orders at the other men and they groaned loudly.

        We waited in anticipation, and then everyone started rolling with laughter as the men again picked up the piano and carried it over to the other side of the stage. The robust lady bowed slightly and then disappeared into the wings.
 
        There was silence for a period until the announcer returned and decreed they would shortly start the show. Then with a voice louder than before and his face bright red, he pushed out his huge stomach and clamored, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome -- Madame La Puma!"
 
        We watched the wings and nothing moved. We waited. The announcement was made again. Nothing stirred. The third announcement appeared to be the charm, though, as the lady with the huge hat and the purple dress reappeared, her hands waving towards the audience in the style of Queen Elizabeth, but looking more like an imitation of Carol Burnet.

        This grand lady walked about on the stage several times to the delight of the announcer, until he then detected there might be a slight problem. Finally, on one of her many walk abouts, he came up behind her, and grabbing her by the shoulders, led her over to the piano where she reluctantly sat down.
  
        My friends and I were on the ground pounding it with our laughter at this scene from a Laurel and Hardy movie. Meanwhile, Madame La Puma started playing a few notes and then stopped. She moved around on the piano seat a bit, made a prune face, and then motioned to someone off-stage. The same man who had so gracefully placed the piano leg came forward and bent over as she whispered in his ear. Once again, he looked at her as if to indicate bad breath.
 
        He went offstage quickly and a short while later he came back carrying a large, solid pillow. He handed it to Madame La Puma and she placed it carefully under her rather large frame and started playing again. Only a few notes sounded before she stopped, motioned and brought forth the same person from stage left. Yet again, he bent towards her, backed away wearily, and in a short time came forward with yet another pillow. She placed this one carefully also, scooted around and then at last began to play the long-awaited overture to Carmen.
 
        By this time my friends and I had tears rolling down our eyes, our sides hurt from laughter and it was difficult to catch our breath. The audience was in the mood for comedy, not tragic opera.
   
        The first singer appeared, waving a huge Spanish looking fan and went into her aria. Her voice was thin but as she sang it soon began to sound suspiciously repetitive. She waved her fan even more, then paused and crossed over the stage to stand behind the piano and Madame La Puma. She looked at the sheet of music, then looked at Madame La Puma, made a face, waved her fan some more and then dramatically reached over and turned the page on the sheet of music. She then continued with her aria, but as she sang we could see her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
  
        That was too much for the four of us as we were doubled over on the ground. We tried to settle down but were laughing so hard we could not take any more, so we slunk away, heading for another part of the park to see what adventure it might hold.

        We felt we had had enough entertainment from Madame La Puma for the day, but in my heart I think of her a lot. She represents for me the epitome of the indefatigible trooper who never gives up and in spite of her eccentricities is an indispenable part of the world of music and theatre and an icon of all those wonderful entertainers throughout history who have who have kept on keeping on. I am sure that her deep and true desire was to entertain and please and that overall she was an inspiring example to her many pupils.
 
        Bottom line though - YOU HAD TO BE THERE!