Crpytwalking

The other day, I was driving down Grand in Chinatown with my window down, not really listening to music and in the pause between the songs I heard live music. Horns. I looked and half a block down the street was a band,  meandering toward me. Not a marching band but a dozen old men in black suits walking slowly.  The song sounded like some old ragtime number and at first I tried to remember if it was a holiday. Then I saw the police car leading the men and I knew. Saville asked me what was happening. I told him it was a funeral procession and that that meant someone died. His face expressionless, he asked "Who died?"  Just then the hearse passed. On the roof was a large floral arrangement with a photo in the center. I pointed and said "Some old Asian man." He turned his head to watch as much as his seatbelt would allow and then said, "I wanna hear the pokerface song." 


I suppose indifference is hereditary.