When I was seventeen, I went on a trip that was called "the U.N. Trip." Sponsored and organized by the Methodist Church, it was so that high school students could learn about the United Nations - and other parts of history and current events, too.
For example, on the way from the Midwest to New York City (by bus), we stopped and saw Gettysburg, and the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia.
The group included high school students from all over the state - a boy named Arnie, two girls in my group named Dawn, and Rhonda, and one kid from a big town near where I lived, who wanted to have a career as a minister - and many more.
When we got to New York City, it was just fantastic. We went a lot of places, and did a lot of things. It was fun, and interesting, and you got really tired, because you were going, all the time.
One night, we saw a show at the very famous Radio City Music Hall.
As we were coming out of the theater, into the lobby, I knew I was going to yawn, and put up my hand to cover my mouth, of course - but people can still see if you are yawning - and this man wearing a uniform (maybe he was an usher, or some other type of employee at the theater) just chanced to see me cover my yawn, and he said, with a sort of jaunty insouciance, "Must be the company, can't be the hour!"
He said it as if it were an old, well-known expression.
And with that Manhattan accent -
"Must be da company, can't be dee ow-ah!"
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