Here’s one of those things you’re probably just as well off not knowing:
“That was some beautiful playing,” I said afterward, as we were helping break down the canopy over the grave.
“Actually, it was a recording,” the cemetery guy said.
“But he had a bugle.”
“Not a real bugle. It’s just a stereo that looks like one. You push play and hold it up to your lips.” The man shook his head. “I’ve seen the batteries go out sometimes when they’re halfway through. Talk about awkward. One time the damn thing quit and started playing later, from its case, smack dab in the middle of the eulogy.”