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"Oh. Sorry." I got up, my head aching, and walked toward the exit. Someone opened the front door for me; I looked, and it was my man Paul, who winked as I passed.

Back outside, I lumbered toward my car with a quote from Billy Graham in my head: "My message is the gospel of Jesus Christ. It is not a western religion, nor is it a message of one culture or political system ..."

If only, I thought.

Suddenly, my thoughts, the birds, the sound of the wind, the gushy music on the speakers, everything was drowned out by a thumping disco beat. A guy next to me and I both jumped.

What the ...? Oh, OK, it's a ringtone. For Christ's sake, that's "Disco Inferno" -- and it's loud as hell.

I looked around just as a flustered, 60s-ish woman sporting a tidy hairdo and a turquoise pantsuit yanked a pink cellphone out of her Aigner purse. She stared at it for a couple of seconds, then pushed a button. "Disco Inferno" stopped, and the outdoor speakers' syrupy-slick tenor, singing about "Christ, your love for me is so awesome," filled the air again. "Hey, Doris. No, I'm just coming out of the Billy Graham museum," Hairdo Lady said, "Yes, the cow is great. She's so real-lookin', you won't believe it ..."

I got in my car and drove home. Sometimes satire is no match for reality.