This is a fish story. Not a "fishy" story, but a story about fish.
Hurricane Irene wreaked havoc for many a few weeks ago, but it created a unique experience for a group of fish in an upscale community in Westchester, New York, when huge waves from The Sound topped beach barricades and overflowed into the swimming pool of an exclusive yacht club. A number of fish from the sea rode the waves and took up residence in the "private" pool.
For some of the fish it was the dream of a lifetime; for others, not so much.
A deep-sea reporter fluent in fish talk interviewed some of the fish, just before they were evicted from the pool. She wanted to get their reactions to their startling adventure.
An older fish flipped her fins and remarked, "I had an OK time, but I wasn't crazy about the chlorine pollution."
A teenaged fish said he especially enjoyed listening to the comments of the human swimmers. "They kept complaining about having to share their pool with us. What are we, chopped liver?"
His companion agreed. "You'd think we were asking them to sleep with the fishes," she remarked. "And hey, if they were in a tropical vacation resort, they'd be paying big bucks to SWIM with the fishes. So what's their problem?"
The night after the hurricane, at exactly 6 p.m., as the fish were unceremoniously snagged from the pool and dumped back into the sea, they broke out in spontaneous song. Which song, you ask? What else? The 1950 folk tune popularized by The Weavers, "Good night, Irene." The beautiful harmonies of the fish were heard from the sea on that night, and on every night since, at the bewitching hour of six o'clock in the evening:
Irene goodnight, Irene goodnight
Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene
I'll see you in my dreams