Eating lunch and staring at droplets of water splashing on a window, is not necessarily conducive to creativity.  But maybe it was the falling H2O that sparked a connection with my memory and I began to wonder if a famous composer could be woven into the fabric of a joke.  Suddenly, like being drenched by a monsoon type storm, it hit me.

This cloudburst walks into a bar and is about to order a round of drinks when a sprinkle, that had preceded the downpour into the tavern, squeals excitedly and points toward a table in the back. “It’s him,” she cries. The heavy shower looks where she’s pointing and with a sudden, wide-eyed grin, immediately breezes toward the man. Just as the torrent reaches his table, Burt Bacharach looks up, smiles resignedly and says, “Raindrops keep falling on my head.”

It’s glasses on the bar time…read how to Vote the Joke!