Betsy and I once hosted two Tibetan monks at our home. They were part of a travelling group of monks who could chant polyphonically with just one voice (no joke). Put 20 of them together and it was quite the aural experience. Well, anyway, there was an older monk and a younger, novice monk who I believe went by the name Grasshopper (OK, that's a joke). We had two bedrooms for them, and the older monk immediately glommed onto the bigger one. We thought that perhaps he wanted it for the space, but when we went back to check on him a little later, he and the younger monk were happily ensconced in front of the television watching baseball. "There goes 20,000 years of Eastern culture down the drain," I commented to Betsy as we snuck back to our bedroom.