Harold is an old man who goes to the theatre. He does not hear very well and his eyes are bad. Mostly he likes the people. He always sits at the front and claps in all the wrong places and yells out Marxist slogans during tender moments and calls the actors by their real names. (once he went to see a play where at one point a watermelon would roll out and surprise the audience, and he went back several times so that just before the watermelon would roll out he could yell: ‘Here come the watermelon!’ Things like that) Most people suffer Harold grudgingly and roll their eyes when they see him in line, but when he dies there will be a big award named after him: and everyone will want to win it.