"When I was ten, my father looked at me and said Borge - how old are you?"
I said "ten".
He said, "Shame on you Borge! When I was your age, I was twelve."
He conducted our orchestra for a benefit concert back in the '60s. He walked onto the podium, and motioned for everyone to play the tuning note "A". As we all played the A, he scanned the orchestra, then pointed to the back of the second violin section. We stopped playing, and Borge walked back to the violins, took one out of the player's hands, plucked the strings a few times, scowled at the player - and the audience. He then smashed the violin onto the floor. (it was a dummy violin - but the effect was hysterically funny.
He accompanied a rather buxom young soprano, who made the mistake of laying her arm on Borge's piano. He banged on the keys, stood up, and bellowed "If you lean on my piano, I'll lean on your beautiful coloratura."