Short Stories from my many careers
Member of the European Army Chorus
Europe has many opera houses. Not just the major cities but also smaller towns. While singing with the European Army Chorus I discovered that the Regensburg Opera, a middling-sized-city and house, was cancelling its performance that night of Die Zauberflötte (Magic Flute) because the singer for the role of Papageno was unavailable. I called them and offered my services.
Two hours by train, I sang several of the arias and duets, the costume came close to fitting me, all that was necessary was to work out the stage blocking. We did that, and nobody broke any bones. There was a review in the Regensburg Newspaper the next day. Basically, it said “Uninspired, but Adequate.” I decided to settle for Adequate and be happy.
Defense Attaché Operations Officer, Bogotå, Colombia
I was out and about the city when I received a radio message saying the US Ambassador had been kidnapped by terrorists at the Dominican Republic National Day celebration, along with the rest of the non-communist ambassadors. I got the address, went immediately. On arrival I stood looking at the gunfight, only able to see the good guys. They were all facing the wrong way. That's when I realized I was on the wrong side of the street, having been off by one digit in the address. I found I was displayed in front of a large tree, the most inviting target in the battle.
I quickly moved to the safer side of the tree as I watched police and military being killed around me. I could carry a pistol, but was unarmed. I looked in the right direction and the ambassador's driver was frozen, pinned down in the midst of the bullets. I low-crawled out and pulled him to safety. That wasn't brave, it was foolish. A thin line separates them.
I reported until the real reporters from the embassy got there, passed on what I had, loaded driver into my armored van. Ran two road blocks under fire. I wasn't worried. Radioed embassy for doctor to meet me in courtyard and refuse permission for anyone to question him until he'd checked driver over. Real need was for anti-anxiety meds. Doc was a friend, all went well.
That night the embassy compound came under attack from armed mob. Each mil officer given command of a sector. Somebody's head popped up, shot at me. Next time he popped up I shot back. I'm pretty sure he's dead. Not my problem.
I was stopped once by freedom fighters/terrorists who demanded I give them everything, including vehicle and clothes. I talked to them, agreed with them about most things, wondered why they were trying to steal from someone sympathetic to their cause. They were embarrassed, let me go. I gave them the equivalent of $10 or $50, don't remember. We shook hands, I left. This shit is easy once you realize that most people all agree on most stuff. Why focus on the tiny fraction of the pie where there is disagreement?
NSC Staffer
I had gone out of town to visit a rocket scientist. At the time I was carrying credentials as a Federal Special Agent. I was operating in the United States, was officially connected to the Government, and was using my real name. I had no need to use an alias. As I was leaving, the scientist said to me, “Goodbye, Mr. Heath . . . or whatever your real name is.” There’s no way to answer that without making matters worse.
Top-Tier Global Management Consultant
I was restructuring the Presidential Guard (rough equivalent of our Secret Service) in an Arab country. Members of the Presidential Guard were only drawn from the nobility in the country, and a Corporal may own a Rolls Royce for six months, get bored with it, and give it away to a friend. Money had no meaning.
I was learning Arabic by using words as I heard them. Sitting in a room with eight or ten Arabs, each armed with a rifle, I understood their commander to say he had a farm on which he grew vegetables to give away to the poor. I asked him how big his farm was, and had every rifle in the room pointed at me. It seemed I had not heard one word correctly: farm. The word I repeated is an obscene term for penis.
Executive with a High Tech Company
I flew to Brazil to talk to Embraer, where we were competing to become their technology partner. We were met by members of our local office, and taken to a major hotel. They suggested we get a good night’s sleep and talk in the morning. The next morning, they arrived to find me reading the local newspapers. The real answer is simple: Portuguese is a dialect of Spanish, something that’s never said out loud in either Portugal or Brazil. I never learned to speak Portuguese; instead, I speak a combination usually called Portuñol.
There are many cognates, and many spelling/pronunciation rules that show how to translate between the two. Or, you can wing it. I chose to wing it. I asked a very proper lady one evening how to find a bus; how was I supposed to know it was slang for a woman’s genitalia? The woman’s husband was quite upset. We went to dinner where, trying to order off the menu, I wound up with a very small fish and the largest bottle of ketchup I have ever seen. Eventually, I went from table to table until I found what I wanted. I summoned the maitre’ d’ and pointed at it, then at my table. It turned out to be quite tasty.
The presentation was uneventful. Until the end, anyway. I bade the audience farewell and thank you, or “muito obrigado.” Unfortunately, I said, “muito embriagado,” or “I am very drunk.” A fun time was had by all.
At the airport on our way back to the US, I overheard a young woman reporting a bomb threat. She reported that a man kept repeating “bomba,” which could only mean “bomb.” Actually, it means “pump” and the man, a security guard, was discussing a gas station he was buying. I’m sure they got it all straightened out. I went to the First Class Lounge and began lubricating myself for the return trip to the US.
Held is German for Hero. A Heldentenor is a heroic tenor, particularly the roles written by Wagner.
I'd pay good money to have unlimited access to your memory.