I had the opportunity to travel with Dad twice to Russia, formerly known as the Soviet Union, as Dad preferred to refer to it; he also insisted in calling St. Petersburg, Leningrad, it was his little inside joke with the Russians. On both trips it was Dad, myself, a driver and the translator so there was always plenty of time for Dad to quiz the poor translator. On this particular day the subject was great Russian authors. They waxed poetic about Gogol, Goncharov, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky... the list went on and on. Finally they seemed to remember that I was in the car and Dad asked my who I thought was the greatest Russian author. Huh? Thankfully, every now and then Dad's gene for BS seems to kick in with me and I quickly answered "What about Mr. Chekhov?" Dad and the translator were both stunned that they had both missed listing Mr. Chekhov among the best. They were both very impressed that after their long list I was able to add a name they had forgotten. I never did confess to Dad that while he was talking about great Russian authors I was talking about the character from Star Trek.
Chris
In keeping with the theme of BS and full disclosure, I had to Google the names of all of those Russian authors.
No comments:
Post a Comment