Sudden and unexpected

I’m charmed by the definition of epiphany: 

A sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something.

The curtain drawing back, unexpectedly. I suppose it happens to all of us. But if one leads a humdrum life, as I have, epiphanies are likely to be small rather than grand events.

Perhaps this is too esoteric to interest anyone else. I was flying to Sweden to visit a manufacturer. The MD of the company’s British subsidiary was disposed to chat (Not everyone chats to journalists). Part of his job, he said, was quite risky: “buying  money” in another currency while guessing whether its relative value would go up or down. A couple of million at a time. I’d never imagined this formed part of a senior manager’s workload. I listened, and asked questions. He told me more. The other journalists on the plane probably talked about soccer.

Valerie Singleton was the star of a long-running TV children’s programme called Blue Peter. As a freelance she presented a mini-extravaganza launching new forklift trucks. Later she mingled with the press. I was impressed by her outwardness, the way her answers deliberately encouraged other questions. And her friendliness. These qualities were authentic and I realised could be legitimately hired out.

A US attorney invited VR and me to a dinner of eight and teased my nationality relentlessly. But funnily. An opportunity arose for him to demonstrate a skill as he berated British incompetence. I told him Brits were good at choosing their servants. The US others laughed good-naturedly. He hung his head, mock fashion, and said: “So far: Brits 1, Yanks 0.” Raucously but with an inner grace. The attorney’s ethnicity lay at the heart of this; his “apology” was unexpected and I was grateful.