It was at the beginning of a family vacation in San Diego this week when I got the email: would I be Master of Ceremonies for EBAN‘s (the European Business Angels Network) Awards Gala in Moscow, April 23rd?
I was completely surprised and delighted. Paulo Andrez made the offer. I could instantly remember our recent time together on the Show, and in Warsaw last Spring as well. At a break during last year’s conference he approached and asked what panel I was on; was I speaking? No, I’m just here to enjoy the conference. “I’ll change that!” And the next thing I know I’m kicking off the ceremony, warming up the audience for the biggest awards gala for business angels in Europe. I loved it and this last-minute moment in the spotlight came a year after my MC role in Istanbul. To be invited to Moscow this year — well, it’s as if I were Billy Crystal returning to the Academy Awards.
As the elation wears off I begin thinking of what I’ll say. In Istanbul everyone kept asking what jokes I’d be telling, but I’m more into off-color stories than perky one-liners. At my age I can forget the punchline. At one point during the Istanbul gala I remember Brigitte Bauman, EBAN’s Chair, saying — I could hear her voice above the crowd — “He’s making fun of me!” She hadn’t received the advance copy of my remarks and she wasn’t exactly pleased to be the subject of my barbs at that moment. She must’ve forgotten…
As I continue thinking of what I should say to get this multilingual, multicultural audience all amped-up — I realize it is an almost impossible task; so, my mind drifts to long-ago United States politics, the defunct USSR, and former President Ronald Reagan.
My wife was the first one in the family to have personal stories of dealing with the Reagans — Nancy in particular. Her firm was doing engineering for the ranch and my wife would sometimes be on the receiving end of Mrs. Reagan’s telephone calls.
My story begins one night at LAX many years later. I had met my brother-in-law Lou at his hotel; we would have dinner and drinks before his late night flight home to Boston. It must have been after the drinks-part that we noticed the commotion in the Ballroom — Ronald Reagan was speaking to an enthusiastic audience. I don’t remember the year, but this was after his presidency.
Of course, we wanted in, but security didn’t see any name tags, so there was little discussion about joining the party. Lou and I hung back, we could hear Ronnie through the open doors as many in the audience stepped out to visit the restroom, which was immediately opposite the ballroom entrance.
That’s when I noticed that security was waving everybody returning from the restrooms back in. Would this work for us? It only took a minute to test this plan — into the restroom we go then time our exit with a small crowd returning. The next thing we know we’re in the ballroom with over 1,000 Reagan well-wishers.
I knew from experience that there would likely be empty seats right up at the front; besides, no one would recognize us if we tried to sit at a mostly full table near the back. I led all the way to the front of the room and sat at a mostly empty front-row table, my back to the room.
Now I don’t think I’d ever been to a political gathering like this before, but I’d seen enough campaign speeches on TV to know that a popular politician will have lots of laugh lines, pauses in his remarks that will likely be greeted with applause. I would make sure of this…
Just minutes after we sit, trying to stifle our school-boy giggles — no one notices our mirth because Ronnie’s telling a joke. The minute he pauses to catch his breath I start clapping as loud as I can and in half a heartbeat, the whole room joins me. And so it would go for the remainder of his speech. The man couldn’t take a breath without me leading the audience in applause.
Monkey-business? Maybe just a little, but everyone else must have thought I was a huge fan.
Then comes the moment I’ll never forget.
Is that sounding familiar? Are my ears playing tricks on me?
Ronnie’s winding up the same joke he told just as we sat down — that’s right — it’s the same joke!
Today we know of his eventual dementia, at this moment in time it was probably considered just part of his charm.
I can feel the awkward silence in the room as he continues, but I knew just what to do as he built to his punchline — I leapt out of my chair howling and applauding wildly — I lead the audience in a standing ovation!
His faux pas, his joke redux, became the highlight of the evening.
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Can the man take credit for the break up of the Soviet Union? My memory of history is less than perfect — I seem to remember an arms race that some may credit with bankrupting our former cold war adversary.
I’ll have to get a second opinion while I’m in Moscow…
Join me as I get the story straight, at EBAN’s Congress and Awards Ceremony, April 23-24 in Moscow. Register here.
