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Of funerals, weddings and other parties
Of funerals, weddings and other parties
Of funerals, weddings and other parties
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Of funerals, weddings and other parties

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Of funerals, weddings and other parties is the third of a series of 'Fleeting Moments'. These stories take the reader on a journey through the remarkable life and times of Walter Gordon Fischer. These autobiographical stories are told in Gordon's inimitable wry style as he journeys through the world in the search of adventure under the guise of making a living.

The stories of his travels are littered with larger than life characters from duchesses to divas, tycoons to tyrants with a backdrop of cocktail parties, revolutions and close shaves. This selection of stories capture happy, sad and hilarious episodes as Gordon continues his hapless adventures.

Gordon was born in New York in 1930. His curiosity about the world and its peoples has led him to 92 different countries at the last count and his appetite for travel is still undiminished. His stories hop from childhood memories to recent events and back again capturing the delightful and the duplicitous, the dangerous and decorous. The length of his life and the extent of his travel have made Gordon's real-life stories amazing and fascinating. His experiences are presented to the reader through self deprecating narrative giving tiny snap-shots of humanity in its many forms. That Gordon speaks seven different languages is a testament to his interest in people and their cultures. He has collected arts and artifacts along the way which colorful, entertaining and amusing much as are his stories.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 6, 2011
ISBN9781458186867
Of funerals, weddings and other parties
Author

Gordon Fischer

Gordon was born in New York in 1930. His curiosity about the world and its peoples has led him to 92 different countries at the last count and his appetite for travel is still undiminished. His stories hop from childhood memories to recent events and back again capturing the delightful and the duplicitous, the dangerous and decorous. The length of his life and the extent of his travel have made Gordon's real-life stories amazing and fascinating. His experiences are presented to the reader through self deprecating narrative giving tiny snap-shots of humanity in its many forms. That Gordon speaks seven different languages is a testament to his interest in people and their cultures. He has collected arts and artifacts along the way which are colorful, entertaining and amusing much as are his stories.

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    Book preview

    Of funerals, weddings and other parties - Gordon Fischer

    Of funerals, weddings and other parties

    Book 3 – Fleeting Moments

    Copyright 2011 Walter Gordon Fischer.

    Walter Gordon Fischer has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Table of Contents

    A Peruvian ghost from the past hails me on the high street of Oxford: she was the harbinger of news that changed my life

    After a non-amorous meeting at a three day Brahmin wedding in Madras the beautiful Miss India, Surya Kumari, spontaneously decides to come and seduce me in New York

    A marital mismatch

    The ghastly funeral of my Korean partner, the dynamic Peter Ohm

    My partner Ames Brown had a premonition about his early death, like his father’s

    An attractive English woman entered my life. She became my stepmother and made my father a very happy man

    Celebrating Christmas in St Moritz with champagne and rockets

    An invitation to Kildermorie in the Highlands of Scotland

    Real tennis tournament conflicts with wine-tasting in Bordeaux with Lord Aberdare

    A Peruvian ghost from the past hails me on the high street of Oxford: she was the harbinger of news that changed my life

    At noon, on a bright August day in 2001, I impatiently tried to thread my way though the crowds on Cornmarket Street, a bustling pedestrian through fare at the heart of Oxford. I was, as usual, in a hurry. I was only vaguely aware of the coming and going of university students, eccentric dons, gawking tourists with dripping McDonald ice cream cones in hand, anxious local trades people, ragged peddlers of useless gadgets, and aspiring itinerant musicians: some blasted out the usual Liverpool Beatles pop, while others in Inca costumes played the more exotic hit flute tunes from the Peruvian altiplano.

    I was determined not to be late to the weekly lecture course on 19th century bel canto Italian opera that I was attending. The not-to-be-missed lecture was a specialty of the charismatic musical critic, Jonathan Darnborough. I also was thinking about my A-level course in Russian; I still hadn’t fully prepared the assignment for that evening.

    Suddenly, through the din of buzzing voices, I vaguely heard a woman’s voice, with a slight Spanish accent. She cried out, ‘Gordon! Gordon! You’re Gordon Fischer, aren’t you? Gordon!’

    My reflective reaction was: ‘this strange voice can’t be calling for me: it must be for some other Gordon Fischer.’

    Within seconds, an attractive, chicly-dressed woman in her mid- forties approached me and smiled, ‘You’re Gordon Fischer, aren’t you?’

    I blinked and said, ‘Well, yes.’ I wanted to say, ‘you look like good news, but who in the hell are you?’ But out of politeness, I restrained myself. I just nodded and flashed a wan smile. ‘Who was she?’ I thought. My mind was a complete blank.

    ‘’Don’t you remember me?’ she asked.

    I thought she could have been some former girlfriend, but I wasn’t sure. Not wanting to be rude, I lied, ‘Well, of course, you do look familiar.’ Yet I still didn’t have a clue who she might be. This was beginning to become embarrassing. Then I intuitively thought, maybe this is some sort of a set-up. Somebody is trying to pull my leg. It’s happened to me before. So I immediately went into my defensive mode.

    The mystery woman said, ‘I’m Patricia. Patricia Sabogal. I used to work for you. For two years, while you and Diana lived in Lima. I was your personal assistant. Now you remember?’

    ‘Ah! Yes, of course.’ I said, and realized that I hadn’t seen Patricia or heard from her in twenty years. She had disappeared completely from my life. The last time I saw her she was in Lima, Peru. What an extraordinary coincidence! Patricia was a Peruvian; I was an American. How could we have met again, of all places, in Cornmarket Street in Oxford? In Peru, she and I had always spoken Spanish together. I thought her English had improved greatly.

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