Truth, Fiction, and lies

I had a friend who maintained that secrets require strategy. You don’t have unlimited secrets floating around, and some need to be closely held. But my friend was a garrulous sort who loved telling stories and revealing details of his wild and happy days in a variety of careers – coming over the Kyhber Pass- the wrong way – at the end of the Second World War and life as an intelligence officer in an allied country’s service. Outrageous stories of happy days at diplomatic postings in exotic locations followed all this during the Cold War. Retirement brought a life traveling widely as a yacht broker. I met him at a boat show in Newport, and we regularly met at boat shows every year.

His stories were refined, never vulgar, but always hinted at more behind the veil. After a while, I asked him about this. He responded that you could reveal ninety percent of who you were and never reveal the details of the other ten percent. The story enchanted people, and they rarely looked too profoundly past the surface because it was entertaining enough. Also, they had their own lives and genuinely did not want to know everything you were not telling them.

Then he smiled at me and said, ” But I’m not revealing anything you did not already know. You do the same exact thing. It’s one of the reasons I like exchanging tales with you. There’s more to see, but it’s not immediately visible.”

His wife of fifty years is editing his memoir, but I don’t think I’ll read it. I’m satisfied with the hints, mysteries, and tiny revelations offered in conversations over the years. The bald truth can be so damn dull.