One of my business dealings involved a large international Italian company. This relationship required many trips throughout Europe and Central Asia. My colleague from this company was a dapper 40ish year old named Giovanni Lispi. Giovanni accompanied me from Milan to Dublin to visit business associates in Ireland. It was a late winter night in 1999 when we landed late at the Dublin airport and grabbed a cab to take us to the Jurys Inn in City Centre Dublin. Of course, Giovanni was in his high-style Italian clothes with his $500 chic winter jacket covering his $1000 custom-made suit and at least $200 shoes, a somewhat stark comparison with me sitting next to him in my standard JC Penny suite and workman Florsheim shoes. As we turned out of the airport the cabbie, in a heavy Irish accent, asked if it was ok to play some music on the CD player. No reason for us to disagree so he pushed in the CD and to our surprise it started playing an opera song, not the expected tourist-oriented Irish tune with bodhrans, flutes and fiddles? After a few red lights, the cabbie turns around and asked if we liked this music? Giovanni said he had heard the tune before, but it sounded different. The cabbie responded that it was an Italian opera song, being sung in Spanish. With that clue, Giovanni immediately recognized the song, saying it was a favorite of his and one of the more popular ones in Italy, but he was still puzzled by the unique sound. The cabbie asked if he liked the sound of the lead baritone, and Giovanni, which at this point I now realized was a very big opera fan, responded in Italian with “si senore”. The cabbie and Giovanni then struck up a conversation in Italian. Unfortunately for me, I know maybe three words of Italian; pizza, stromboli and vino, so I was a 5th wheel as these two bonded over opera in the cab. After a few more minutes of listening to the contrasting heavy Irish accent of the cabbie and the sophisticated Italian dialogue of Giovanni, they reverted to English. Without being prompted the cabbie pops out the CD and hands it to Giovanni, he proudly proclaims that the unique sound from the CD is because he is the lead baritone! We were both flabbergasted by this proclamation. The cabbie went on to explain that being an opera singer has been his lifelong passion, but frankly there just aren't many jobs in Ireland for that skill, thus the nighttime gig at the airport. Well, I find this all interesting and somewhat comical, but all I can do is watch as Giovanni reads the listing of songs on the CD and then says he would like to hear song “numero sette”. The cabbie pops the CD back in and to our enjoyment he starts singing, of course in Spanish, another Italian opera song! Within a few seconds Giovanni joins in. What a sound, within the tight confines of the cab, the deep baritone of the cabbie and the light tenor sounds of Giovanni melded perfectly together. With a feeling of amazement and oddness, it dawns on me that as a 3rd generation Irish Catholic, I was traversing the snow-laden streets of Dublin Ireland, in a cab being driven by a part-time Irish opera singer who is performing an operatic duet with my Italian friend, all in Spanish! I knew no one would believe this story, so I chalked it up to being one of those unique moments in life that reinforces the quote, “it's not the destination that matters, it's the journey we take”.

One of my business dealings involved a large international Italian company. This relationship required many trips throughout Europe and Central Asia. My colleague from this company was a dapper 40ish year old named Giovanni Lispi. Giovanni accompanied me from Milan to Dublin to visit business associates in Ireland. It was a late winter night in 1999 when we landed late at the Dublin airport and grabbed a cab to take us to the Jurys Inn in City Centre Dublin. Of course, Giovanni was in his high-style Italian clothes with his $500 chic winter jacket covering his $1000 custom-made suit and at least $200 shoes, a somewhat stark comparison with me sitting next to him in my standard JC Penny suite and workman Florsheim shoes. As we turned out of the airport the cabbie, in a heavy Irish accent, asked if it was ok to play some music on the CD player. No reason for us to disagree so he pushed in the CD and to our surprise it started playing an opera song, not the expected tourist-oriented Irish tune with bodhrans, flutes and fiddles? After a few red lights, the cabbie turns around and asked if we liked this music? Giovanni said he had heard the tune before, but it sounded different. The cabbie responded that it was an Italian opera song, being sung in Spanish. With that clue, Giovanni immediately recognized the song, saying it was a favorite of his and one of the more popular ones in Italy, but he was still puzzled by the unique sound. The cabbie asked if he liked the sound of the lead baritone, and Giovanni, which at this point I now realized was a very big opera fan, responded in Italian with “si senore”. The cabbie and Giovanni then struck up a conversation in Italian. Unfortunately for me, I know maybe three words of Italian; pizza, stromboli and vino, so I was a 5th wheel as these two bonded over opera in the cab. After a few more minutes of listening to the contrasting heavy Irish accent of the cabbie and the sophisticated Italian dialogue of Giovanni, they reverted to English. Without being prompted the cabbie pops out the CD and hands it to Giovanni, he proudly proclaims that the unique sound from the CD is because he is the lead baritone! We were both flabbergasted by this proclamation. The cabbie went on to explain that being an opera singer has been his lifelong passion, but frankly there just aren't many jobs in Ireland for that skill, thus the nighttime gig at the airport. Well, I find this all interesting and somewhat comical, but all I can do is watch as Giovanni reads the listing of songs on the CD and then says he would like to hear song “numero sette”. The cabbie pops the CD back in and to our enjoyment he starts singing, of course in Spanish, another Italian opera song! Within a few seconds Giovanni joins in. What a sound, within the tight confines of the cab, the deep baritone of the cabbie and the light tenor sounds of Giovanni melded perfectly together. With a feeling of amazement and oddness, it dawns on me that as a 3rd generation Irish Catholic, I was traversing the snow-laden streets of Dublin Ireland, in a cab being driven by a part-time Irish opera singer who is performing an operatic duet with my Italian friend, all in Spanish! I knew no one would believe this story, so I chalked it up to being one of those unique moments in life that reinforces the quote, “It's not the destination that matters, it's the journey we take”.