The great fun of a good lie

SHERWOOD KIRALY

I was present at Tivoli Too for the recent American Assn. of

University Women dinner honoring seven women of achievement. The

seventh of these, Carol Reynolds, was unaware she was to be honored

and was shocked, at the end of the program, to find the program

wasn’t ended.

The organizers of the surprise had a tricky job to do because

Carol was the emcee for the evening and doing quite a bit of

organizing herself. But they were afraid if she knew she was getting

an award she wouldn’t show up, so the subterfuge was necessary.

Besides, it’s more fun to fool someone.

The presence at the dinner of her grand-daughter and son-in-law

was explained by my wife, Patti Jo, who told Carol I was going to

write about the event and Katie was being trained to behave correctly

at organized social functions. Carol fell for it like a rube at a

fair.

There were a few near-disasters leading up to the evening,

including a card that came to Carol’s house the day of the dinner,

congratulating her on getting the award. She was on her way out the

door and didn’t open it.

During the dinner, one of Carol’s other grand-children, Sarah,

sneaked in and sat in the back. She turned her head every time Carol

addressed the audience, which might have disconcerted a less assured

speaker.

The evening’s honorees were each introduced to enthusiastic

applause; each spoke briefly and graciously. Finally, with the

program concluded, the trap was sprung. Carol, sitting at her table,

looked around and was confronted with that sight we all like to face

now and then: a standing ovation. As she told Patti Jo later, she was

genuinely touched. And her expression satisfied us.

Not everyone likes to be surprised, but everyone likes to

surprise. Earlier in the evening, women kept coming up to Patti Jo

and delighted in saying, “She doesn’t know, she doesn’t know!” You’d

have thought they were setting somebody up to slip on a wet floor.

It’s the lying that gives these events their zest. You get to

deceive someone without hearing from your conscience. You’re a benign

con artist; you feel complex, mysterious, capable of great

stratagems.

I secretly set up a birthday party for Patti Jo a few years back

and lied to her continually for three weeks leading up to it. She no

longer believes a word I say, but it was worth it. You should have

seen her face.

* SHERWOOD KIRALY is a Laguna Beach resident. He has written four

novels, three of which were critically acclaimed.