There I was in Italy at the U.S. Pavilion of the Milan Biennial Electronic exhibition. I had signed up for a booth for WILTRON; I had never been to Milan—so why not—it was real easy. The U.S. Department of Commerce made all the arrangements—the building of the booth, the carpeting, the electricity, even the interpreter. Ah yes, the interpreter—Graziella (pronounced Graciella) was her name. She was the sort of girl that you leave home for.

My home life at that time was pretty bad—my wife and I were definitely going separate ways. I hadn’t given myself time to reflect on all that might be missing in my marriage, but meeting Graziella made me do so.
It was a busy week—most of the visitors were Italian, and many of them needed the help of my attractive interpreter


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