Ingrid Bergman Made Me Learn Norwegian 

I did well in high school Spanish and French. When you've pumped heavy iron, lifting a salad fork seems easy. When you're thrown into a grammar as complex as Latin's at the age of fourteen, just about any other language seems easy. I never quit thanking Spanish, French, German, Italian, Norwegian, Danish, Swedish, Romanian and Yiddish just for

not being Latin. I've always been particularly grateful to Chinese and Indonesian for having nothing in their entire languages a Latin student would recognise as grammar.

It was so enjoyable building my knowledge of Spanish, French, Italian and Chinese, I never thought of taking on any other languages. Then I saw an Ingrid Bergman movie and came out in a daze. I'd never imagined a woman could be that attractive. I went

directly to the adjoining bookstore and told the clerk, "I want a book in whatever language it is she speaks."

Miss Bergman's native tongue, the clerk told me, was Swedish, and he bought forth a copy of Hugo's Swedish Simplified. It cost two dollars and fifty cents. I only had two dollars with me.

"Do you have anything similar – cheaper?" I asked.

He did indeed. He produced a volume entitled Hugo's Norwegian Simplified for only one dollar and fifty cents.

"Will she understand if I speak to her in this? " I asked, pointing to the less expensive Norwegian text. The clerk assured me that yes, any American speaking Norwegian would be understood by any native Swede.

He was right. A lifetime later, at age thirty, I wheedled an exclusive radio interview with Ingrid Bergman on the strength of my ability in her language. She was delighted when I told her the story. Or at least she was a nice enough person and a good enough actress to pretend.