I have spoken to people in Rome. I have been translated into Portugese in real time. I have asked Bill Gates a question. (He thought it was stupid, which, as it turned out, it may have been. Let's not go there.)
And yet, it is only now that I have now experienced the apex of my public speaking career. I have talked to about 10 pre-schoolers (it was a like a swarm; there were so many I could not possibly count them) about birds for 25 minutes IN A ROW.
They -- I refer here to the nightmare swarm of small faces, hands, feet, arms and legs -- have been learning about birds and bugs this month. I was invited in to speak about birds. And I brought, like, 6 books with pictures. And I made notes. And I got there, and babbled. I used pictures as a helpful aid. Have you ever REALLY looked at the Audubon paintings? There's some ugly stuff in there. I mean, I knew one kid -- one of my son's friends -- liked peregrine falcons, so I turned to that page. That duck looks like aliens burst out through its breast. Turns out, of course, that they LIKED that stuff. Blue jays eat other birds' eggs? Hey, nature, red in tooth in claw, they responded. One kid even volunteered that the jays probably eat baby birds.
I was the entertainment for the kids while the teachers set up a play for them to perform. That meant that the parents were filing in while I was talking. It was at approximately this point that I imitated a screech owl, a barred owl, and a great horned owl, luckily without law enforcement hearing any of it. And in a final ending moment of desperation as the kids drifted across the carpet, no longer transfixed by the sight of a grown man imitating birds, I told them about how vultures defend themselves.
Got their attention. I think their parents thought it was cool, too. That was probably why they formed a posse and got a bunch of torches and clubs. I sat in the back row during the play.