I am thinking of a creative phenomenon that to me is
magical, wonderful – indecipherable to the senses but indisputably extant.
Opaqueness, anyone?
You have come to the right place.
The creative phenomenon in question is this:
Without effort or premeditation, your personality miraculously
materializes in your work.
In fact, effort and premeditation are this creative phenomenon’s
Kryptonite. You mobilize those weapons and it recedes meekly and
disappears. Or the creative phenomenon makes no appearance whatsoever. In which case, the Kryptonite analogy falls ignominiously
apart. Inadvertently making my original point.
Do you see what happens when you try too hard?
There was one time, I recall today, when I did not try at all.
And it turned out magnificently.
It is a waning winter afternoon in the late 1960’s. I am ensconced in a darkened theater in
Toronto called the Crest, watching a
rehearsal for a perennial Canadian revue, Spring
Thaw.
I no longer recall what I was doing there. It was likely that I was invited – along with
other local comedy writers – in hopes that I’d submit material to the
show. As it turns out, I didn’t, the
revue suffering negligibly from my absent contribution.
There is also the possibility that I was present that day
because word had been surreptitiously disseminated that during the rehearsal a
voluptuous French-Canadian dancer named Nicole – I will leave you to guess
which French-Canadian Nicole that was – would be unveiling an interpretative
dance she’d be performing, entirely in the nude.
That’ll make you
skip Spin and Marty for a day.
This was the era of Oh!
Calcutta!, a hugely successful American – although created by English
theater critic Kenneth Tynan – revue, a sex-themed extravaganza in which nudity
was on prominent display. The salatial
“Exchange Rate” being what it is, a cast of eight naked Americans converted into
a lone French-Canadian girl dancing provocatively on a dimly lit stage.
Which turned out to be plenty.
Anyway… as I get that picture out of my mind…
After the males in the audience eventually returned to
regular breathing, and the rehearsal eventually came to an end, the gathered assemblage
rose from their seats and we headed for the exits.
At that moment – as was the case that entire afternoon – my
teeth were clamped tightly on the stub of an unlit Hav-A-Tampa cigar. (With its
recognizable wooden stem.)
As we entered the lobby, the producer of that year’s Spring Thaw outing began talking to me. We did not know each other and he had never
spoken to me before. This was entirely
out of the blue.
It was an unkept secret that that particular producer was
universally despised. The man was
supercilious, abrasive, dictatorial and crude.
(PLACE “IF HE WERE RUNNING FOR THE REPUBLICAN NOMINATION HE WOULD
PROBABLY WIN” JOKE HERE.)
Everyone hated that guy.
But nobody dared take him on.
Because he was the producer. And
he could give you a job.
So we are coming into the lobby and this monumental chalaria points to my vestigial stub of
a cigar and he says,
“Do you have another
one of those things?”
To which I immediately reply, in a non-confrontational tone,
“I barely have this
one.”
What came next was an ear-shattering thunderclap, the assemblage
exploding with extended – and clearly liberating – hilarity. The producer at first appeared
bewildered. And then, deflatingly defeated.
My explanation for that glorious happenstance?
I had said the right thing at the right time. But more importantly – for this writing at
least – I had said it the right way.
Which, it turns out, is my
way.
That’s the magical and wonderful part. There was a definitive “me” in the way I did
it.
I had confronted authority with a feather. Emerging heroic and victorious.
I felt on top of the world.
Not because I had eviscerated an idiot.
But because I had done it with style.
1 comment:
Do you think that if you had thought about it first, you might not have said what you did? Was it that fact that you responded without thinking it through that allowed you to say it? Or am I completely off base and missing the fact that you didn't care what this jerk thought about you?
Whatever - it was a great line and I laughed and didn't even know the guy.
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