There are no grades of vanity, there are only grades of ability in concealing it.
I was feeling good.I had an audition in Seattle, I was
rested, my clothing all matched, no holes in stockings or underwear.
And to top it off, the I-5 commute was especially kind, giving me
plenty of time to park, sit and breathe, walk to the building and sit
and breath again, before my audition. Giddy with the intoxication of
being in the zone.I gathered my things from the car to walk to the
Seattle Center. Before locking the door, I saw my glasses sitting in
the cup holder.
I knew, as soon as I saw them that I should take them with
me and I even had a brief visit from common sense with the very
audible thought, “you should take these with you.”
I should have suspected that there was trouble in my mental
ranks because there was an immediate counter that made all the sense
in the world in the moment but in hindsight reveals the kind of crazy
that causes those who truly love us to roll their eyes, mouth a few
words of disbelief and walk away.
“Nah, they’ll mess with my line.”
For those who are bewildered by this line of thought-no pun
intended. Line is the silhouette that an outfit gives. Good line
flatters the form and give one the ability to walk into a new
situation feeling James Brown good. Gentleman, this is why your wife
or girlfriend will demand that you carry her wallet when you go out
for a night on the town. She doesn’t want her line to have unnatural
bumps or bulges. She has worked very to get all the bulges to go in
the right direction and stay in place-hence that is why you have become the
designated wallet lackey. You are going a great service.
I know. This logic in the big picture come off, well…vain
and crazy. Se la vie.
So in the best interest of line, I left my glasses in the car
cup holder. Feeling certain that the current condition of my eyeballs
that required the use of such spectacles would step aside for the sake
This was not the case.
My audition was no longer an exploration of character and job
interview-it was a music lesson. More specifically a trombone concert.
The script I was reading became the visible slide to my invisible
trombone. I shifted the paper away and toward my face in the hope
that the words would stop swimming or at least stop breaking up on the
My audition became a performance piece entitled, “Humility, destroys
line.” I would like to think that the director and the person that I
was reading with did not notice my little silent concert.
As I returned to the car and saw my glasses still sitting in
the cup holder, I laughed to myself at the thoroughness of this lesson
learned. Like a good line, there was optical illusion.
Line is good, but be sure to take the glasses.