thoughts on stardom
Tuesday, Dec. 07, 2004
An understudy? Me?
That just doesn't sound right.
I was destined for stardom. For riches. And most important, recognition.
Even my name means Little Prince.
Why, wasn't it I who judged my subjects with a silent frown from the perch of my royal high chair?
Didn't I as a four-year-old ask my sister what type of pony she wanted once I became a millionaire?
I was even voted patrol leader of my Boy Scout Troop, even though I get lost inside tents, let alone the woods.
No, there must be some sort of mistake.
Maybe if I stand in the corner and look important. Or stern. Or sternly important. Like George Washington.
I mean, how can they make George Washington an understudy!
And yet, that's exactly what they did.
Ergo my ego has taken a hit.
And it's a very fragile thing, my ego. Much like the ecosystem. My egosystem. Spill a couple more gallons of understudy oil on me and my confidence will myer in the crud like a tar-covered pelican that can't flap its wings.
Fine. I'll bide my time. I'll wait in the shadows. I'll pout.
But know this, Company Members: some moment when you least expect it, George Washington, all covered in tar, will leap into your spotlight.
And a star will be born.
Steve Anacker
Lila Theatre Understudy
