I’ve been in a little bit of a mood lately, one of those squirmy, restless moods like when your boxers are bunching up and pinching just a bit in the wrong places but you’re in polite company and you can’t get them adjusted just right, you know, only it’s in my head. (No, I don’t wear boxers on my head…well there was that one time…well, that’s a story for another day…or maybe not.) Where was I? Oh. This mood is not a great feeling, as you can imagine. I’m not sure where it came from or why it won’t go away. I have every reason to be as light and airy as a cloud. I had a meeting Wednesday evening that filled me with enthusiasm for my book prospects, and I came home determined to write something witty and engaging. But it was like trying to sculpt something out of poo: whatever you think you’ve created, it’s still poo. I don’t like anything I write. My mood won’t leave - my metaphorical boxers are still bunched up.
But I’m not without resources. When I’m in this sort of mood, I go to YouTube and watch, again, Paul Potts’ very first audition for Britain’s Got Talent (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmm0nEmHniw). If you haven’t seen it, you should. This unassuming, chubby, middle aged guy that you wouldn’t notice in a crowd of one walks out in front of the sharks and says he’s going to sing opera. The expressions on the judges’ faces speak volumes. Paul Potts’ expression says, ‘what the heck am I doing here?’ Then the music begins, he opens his mouth, and the expressions shift from cynical to astonished. The man has an incredible talent. He followed his passion, his dream, and his story inspires me. I bet it’ll inspire you, too.
When I’ve listened to Paul three or four times, I switch to Susan Boyles in her first audition for Britain’s Got Talent (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zs1_P3lFja0&feature=related). She comes onstage this frumpy (sorry, Susan) middle aged woman who gets some pretty odd looks from audience and judges alike, then she stuns the entire room with a voice true and confident and powerful. Wow.
Thank you, Paul. Thank you, Susan. You inspire the rest of us whose dreams sometimes get sidetracked and delayed.
I think my boxers are getting unbunched.
Thanks for your time.