Sunday, 4 August 2013

Why I Never Became An Actor #1


When I was a kid I wanted to be an actor.  Somewhere along The Line it all went wrong.  So I thought I’d chronicle some of The Low Points on this path to why I didn’t follow this particular dream.

Every year I tried to get roles in The School Play, usually with humiliating responses.

When I was eight, during The Annual Christmas Play I was relegated to The Usual Role of nothing.  At lunchtime, I sat with The Friends in The Lunch Hall.


My shaking walk was slow and heavy.  When I finally reached The Headteacher’s Office, she was going on about bells.



Eventually, when I could hear again over The Flow Of Blood in The Head, I worked out that I wasn’t in trouble and that she needed some children to play The Bells in The Play.

Why she had me called out at lunchtime, why I was picked at all and why she seemed to think I should know what she was talking about, wasn’t explained.

But my part in The Tune was simple.  I was The Tallest, therefore I had The Biggest And Deepest Bell.  The others played a tune, and at The End, I went DONG.


The others were idiots and could never remember The Tune.  I tuned out.


So The Day of The Performance came.  I wore a gold waistcoat, mainly because I loved any excuse to wear a waistcoat, but The Gold had a bell-like charm.

And in we went as The Hall filled up.  But when we went over to The Orchestra, The Angry Conductor, who had never seen us before, chased us away.


So we joined The Choir, where we were chased away for having instruments.


We returned to The Orchestra.


This farce continued a few more times until we were found a space in front of everyone.  The Play rolled on, and then came our tune.



The others got it right.  They finally got it right.

I couldn’t believe it.  My moronic team hadn’t had one successful rehearsal but they had finally cracked it.


I had one role in this show and it was The Cue for The Wise Men.



I’d forgotten The DONG.




No comments:

Post a Comment

I look forward to your enthusiastic and loving comment.