Once I worked at an entertainment complex which
included an arena and a theater. It was
called Bayfront Center. The center also
included a lounge called the Backstage Lounge where alcoholic drinks were
served. The lounge was decorated with
features one might see if one were backstage of a theater—bare ropes, utilitarian
light fixtures and exposed ceiling beams painted a dull black. It was a funky place and suggested that here
one was “off stage.” Here, one did not
have to appear in perfect “presentation quality” as if one were performing before
an audience. Of course, I’m sure some of the lounge guests could put on quite a
performance there. But the idea of a
place where one didn’t have to perform—to appear “presentation perfect”—had a fundamental
appeal to me. It is literally true that
I have known male individuals who never use a public urinal. To urinate is not presentation quality. One is on stage even in the bathroom. I have to wonder how healthy this unrelieved performance
pressure is on the psyche, even on the fundamental need to be real. So I tip my
hat to those places backstage where even political candidates can leave off
their public personas of seamless perfection and bear witness to fellow human
beings of their vulnerable, fallible nature.
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