Saturday, January 24, 2009

Lost Legitimacy 1/24/09

You have to fight against being an antique.

Burt Lancaster
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Happy weekend my friend.

Sometime during the past few days I wrote to one of my journal buddies about a strange antique I discovered one day. When I was in school I worked part time as a night watchman. As a watchman I made rounds and carried a large clock with a shoulder strap. The clock was about 5 or 6 inches thick and inside was a circular piece of paper that was slowly revolving around a spindle, once every 24 hours. Here and there along my route I would come across a small black metal box attached to a wall. It had a lid and when I lifted the lid inside was a large key. The clock had a key hole in the side. I would insert the key into the key hole and turn it. It made a mark on the paper so that the head of security would know that I was in that exact place at that exact time.

About 25 years later I went into an antique shop to look around and there, sitting on a table, with a price tag on it, was one of those little metal boxes with the key inside. I thought, here, a tool I used to use to make a living, was now an antique. Does that mean I'M an antique? I didn't think so and I still don't, but it was a bit of a shock.

I did one show with an older actress who was good on the stage, warm and dependable, but off stage she was artificial and self important. This was in a summer theatre. She had been a resident member of a theatre company in a large city. She took a year off. During that year the producers and directors of the theatre changed. When she returned she went to the first meeting of the company to decide what roles she would play. They asked her to audition. She refused, citing that she was a resident member of the company, everyone knew her work and she had the authority to choose the roles she wanted. She was told: not any more. She went away in a rage.

What she should have done was to roll up her sleeves and give them an audition that knocked them off their chairs. Instead, she faded. She became an antique. Sad story.

DB Vagabond
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Today, add a new way of being joyful.
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To follow find WINTER QUIZ and Saturday Puzzle.

6 comments:

a corgi said...

interesting how you "marked" when you made your rounds DB; I hadn't heard of such a device; that must have sparked memories when you saw it in the antique shop

betty

Linda's World said...

I have a plaque hanging in my kitchen that says "The best antiques are old friends." Interesting entry, DB. Linda here in freezing cold & still foggy Washington

Alice said...

Good morning, DB. Very interesting how you related to that. Bet it's all computerized now. The antiques I own make me feel young in comparison so they get to stay :)...

Beth said...

Not an antique at all, D! At the lab where I worked, they still had those, and the security guards used them!

Hugs, Beth

Bucko (a.k.a., Ken) said...

Antiques, almost by definition, are things that are rarely used or useful in our daily lives. You certainly are no antique my friend :o)

Trees said...

Many years ago, I lived across the street from a factory and I recall the security guard, had one of those clocks as well. For curiosity sake I looked up the meaning of antique. I do know what it is but I prefer to use my own description. An antique to me is a work of art, it can be human or inanimate. You my friend are not necessarily an antique, but through your career you have become a work of art, and through your writing on your blogs you have aged gracefully and given many of your readers many hours of great reading, we aged differently and whether we are called antiques or works of art or something else if we give back to others as you do then in my eyes you are a great man.