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A Recipe for Fame:
A Recipe for Fame:
I've been wondering why so many people are simply famous for being famous. My high school only recognised the contributions of the best rugby and cricket players. No one else was deemed worthy of acclaim. Despite myself I felt annoyed that at sixteen, after taking the lead in school plays and operas, being in the gymnastics team and winning the singing cup, not even one ‘Well done†had been offered by the headmaster who didn't even know my name.
Mark, my father’s wartime buddy who ran the local First Aid Centre told me he was giving a series of first aid lectures to the teachers of my school because there had been so many accidents. He needed a model, preferably naked so as to easily demonstrate joints, bandaging, pressure points and so on. My father reckoned that as I was devoid of inhibitions I should do it.
An audible gasp hung in the air when I entered. Every staff member was there, arranged in a semi-circle a couple of metres from me on the tiny stage. My biology teacher later confided that I looked as if I'd been poured from bronze because at Mark’s insistence my body was as hairless as a statue and lightly glossed with oil. A ‘straw’ filter in a spotlight gave me the ‘bronze’ look.
Suddenly every teacher knew my name and greeted me in the corridors and on the street. I was promoted to ‘Prefect†and thanked at assembly for my contribution to the first aid efforts of the school.
So there you are. Drop your jeans and fame will arrive.
posted on June 3, 2008 5:09 AM ()
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