Being surrounded by youth during performances backstage has its ups and downs as you can imagine. I am constantly having to avert my gaze as I find myself staring open mouthed at glamourous young women. It is like being a small child in a sweetshop. Theis production has made a happy man very old.
I will now quote at some length from George Saunders who writes a column entitled "American Psyche" for the Guardian on Saturdays. I hope I am not breaking any copyright in so doing as I hope I have stressed these are his words but I am so grateful to Mr Saunders for his pithy and timely comments.
In his article Mr Saunders refers to middle aged men but I suppose at almost sixty (a month off) I might even come under the heading of "elderly".
Just because we are unpleasant to behold, does this mean people should not be forced to look upon us (balding middle aged men of all natuions)? I declare a kind of Internationale of the type of men people tend to glance at, then look away from; men not revolting, just bland. We are your uncles, your fathers, we are what young men are afraid of becoming. Our looks speak of solidity, decent investments, early bedtimes, sensible shoes. When we speak to the young girl at the checkout, she glances around alarmed, wondering where that voice is coming from. When her eyes fall upon us, she is neither excited or repelled. It's as if she is looking upon the very air. We say something witty, she rolls her eyes. mutters something to the virile stockboy, who sniggers and then runs his hand through his (thick) days.
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