A Face for Radio

We’re sorry. You’re not among those selected for our panel, our show, our organization, our business, our important thing, our big initiative that could only be put in the hands of the absolutely best people we could find. We’re sorry, but that’s not you. There were so many fabulous people, it was nearly impossible to choose but choose we did but we didn’t choose you.

When this happened to my kids, I would tell them to buck up, think about all the fabulous things they’ve already done and occasionally cast doubt on the legitimacy of the selection process. “Ah, they don’t know what they’re talking about.” Every once in a while, like when my amazingly talented soccer-playing son didn’t get picked for a hotshot traveling team, I went banshee mom. WHAT KIND OF FLAWED DECISION-MAKING IS GOING ON HERE?

So recently, I auditioned for an event that involved bloggers doing live readings of their writing. My last audition was to be one of the Singin’ in the Rain dancers in the spring musical in seventh grade. I sang and twirled my umbrella in front of thousands, that I was in the back row entirely a function of height in my opinion. Bolstered by that triumph, I figured, hey, why not audition again  fifty years later?

What do I have to lose?

I wrote a piece specifically for the audition, practiced, timed it, tried to get into the idea of the ‘spoken word’ which is pretty contrary to where I’m comfortable which is with the ‘written word.’ I basically want to write things and send them off in the mail, internet, stratosphere. I don’t want them bouncing back and the last thing I want to see is anyone’s physical reaction to what I’m saying/reading/writing.  Just read it, ok, and if it’s ok, hit “like” otherwise, let’s just stay anonymous here, alright?

When I got to the door of the audition, I took a deep breath and remembered what a former boss told me one day after I’d been on the radio talking about one of our programs, “Yep, Jan, you’ve got a face for radio.”

What am I doing here? I looked through the glass door at the two people waving me in. I told myself, Take your face for radio inside and read your stupid piece and stop being a big baby.

So I did. And hours later, I got the email. No deal. Thanks but no thanks, sugar.

Was I bummed? I was. I am still, a little. But, the prospect of the audition made me write what I think is a really good essay. It pushed me to think about how written words sound when they’re read aloud. It reminded me that just because I’ve got a blog and seven loyal readers I’m not the greatest thing since crunchy peanut butter.

And that’s all good, right?

I think so but who cares, I’m not auditioning for anything for another fifty years anyway.