Gathering a global ego

Gather ... gather ... gather ...

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may?

No.

Gather ye two Golden Globe Awards and Public Quivering Expressions of Celebrity Love.

Gather ye Public Adulation and Industry Adoration for ... doing your job.

A fine job.

An excellent job.

But a job – much like rose petals – that is sweet and ephemeral and surely is its own reward.

How many people beat the masses of hopeful wannabes, the scores of drama school prodigies, to make it to the top of the heap, not only working, year in year out at a job most don’t get a whiff of their entire lives, but working shiny like a star, with fans and contracts and money and roles gathering near and far.

A few special, gifted, precious petals.

And you are one.

Isn’t that enough?

Grateful to be employed. To be loved.

Gather your Wits and Spare us the Histrionics.

Smile. Say thank you.

And not to the Celebrity Men who love you.

To the ordinary men and women who pay you.

Attention, loyalty, admiration, respect ... and your paycheck.

By spending their ordinary money, earned at ordinary labours not necessarily of love, for which there are no awards, no adulation, no ceremony, no red carpet, no air brushing, no fanfare, no tears and no statues.

Thank them.

And please, quietly, with dignity, gather your sophisticated black about you and gather yourself off the stage.