Edoardo Ballerini

Every stranger gives me two gifts.  In no particular order they are: the chance to study a character, and a chance to practice compassion.  Most people are odd, and therefore great characters, and most people are unhappy, and in dire need of someone to show them some caring.  On occasion, you hit the motherload and get a really, really unhappy wack job.

Waiting for a doctor’s appointment yesterday I heard the receptionist call for “Mr. Johnson.”  A man rose and announced across the room that he preferred to be addressed as “Dr. Johnson,” because he was a doctor, and being a doctor he was a doctor who was a doctor and therefore should be called a doctor.  If his point hadn’t been made clearly enough, he added that “he studied for a long time to be a doctor and earned it.”  So we should all know he was a doctor who wanted to be called “doctor.”

Doctor.

My impulse was to strangle the guy.  My second impulse was to announce across the room that I was “really cool” and wanted to be called “O, Coolest One,” and that I had spent years learning to be cool and I had earned it.  My third impulse was to feel extremely sorry for Herr Doctor, and when my practice, and study, becomes more sophisticated, one day that will be my first impulse.

It dawned on me that the good doctor’s proclamation was not borne of pride, but of a terrible need for a missing significance.  If he had been satisfied with himself, I doubt he would have put on such a show.  No different than the jackass in the bright red convertible blasting music.  He’s actually not a jackass.  He’s one of the loneliest people you’ll ever see, and needs compassion.

So, to Dr. Johnson, I say thank you.  Not only did you deepen my practice, but you just did half my homework for my next audition.

May you find peace.

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.