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Title: Life. Be There at Ten ‘Til
Author: R. Dean Johnson
Paperback: 159 pages
Publisher: iUniverse Star
ISBN: 1583482326
$9.95
Available from your favorite bookseller
About Life. Be There at Ten ‘Til
Listen to the author:
In his first book, “Life. Be There At Ten’Til.” (iUniverse), Johnson bridged the geography and culture of these two distinct worlds and offered a refreshing new commentary on life and its bounty of wisdom. With the re-release of “Life.” (iStar), his knack for finding the extraordinary with the ordinary remains ever present as he adds four new chapters to the already engaging collection of homegrown wisdom..
Excerpt
When visiting my parents one Christmas holiday, I heard my three-year-old niece plunking away at the piano in their living room. As she banged her hands randomly over the keys, she sang a childhood lullaby that pays homage to the celestial wonders we see at night. Her voice was strong and confident: “Twinkle, twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high…”
At the time, I was working as a personal assistant to a well-known actor in Los Angeles. I couldn’t help but recognize the truth of these fabled lyrics. Her words echoed the thoughts of the modern-day celebrity enthusiast who is similarly captivated by the luster and allure of these romanticized star figures. Her words also carried a strong reminder that people and things arenalways what they appear to be. People have always asked whether I would ever consider writing a tell-all book of my adventures in the entertainment field. They figure I must have interesting stories to share with the inquisitive public. After all, I have had the opportunity to work with a handful of noted film and television performers. Surely, there was intrigue, gossip, innuendo, indiscretions, and never-before-known secrets that only I could expose.
My first response has always been, “Who cares?” And my second response has always been, “Who cares?” I certainly don’t. (And for the record, I do, in fact, possess bits of information only I will ever know and will carry with me ’til my final days on earth.) Having been close to the luster of these stellar beings, my advice to anyone is to keep a safe distance and continue to admire from afar. The closer you get, the more you lose sight of the wonder. The brilliance appears to have been an illusion. If you’ve ever studied the solar system or if you can even recall what you were taught in fourth grade science class, you know that a star is really a burning mass of illuminated gases. You can’t catch a falling star, and you can’t put it in your pocket. It’s not possible.
Similarly, you can’t define or engage Hollywood stars with any confidence and put them in perspective. It’s not possible. But whether you’re gazing from your own backyard or from the red carpet of a premiere, both of these heavenly and earthly diamonds are mysterious, intriguing, and captivating. We wonder how they got there. We wonder how long they’ll last. We wonder whether they’re closer to earth or closer to heaven. They make us wonder. People, whether celebrities or not, aren’t what they appear to be. Want to know people better? Travel with them. Dine with them. Work with them. The closer we inhabit someone’s intimate space and personal environment, the more we learn and begin to know. And sometimes, we regrettably wish we had known less. I’m not placing responsibility on the admired. I’m placing responsibility on the admirers. We (I said we) set expectations. We hold people in regard without really knowing them.
We assume that the persona reflected by celebrities during a talk show interview or during a performance is the actual person we should have over for pot roast. And what about the everyday folks who populate our lives? Our friends, romantic partners, family, coworkers, and bosses? Same story, different galaxy. We automatically assume the new bosses that welcomed us so warmly the first day on the job should definitely be on this year’s Christmas list. But what if these people are wanted by the FBI? What if they go home and abuse their spouses or children? Just what if they’re not very nice? We then become disappointed and wonder what is wrong with the world and why everyone has gone crazy. When I was in the ninth grade, the most beautiful girl in school was a senior named Leigh Lewis.
She was a star athlete. She was a star student. She was a star—period. When the school year drew to a close, the most exciting event, besides graduation, was receiving annuals (i.e., yearbooks). An annual signing party had been scheduled in the high school gymnasium. On the night of the party, the first thing I did after thankfully receiving my yearbook was to immediately find Leigh Lewis’ senior class photo. I had never seen anything like it. She was stunning. She was royalty. And even better, her majesty was also in attendance that very night at the annual signing party. I wanted desperately to approach her and tell her I was her biggest fan.
I just didn’t know how to do it. The little voice inside said, “Keep your distance, and don’t go near the light. Appreciate her from afar as you would any work of art.” Instead, a bigger voice told my little voice to shut up and pipe down. Being a brave coward, I waited and made a weak attempt to compliment her as she was walking out the door. What else was I supposed to do? Because she was graduating, I thought I would never have another chance to let her know just how special I thought she was. I might never see her again! I somehow managed a verbal discharge of sounds and syllables—or so I thought. My weak attempt was either unheard or ignored because she didn’t acknowledge me when I spoke. She couldn’t be dismissive and cruel. She was too beautiful to behave in such a manner. Did I not speak loudly enough?
Did she not hear me? Either way, I was crushed. I stood in silence as she walked away toward her future, and I was left standing with mine. Had I left her alone, my memory would still be of a stunning beauty unlike anyone I had ever known. Now, the memory was tarnished, and I wish I had listened to my inner voice. I would have been better off wondering, but I was responsible for my fantasy’s undoing. Not her. It was I who had set expectations. As a result, the difference between what I envisioned and what I experienced was light years apart. I picked up my 1978 high school annual today and turned to the page with Leigh Lewis’s senior photo. I no longer saw a star.
The image of a beautiful blonde with a gorgeous summer tan had been replaced. Instead, I saw a fat little boy standing alone by the steps of the high school gymnasium. No one asks to us to admire stars in the sky or people on the earth. No one asks us to adore, champion, exalt, or memorialize these stellar beings. We just do. We are struck and attracted by the beauty of things and people, and we want to be closer to touch, smell, and see. Just like the stars we see at night, the radiance of people and things are something to behold. And just like the childhood song we’ve heard so often, we wonder what they are. Science implores us to delve into the unknown—to research, to experiment, and to explore. The hope is that we will discover something wondrous and that revelations will unfold. But sometimes, it’s best to just keep wondering about our little stars.
About the Author
A native South Carolinian, R. Dean Johnson grew up in a rural community under the stars of Southern skies and the influence of lazy accents, good cookin’, kind folks and country livin’. But, it was many miles and cultures away under the influence of different kinds of stars where he grew up as an author.
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