Man goes to doctor. Says he’s depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says, “Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up.” Man bursts into tears. Says “But Doctor… I am Pagliacci.”
I understand this ‘joke’ far too well. I have always been the class clown. The jokester. A source of relief by humor for those around me. The comedy mask has gotten so much use, though, that it’s getting thin and fragile, as the title suggests. I’m tired, frustrated, angry, and all around feeling antisocial. I just need a vacation from life. I need someone else to wear the smiling mask that has been my façade for so long. Both Jen and I need a Pagliacci, who isn’t worn down and depressed, to put on the greasepaint, wig, red nose, and oversized shoes and lead the show. For us, intermission is long overdue.
Sorry. I haven’t got much for you this week. Just do me a favor. Look around your life. Find a Pagliacci close to you, and be for him, what he has been for you. He may be hard to see, given the nature of the personality. But look closely, and you will be able to see the lines of the tears cutting through the painted on smile.
I’m sorry I don’t have more for you this week, but following the theme of honesty I am striving to stick to with this blog, I just don’t have much to say. Sometimes, that’s just the way it goes.
I’ll see you next week with something to say. Until then, recognize your Pagliacci. Unless you are Pagliacci. In that case, I hope someone recognizes you and lifts you up. See you next Tuesday.