It’s hard to feel powerful when you are in a herd of hopefuls at an open call for one of the Seven Dwarves in a summer stock production of Snow White. For almost no money.
True, true. A few get to the top of the heap and acquire an entourage of lawyers, agents, caterers, masseuses and other factota. But for every Nathan Lane, there’s Miss Nulla Void who is working for tips in a bar in Bakersfield while auditioning for bit parts in any theatrical production with a tune.
A yellow brick road to fame, fortune and clout does exist, but it’s long and winding and treacherous, with dead-ends, detours and potholes.
And lots of mixed metaphors.
Power is a word that belongs to other people. If you wanted power, you would have gone to school to be a prison guard, or a tax collector, or King of the World.