“Cos you can see right through me, walk right by me, and never know I’m there!”
Of all the characters in Chicago, I’d always identified the most with Amos Hart. He was such a sap - always dependable, always there when you need him the most. But nobody ever REALLY loved him, or at least cared much for him.
It doesn’t feel good when you’re Mr Cellophane. It sucks when everybody else’s needs comes before yours. Or when everybody else’s likes and dislikes overrides yours. When their time is more precious than yours. When their feelings matter more. When their words have greater value.
What is worse is when you realise the costs of standing up for yourself. So you bottle all your frustrations inside, never letting them out. And you end up selling your soul as the price of admission.
I’d often wondered, what WOULD happen if all the Mr Cellophanes disappeared off the face of the earth? I reckon the world would be thrown into chaos. Toilets would never get cleaned, the rubbish will never empty itself, we’d probably go hungry if there weren’t any farmers, cooks even. Would it be as catastrophic if I were gone?
I guess perhaps that Amos is kind of like oxygen. It’s in the air all around you, doing all these wonderful things. Quietly, unknowingly, it keeps us alive. Yet no one gives much attention to it at all. Except yogis and hippies of course.
Maybe it’s hubris to think of myself as indispensable as oxygen. But at least, for 10 minutes today, I will give myself that sense of entitlement. Here’s a toast to all youse unsung heroes everywhere!
