Drafting A Speech, Part I

ouch or ouche (ouch) noun

A brooch or buckle set with precious stones.

Lights Up

A moment of stillness passes before a suited man enters from stage left and crosses to the podium at a patient gait. He clicks on a small reading light, produces folded sheets of paper from his inside suit coat pocket, and then places them on the podium. He speaks slowly, with an accomplished confidence:

We are all privileged. Not just in the sense of what each of us choose to do for a living or choose to do on the side, or how we each adjusted our busy schedules to attend this event, or even in the methods by which we came to arrive here--in this unsecret hall for this unsecret occasion--and what form of transportation, owned or borrowed, drove us here. We are all privileged in the sense that we have seats. In the sense that where we go brings us to cushioned seats and that there are enough of them and, in fact, too many.

I, as you have no doubt observed, am not seated with you. But then again, I'm getting paid to tell you that.

And yes, it's true that I'm here, and that I am me, and that I should speak to all of you about the state of mankind and where I've traveled and what I've seen and all about what I think of those things. You probably know about me from a few articles in liberal publications and left-leaning magazines. Or maybe you read my blog, peruse through my pictures, my first-hand stories, the anecdotes of my travels. My life it seems sometimes. If not, you certainly can--it's all available through any basic internet connection. You can visit me from home, you can visit me from work, you can visit me from school, you can even visit me from your mobile phone. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you should definitely consider visiting me and my website. I'm not hiding anything. And neither are you. Just ask the government.

But really, what good would recounting and reciting do in such a forum? What would that say about me if I stood up here and reminisced about familiar topics? If you've read me, then you've read me. If you've seen my pictures, you've seen my pictures. What you want is something new. If I'm a rock band, you want me to cover a forgotten song. You paid for a spectacle, not a review.

And this is what I have for you: We are all privileged. Privileged from every second we remain alive. I'm not talking about God, or Allah, or any religion. I'm just talking about me and all of you--any of you--listening to me speak here. All the ladies and all the gentlemen. We are all privileged. And in this sheltered, privileged life, we remain completely unaware or, at the very least, unwilling to look.

I've traveled the world. You know that. It doesn't make me any better or any worse or any thing than you. But more than likely, you have not traveled the world, and I suppose that's worth noting. Not a point of contention--that's not my role here--but instead something to consider. However you're feeling when you leave this hall, you might be sure to remember this one thing: I have traveled the world. You might think to mention it tomorrow to a friend or a coworker at the pub or the cafe or the water cooler when you attempt to describe this unsecret occasion you attended. When they ask you about me, about this curious person who spoke at a publicized event, you can tell them, "Well, he traveled the world," and that will be that.

To be continued...