The Final Bow

Vito Paulekas, My Greatest Fan
by Leslie Michel
The life of my greatest fan was the ideal scenario available to exiting members of the human race. 78 strong years of unstoppable vitality and verve! The will to LIVE! The talent to create happiness and nurture harmony! A liberator of creative spirits to fly…
This life wants to go on dancing- what further proof is needed to verify the preciousness of the GIFT of LIFE
One catch- the gift must always be returned. Life’s organic chemistry equation is an Indian Giver. New life springs from recycled materials.
To have a fun life, and just quietly fade away (quickly, for grace and ease) is the epitome of fantasy scripts. My greatest fan’s exit contains little conflict- mostly monologues of self-reflection, fulfillment, and poignant first-hand observations of his physical demise.
Solo in the spotlight, he is complacent, lucid, and serene to the final bow.
What about that last movement! THAT gesture to really take the cake, and draw the curtains on the STAR, my greatest fan?
INTERMISSION? REMISSION?
Mission of Mercy?
Act III, the FINALE.
With Love, please exit the theater laughing,
and have a grooooovy Life.
GOOD NIGHT!

0 thoughts on “The Final Bow

  1. All the world’s a stage, and the fan is a player. One of my new favorites. Is it prose? Is it poetry? Or poesy? Who really cares? I get the impression that the fan and star of “The Final Bow” is someone close to the author, or a collage of real characters in her/his life who have taken a final bow, or gone out like brilliant bright stage lights. I won’t pick this apart line by line because it would take away the beauty of this metaphor to life and death. So I’ll just end with this: Thank you, Leslie Michel, whoever you are. Encore!

  2. Oh DiyDanna! Thanks so much. I posted a letter to my neighbor last month that caught your eye, too. The subject of “Final Bow” is a multi-muse mentor beyond description, Vito Paulekas, my greatest fan. He died in 1992. When I saw death in his face the first time I started grieving. This piece fell together during those 4 months- I read it at his memorial service on Halloween. Perfect timing I say!

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