Last night I happened to see a show on The Learning Channel called “Faking It” wherein a geeky, no-nonsense, Harvard-grad New Yorker decided to transform herself into an Atlanta Falcoln’s cheerleader and underwent rigorous training in the arts of putting on her face, smiling, and shaking her rump.
I wasn’t sure of her motivation, something about being teased by cheerleaders during her teen years in Texas, of all places, and how she wanted to show those mean old nasty girls that she could be just as vapid as they were. Right on!
She managed to fool the experts, even with her root beer belly and short hair. The show was a complete piece of fluff, although I’m sure there’s meaningful social commentary there. . .somewhere.
More importantly, it got me thinking about myself: what profession would I like to fake?
It would be no good to pretend I was some sort of cooking expert, which I’m not, because that is still too close to home—something to which I would actually aspire. If you’re going to fake it, you have to pick something completely outlandish—like, in my case: being a flamenco dancer.
Flamenco dancing is the one sort of dancing (aside from exotic) that you can do where a small bust is not mandatory. (Case in point: Laura del Sol’s performance in Carlos Saura’s flamenco film version of Carmen. ) I suppose I would need a black wig, and some special stomping shoes. It would take a while to get the hand movements right, although I’ve got the clap down--you have to curve your palms and turn them perpendicular to each other. I think I could reasonably fake the rest, especially after a few sangrias.
How about you? What sort of alternative life could you fake?
10:37:02 PM 
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