I stare at the uncut lawn behind my house. Trying to decide what would be the most aesthetically pleasing and artful way of cutting the lawn, I begin. I first cut the edges of the yard, framing the inner area for what was going to be my masterpiece. I start at the corner of the frame and create diagonal lines that stretch from one side of the frame to the other. This had been the way my dad mowed the lawn before he placed the burden on me. Where is my dad now? Probably inside with my mom and sister watching Netflix, my dog next to them on the couch fast asleep.
A few months ago, I would have been with my family, my dog sitting next to me on the couch fast asleep. We would have been watching American Idol, the show that brings my family together every Tuesday and Wednesday night. Watching the season reminds me of the audition process I had been through a few months previous, how I had almost made it to Hollywood Week. I was one yes away from seeing the celebrity judges. Last summer I had auditioned in Charlotte. I breezed past the first audition claiming my Golden Ticket. Two months later, I ventured to Pinehurst, North Carolina to vie for my place on the reality television show. I passed through my second audition receiving eight yeses from eight producers. I advanced. I waited in line to go to my third audition in front of the executive producers. I only received one yes, thus my career on American Idol was over for this year. I was disappointed in myself.
I sang “Feeling Good” by Michael Bublé, the song now playing on my iPone. I only have a little more of the lawn to mow. The lawn looks beautiful. I cut the last diagonal strip. My dad will be proud. I am proud.