I’ve always heard the cliche, “never judge a book by it’s cover“, but never really gave it much thought. When I was younger, it was the reason I browsed bookshelves reading back covers for content rather than looking at the art on the front.
Contrary to the content of most “reality” shows (we all have figured out that many are scripted), I love them. In fact I think most of television shows I watch are “reality”. A few years back when I first started watching them, I had thought these camera men followed these pseudo celebs around 24-7, the reason they were able to catch them in these cat-fight moments, or in casual “real me” conversations. And although their cover has been blown, I still enjoy them immensely
One of my favorite types of reality shows are the talent ones. Last week I was watching one of those entertaining talent shows. Various people tried out for a chance to go to Vegas for the final try-out, the grand prize being monetary and a chance for their own Vegas show. One of the last contestants they showed for the night was a man, who was dressed a little hokey and sounded like he was going to make the extremely critical audience boo and hiss.
This man pulled out his guitar, opened his mouth and within seconds had my jaw drop into my hands, and the audience was silenced. He has a beautiful voice. One of the judges commented that with the song, he told a story. He did just that, the song and the way it was sung, was just like a bed time story. I was moved almost to tears when this man was told his dream of becoming a singer was within reach, the expression on his face was priceless.
I have thought about the many times I almost passed up an opportunity, a friendship, a moment in time because it just didn’t feel right, look right or have that quality I thought it should have. I am thankful for not having judged certain books by their covers.