Jan Toorop: The Arrival of the Muses of Art at Architecture (1890)

" … tomorrow will bring yet another opportunity for selfless service."

The ArmCandy role requires more than merely SuitingUp. The successful incumbent must also ShowUp at a surprising variety of functions, many innocuous and many others substantive. Evenings, once reserved for rest and recuperation, become crowded with invitations. Organizations of every stripe send invitations where the Commissioner simply must appear. Her appearances with ArmCandy in tow might improve her visibility and effectiveness. I'm expected to show up invisible, sans obvious agenda, and do little more than whisper encouragement and questions. I do not have to pay attention to the proceedings. Indeed, it might be better for all involved if I reserve comment, for I'm no fool. I carry decades of group process experience and can determine when another cluster fuck's emerging. It's not the ArmCandy's job to intervene, though. I can mutely watch or quietly excuse myself when the proceedings turn too dicey.

Of course, I'm not merely The Muse's ArmCandy. I am also her spouse and adviser. I provide perspective if only because the spotlights ignore me. I can almost serve as an objective observer or at least one with no skin in whatever game's played. A game's always being played. The participants, if only because they're immersed in performing their roles, can no more see the game they're playing than a fish can perceive the water within which they swim. The ArmCandy serves as witness in ways that nobody else present ever could be present, yet the ArmCandy has no say. Oh, he can whisper observations to his Commissioner, who likely as not will deflect them, for she's also embedded in her role then. We will deprogram later once the function ends.

My presence must, though, remain somewhat of a mystery, even to me. It might be that I will see, while dutifully fulfilling the ArmCandy role, something that will help resolve some puzzle I've been carrying. I am never just the mute companion I might project myself as being. It might be that the ArmCandy's the only authentic witness to any proceeding. Unnoticed when I'm looking, nobody's pretending to be anything other than whoever they are. It's endlessly fascinating to see just how many faces the typical attendee might project during an otherwise perfectly pedestrian meeting. Everyone attending tends to have at least one agenda, everyone, that is, except that character accompanying The Muse.

There's a definite art to invisibility. The skill does not come naturally. It requires, perhaps above all, a deep sense of self-sufficiency. The needy need not apply. Some ArmCandy demand attention as the price of accompanying their partner to a function. The thoughtful partner will extend certain courtesies to attend to these needs, but limits exist to inhibit an ArmCandy's neediness. They might find a beverage but never two. They might direct one to the loo, but not hover waiting for their return. They will mostly seem so absorbed in the proceedings as to render their decked-out ArmCandy irrelevant. This is how it should be in that moment, so the skillful ArmCandy stifles whatever reaction they might experience to feeling ignored. They cannot ever become the center of anyone's attention then.

The evenings stretch to the edge of new infinities. Meetings extend almost beyond human endurance. The Commissioner feels compelled to stay until the room's practically empty, always finding just one more thing to say, one more compliment to make to a potentially significant ally. The ArmCandy seems fascinated with the architecture even when the meetings are conducted in nondescript rooms, and obviously pleased to be there. The ArmCandy's infinitely patient, though he might discretely excuse himself when feeling near his edge. He'll wait as impatiently as he pleases until The Commissioner exits, then drive her home. Then, he shares his observations and provides space for her to describe her reactions and disclose her planned follow-up actions. The ArmCandy's up past his bedtime again. Excusing himself, he crashes, knowing tomorrow will bring yet another opportunity for selfless service, SuitingUp, then ShowingUp again.

©2023 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

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