Ah, Sotheby’s! Ah, Humanity!

Broadway 26 Touch by Gene Raft

The Last Custodian of Order

Ah, Sotheby’s! Ah, Humanity!

Broadway 26 Touch by Gene Raft

The Last Custodian of Order

There are institutions whose purpose is to preserve civilization. Sotheby’s has long regarded itself as one of them. This confidence remains entirely reasonable until civilization arrives one evening in the unexpected form of a chocolate-brown Art Deco bath towel distinguished by understated teal stripes and educational ambitions considerably exceeding those ordinarily expected of household textiles.

For generations it is assumed that civilizations receive their moral instruction through philosophers, prophets, stone tablets, or perhaps another Sermon on the Mount. Such expectations, while understandable, fail to account for the occasional originality displayed by the Universe.

The Universe sends not another stone tablet nor another Sermon on the Mount, but a teal-striped Art Deco bath towel whose hand-stitched message offers the highest refinement yet achieved in exposure therapy, a treatment especially overdue among the upper classes.

It is therapy.

Exposure therapy.

Civilizations, like individuals, occasionally develop irrational anxieties. Some fear poverty. Others fear obscurity. Certain remarkably successful societies develop persistent discomfort when confronted with unusually enthusiastic embroidery upon domestic textiles. The condition is understandable. It is also treatable.

Sotheby’s, entirely without intending to do so, becomes the patient.

The auction proceeds with impeccable confidence. White gloves appear. Catalogues open. Paddles rise. Provenance is discussed with scholarly precision. The atmosphere remains one of complete institutional composure.

Then the towel appears.

The orchestra discovers possibilities not previously anticipated.

Conservators continue handling the artifact according to accepted archival practice while displaying an unexpected enthusiasm for choreography. Distinguished patrons find themselves participating in rhythms for which neither etiquette manuals nor auction catalogues have made adequate provision. They become overjoyed and dance with abandon because they have taken over the proceedings and will remove the modesty stitching themselves to see what wonder of wonders is underneath the colored threads.

Behind the podium stands the last custodian of order.

He performs his duties with unwavering professionalism despite the constitutional situation unfolding in the East Gallery. His hands rise in polite appeal. His expression suggests not panic but administrative concern. Surely this is nonprocedural. Surely the one who procured Lot 148 will stop this riotous situation and protest the removal of modesty stitching from a historically significant towel in full public view.

Tea, meanwhile, continues without interruption.

This proves reassuring.

Indeed, throughout the evening, impeccable manners remain stable. The institution bends. Procedure becomes interpretive. Reality acquires a distinctly theatrical character. Yet someone invariably asks whether another scone might be appreciated, and blackberry-scented honey continues to circulate with admirable efficiency as the new owner of Lot 148 picks up a pincer and generously gestures for everyone to partake in the unveiling.

Quite.

Ultimately, the Universe, one suspects, understands that genuine refinement is not measured by the ability to avoid uncomfortable realities. It is measured by the grace with which one encounters them. The full unveiling of the towel does not diminish civilization. It merely asks civilization to become a little less frightened of itself.

Exposure Treatment has begun.

The prognosis appears excellent.

Enjoy Broadway 26 Touch on YouTube

https://youtu.be/1PhEjhgnVTY?si=e1utYoo0cJ8DrpGR