More from: "My Time in Service:"
It was 1975. I was all of 24 years old. I had the Day off, so I went down to Waikiki for a swim. I was walking down the beach when a woman about forty stopped me and said:
"I don't mean to be rude, but have you ever modeled?"
I didn't know what to say.
Model? Like folks in magazines? No way. I mean sure, my girlfriend in HS and my first couple years in the Army thought I was cute. And I dated a few girls who thought I was okay looking. But I never even got called "handsome" let alone: "Do you Model?"
I laughed. Back then there was no such thing as a Cougar, but that was the only thing I could think of. Maybe she wanted a young guy. Nope. She was serious. But not like you think...and not like I thought either.
"Ah...er...well...a no. I mean I sure don't look like a Model in a Magazine."
She laughed. And then with a straight face said:
"Oh, you mean a face Model? No, of course not. I meant your feet and calf."
No I had no clue. What is a Face Model? And who looks at feet?"
Well, I will tell you who looks at feet and calves...ART Teachers.
Apparently, the hardest parts of the anatomy for Artists' to get right are Hands. and feet. In fact, in those old Portraits you see in Castles, and Museums, of Royalty and Stuff, a lot of them have their hands hidden. Because they either couldn't afford somebody good enough to do hands, or didn't want to spend the money. Sculptors could do a good job with both, but that is because marble was a better medium. I never knew that...either.
So as she explained to me, I have the right proportions for both my calves and my feet. Because I did a lot of sports, that made the right muscles stand out. And because I wasn't to muscular in my calf, which would throw the proportion off, nor did I have flat feet, or to big of a foot. As she said:
"The balance is perfect. My students could draw you well, since you have wonderful proportions. The University pays $50 an hour. You would have to pose for an hour, take a break, and then pose for another hour. And I would need you twice in one week to cover all my Classes."
Well, I was in the Army. I couldn't just take a day off and "Model." So I told her that. She asked for my Company Commanders name and phone number for my Unit.
I thought nothing of it. I wrote my best friend Eddie and my Mom and Dad and said: "Hey, I almost got to be a Model." It made me laugh.
So a week goes by. I get a call to go see the Battalion Commander. Turns out the Art Teacher was part Hawaiian and well known. And at that time there was a lot of friction between Locals and the Military. So the Brass were looking for any projects that could help bridge the two communities. And so, I was sent on "Sensitive Duty Status" to that Woman's Art Class.
When I got there, they had me put on swim trunks and a sweat shirt. Because:
"The rest of your body isn't all that great, and we don't want to distract the students."
Did I tell you that Model's get criticized in minute detail? Merciless.
She wanted just my calves and feet exposed. So the shorts came down to my knees!
They made me stand on a table with steps up to it, in the middle of the room. The Students sat around me in a circle. Occasionally they would "spin" the table slowly, so they could see my calves and feet from a different angle. And they did that about every five minutes. And man, for those entire five minutes. I stood with all my weight on my Right Foot, and my left foot on a little block of wood maybe three inches high. No weight at all on that foot.
Because, once again, weight bearing calves have a different anatomical pose than ones with no weight or tension on the muscles.
It was exhausting. I could only move, or shift positions, even minutely , when they did that spin the table thing. For a full five to ten minutes...I couldn't move a muscle. I don't know if you have ever tried to just stand still...but it was not easy.
By the second hour, I had it down pat. I ended up doing six total sessions, over three weeks. And the Class moved on to drawing other stuff. I got a check. And a three day pass for creating positive interactions with the Locals.
And believe me, you do not want to take a group shower with a bunch of 20 something year old men, and get heckled about being a Model.
It took months for that to calm down.
I wish I had a dollar for every time someone would yell at me:
"Hey Hughes, show us your feet! I want to Model someday too!"
I am cleaning this up a bit, because well, Locker Room Humor was a bit more pointed and personal. But you get the gist.
Never modeled again.
I wonder what she would think of my toenails fungus now?