I was feeling pretty low, actually miserable, come to think of it.

It was the night before I was scheduled to deliver a major speech in Las Vegas, and if you've ever presented there, you know there are a million distractions. Audiences aren't always in the best frame of mind when they're about to hear your ideas at eleven in the morning.

Anyway, I was particularly out of sorts about this presentation, because I was doing it as a favor, more or less, and I just wasn't looking forward to it. The night before, I decided to leave the hotel and walk the half-mile or so across the street to the next hotel to eat their special steak dinner.

The line was long, so a fellow in front of me asked if I wanted to share a table to get seated earlier, and I agreed, providing he didn't want to talk. I said it in jest, but given my mood, I was more or less on the level, and he laughed and agreed.

We introduced ourselves, and as it turned out, he was in town to film a major movie, and he had a big role in it, so the conversation wasn't dull. I mentioned that I had some acting background and told him about my speech the following day, and my foul mood.

He asked if I wanted his advice about it, and I said, sure.

Looking right into my eyes, he said very simply, "Act!”

I didn't get it.

"Act,” he repeated. "You're just going to have to go in there and act like you really want to do it. You know how to act, so act enthusiastic!”

Have you ever heard something that is so basic, so simple, that you doubt its validity, even though it makes perfect sense?

This was one of those moments.

He was right, of course. I had forgotten how to act.

I was so busy giving in to my own, genuine feelings, however counterproductive, that I had overlooked the simple fact that there is an alternative.

Instead of forsaking the spe

I don't mean faking the content. I was more than up to speed with that. I just needed to fake the attitude.

It's the same, sage advice given by Dale Carnegie: "Act enthusiastic, and you'll become enthusiastic!”

My college speech teacher, who was one of Carnegie's first contract instructors, said it this way: "If you're enthusiastic, an audience will forgive nearly anything. If not, they'll forgive nothing!''

So, I woke up the next day, adjusted my attitude, and delivered one heck of a speech, if I dare say so. And just tonight, before hearing a chamber orchestra, I listened to a professor discussing Mozart.

His enthusiasm was so overwhelming that I enjoyed his talk immensely, despite the fact that he was disorganized and ran out of time.

Maybe, he was faking it. I'll never know.

But does it matter?