In a back bedroom upstairs stands an antique armoire- br a four by eight foot clothespress of Spanish dark maple- br ornate cornice and frieze overhanging double doors, br brass hinges and doorknobs gone verdigris, br carved diamond shapes inset in each door panel- br a facade behind which odds and ends hang and lay br in skewed disarray like discarded costumes, br soiled and stained with sweat and greasepaint. br br Open the doors and look within, I say- br see the pair of brown corduroy knickers at the back, br seat worn through in spots, a rip over one knee, br a splintered hockey stick lying athwart the abraded fabric- br mute testament of a youth spent in mock battle. br br Note the pile of wrinkled and mildewed clothing- br Army garrison cap, uniform jacket, faded service ribbons br and tarnished brass buttons-a castoff costume br from a two-year run in an Asian theater production br that featured a cast of thousands.