Funny thing is, just this time yesterday, I received a congratulatory email that I have been casted in a pilot for a TV show based in Indianapolis. Unlike the Irish lottery emails that congratulate me, I actually had heard of this project before, because I did actually audition for it last week. This was my first audition for any acting gig since high school. I had planned on not getting the part. In fact, I have set up several such auditions just simply to practice and meet people in the industry. It is a funny and dangerous thing to expect things to not work out, I am learning. How to gracefully decline? I had to ask some friends for help on this one. Meanwhile I seem to be burning bridges before I knew I'd built them. Note to self; don't audition for stuff you can't/don't want to do.
The crux of the problem is this; The gig was acting, which is something I at least would like to try. But it was not the kind of project that I want to be involved in. I could guess from the name that the series was going to deal with material that is beyond my moral boundaries. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, or be judgemental, I decided to go through with the audition. The audition script, in fact, was not objectionable. The sight-reading script, however, was very objectionable and, though my character was not reading any of those lines, I still would not want to be part of the project. No worries, I thought. I'm an amateur and they won't want to cast me anyway. WRONG.
I am content to live without success in acting, comedy, or any pursuit for that matter. I am not content to live a life that is not sincere and true to myself. I do not want to be someone else just for a gig. I would rather be rejected because of who I am, than have success for being who I am not. Sounds simple, but in this industry it is easy to sell out. After all, acting is about pretending to be someone else. Once again, I find myself asking questions I cannot answer and pondering the complexities of a world I do not understand.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Online Date
I've recently begun a social experiment* in which I am the lab rat. I set out on this adventure to learn a thing or two about love, life, and women. Unfortunately, I think I may have lost more than I've found along the way. Take, for example, the awkward first meeting, after weeks of chatting, texting and phone calls. There she was, lost and alone crossing the street in front of the restaurant where I had arranged for us to meet. I shot a glance of recognition her way, hoping to have it returned, but instead, as she turned her head toward me, I could see that she was on the phone. Since my phone was in my pocket, distinctly NOT ringing, I knew right away she wasn't on the phone with me. We paused together as our trajectories converged and shared a moment of not talking to one another. Things were off to a bizarre start already. As I stood there, I expected to hear an excited dismissal of the phone conversation. Something like "Oh my gosh, here's here and he DOES look just like a younger Brad Pitt! Girl! He's even hotter than I expected!!! I gotta go, I'll call you when we're done!" with girlish squeals exchanged in the process. Nope.
Instead what I heard was something much more serious, "Well you know better than that and you've going to have to fix it when Mommy gets home. And you better be in a good mood too, or you'll have even more..."
"Hey!" I said, making sure she knew without me saying that I'm youngbradpitt1979 from the online dating site that had arranged to meet her here. She nodded at me and diverted her eyes, as if the silence was not enough disengagement. We stood awkwardly on the street in front of the restaurant. Although I don't think she was aware of the awkwardness because she was wrapped up in something stupid her little Johnny did moments earlier from an undisclosed location. I know those moments. Two people both need your attention at the same time. It is frustrating. The honk of a horn breaks the mood as I realized that we were still standing in the middle of the road.
"How about we go inside?" I offer in a stroke of pure genius. I reached past her to pull open the door only to find it was a push-open door. Now I am nothing more than an obstacle between her and the restaurant, with my pride, chivalry, and center-of-gravity far behind me.
"Ok honey, love you, bye." And just like that the date, for her, begins.
"Hi!"
"Hi, you must be Jen."
"Nope." My hunger pangs quickly turn into a knot of embarrassment in my stomach and I reach back to push open the door that has betrayed me once already. It is unmoved. So, too, is her face as she gazes into my eyes. She does kind of look like an older Tonya Harding, I think to myself. I looked at her one last time, my eyebrows clenched in painful confusion, when I remembered our running joke about fake names. Smiles washed over our faces and we looked into the crowded restaurant for a place to sit. It begins.
*To protect the image of the writer and other characters in this story, and for the sake of humorous/creative license, less than half of the details in this post are true.
Instead what I heard was something much more serious, "Well you know better than that and you've going to have to fix it when Mommy gets home. And you better be in a good mood too, or you'll have even more..."
"Hey!" I said, making sure she knew without me saying that I'm youngbradpitt1979 from the online dating site that had arranged to meet her here. She nodded at me and diverted her eyes, as if the silence was not enough disengagement. We stood awkwardly on the street in front of the restaurant. Although I don't think she was aware of the awkwardness because she was wrapped up in something stupid her little Johnny did moments earlier from an undisclosed location. I know those moments. Two people both need your attention at the same time. It is frustrating. The honk of a horn breaks the mood as I realized that we were still standing in the middle of the road.
"How about we go inside?" I offer in a stroke of pure genius. I reached past her to pull open the door only to find it was a push-open door. Now I am nothing more than an obstacle between her and the restaurant, with my pride, chivalry, and center-of-gravity far behind me.
"Ok honey, love you, bye." And just like that the date, for her, begins.
"Hi!"
"Hi, you must be Jen."
"Nope." My hunger pangs quickly turn into a knot of embarrassment in my stomach and I reach back to push open the door that has betrayed me once already. It is unmoved. So, too, is her face as she gazes into my eyes. She does kind of look like an older Tonya Harding, I think to myself. I looked at her one last time, my eyebrows clenched in painful confusion, when I remembered our running joke about fake names. Smiles washed over our faces and we looked into the crowded restaurant for a place to sit. It begins.
*To protect the image of the writer and other characters in this story, and for the sake of humorous/creative license, less than half of the details in this post are true.
Tacos and conversation
This wasn't my first plan. I gave her the address to a bowling alley across the street, where I figured we could talk, bowl and grab whatever food they served in the thingie. If parking hadn't been so hard to find, I would have never even seen the Mexican restaurant. But after parking there, and staring inside, I began to crave Mexican food. Even despite the crowd and the inevitable wait for a table, I started to change my mind about the entire evening plans. Mexican it is!
We stared each other across the table with an new element in our relationship -flesh. I can see her, she can see me. We can hear clearer, touch, laugh, nod -all in real time. It was great, just like real life! All my frustrations with the online crap were over and this was just like a real date. Then the questions creep up. Is this the kind of girl I would have picked out for myself in person? Does she live up to the exceptionally high standards of quality that I expect? I liked her pictures, and the texting went well. Now here we are at some Mexican place on a cold Friday night, and I haven't really satisfied the first criteria of my typical dating checklist. I gotta throw this thing out. Of course she's good enough. But like a good meal I need to whet my appetite. I need a few moments to think it through, to anticipate.
We both ordered pork tacos. They were terrible. The conversation was informative, but not amazing. She declined a ride to her car several blocks away. If it was my sister I would have told her not to get in the car with anyone she met online either. It caught me off guard but didn't ruin anything for me. We walked a little while in the general direction of her car and then stopped for a moment of good-byes. Nothing short of ordinary. "We should do this again."
"Definitely"
"Yeah, when are you free?"
"Yeah, I don't really know. But we should definitely hang out."
"Well, we'll talk."
"Yeah, oh, definitely."
I'm not sure what the rule is here, but I think either the second or third time "definitely" is used in the answer to the same question, it starts to mean the opposite. My heart was not broken. If it works, great. If not, that's fine. I still haven't told her my name.
We stared each other across the table with an new element in our relationship -flesh. I can see her, she can see me. We can hear clearer, touch, laugh, nod -all in real time. It was great, just like real life! All my frustrations with the online crap were over and this was just like a real date. Then the questions creep up. Is this the kind of girl I would have picked out for myself in person? Does she live up to the exceptionally high standards of quality that I expect? I liked her pictures, and the texting went well. Now here we are at some Mexican place on a cold Friday night, and I haven't really satisfied the first criteria of my typical dating checklist. I gotta throw this thing out. Of course she's good enough. But like a good meal I need to whet my appetite. I need a few moments to think it through, to anticipate.
We both ordered pork tacos. They were terrible. The conversation was informative, but not amazing. She declined a ride to her car several blocks away. If it was my sister I would have told her not to get in the car with anyone she met online either. It caught me off guard but didn't ruin anything for me. We walked a little while in the general direction of her car and then stopped for a moment of good-byes. Nothing short of ordinary. "We should do this again."
"Definitely"
"Yeah, when are you free?"
"Yeah, I don't really know. But we should definitely hang out."
"Well, we'll talk."
"Yeah, oh, definitely."
I'm not sure what the rule is here, but I think either the second or third time "definitely" is used in the answer to the same question, it starts to mean the opposite. My heart was not broken. If it works, great. If not, that's fine. I still haven't told her my name.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Fresh Challenge PART TWO
So along with the aforementioned week of writing and delivering an entirely new set, I've also had some great encounters to help me find my "voice." I've put some thought into this, but still it eludes me. I am searching for my center; the place from which I write my jokes and share my life. They say it takes about 10 years in this field to find your voice. I am anxious to get to that point, and haven't even put in 10 months yet!
This week I also began making plans to attend the Christian Comedy Association conference and have connected with many of its members through social media. One member posed the question which ignited a lengthy discussion that continues even now. On the forum he asked if it is acceptable for a Christian comedian to do shows in clubs, bars, or any other venue sharing a stage with comedians who use vulgar language and "blue material." Funny question, since my only stage time has consisted of exactly these kinds of venues and I haven't been nearly as disturbed by it as others have. Their objections included shaming or tarnishing the image of Christ, exposure to temptation, leading people astray, and, my personal favorite, contributing to the sale of alcohol.
Christ was an instigator and an agitator to the religious people, the people of power, and those in high regard. He was a friend to the whores, tax-collectors and sailors of His day. He appeared to have little concern for protecting His image or avoiding association with certain people or places. And at His first recorded party, he didn't sell alcohol, or even contribute to the sale of alcohol - He made it and gave it away. He called out hypocrisy often and confronted distorted logic (often religiosity) with truth. And He often accepted invitations from the dirtiest kind of people. And for the record, he extended invitations right back to them.
So, I wish I was perfect and could do it just like Him, but I cannot. I'm not entirely sure if that means I should give up or try harder. But, then again, the bar is set and the ultimate victory is already determined, so it seems that success or failure is irrelevant. I like this side of Him and it seems to be part of the voice I am after. If this week's conversations, self-condemnation, and comedic aspirations are any indication -the voice I aspire to have will be a risk, particularly as a "Christian Comedian." It could offend the best kind of people, and alienate me from the rest. But I am not drawn to a style of humor that degrades people, or deals lightly with contradiction. I want to confront our way of thinking with the Truth, without ever being safe or having all the answers (because I can't). I want to share my fallen journey to highlight my risen Saviour. And I want to be as honest, real and relate-able as the dirtiest, raunchiest comic on the stage. Will I ever figure out how to do it? God help me!
This week I also began making plans to attend the Christian Comedy Association conference and have connected with many of its members through social media. One member posed the question which ignited a lengthy discussion that continues even now. On the forum he asked if it is acceptable for a Christian comedian to do shows in clubs, bars, or any other venue sharing a stage with comedians who use vulgar language and "blue material." Funny question, since my only stage time has consisted of exactly these kinds of venues and I haven't been nearly as disturbed by it as others have. Their objections included shaming or tarnishing the image of Christ, exposure to temptation, leading people astray, and, my personal favorite, contributing to the sale of alcohol.
Christ was an instigator and an agitator to the religious people, the people of power, and those in high regard. He was a friend to the whores, tax-collectors and sailors of His day. He appeared to have little concern for protecting His image or avoiding association with certain people or places. And at His first recorded party, he didn't sell alcohol, or even contribute to the sale of alcohol - He made it and gave it away. He called out hypocrisy often and confronted distorted logic (often religiosity) with truth. And He often accepted invitations from the dirtiest kind of people. And for the record, he extended invitations right back to them.
So, I wish I was perfect and could do it just like Him, but I cannot. I'm not entirely sure if that means I should give up or try harder. But, then again, the bar is set and the ultimate victory is already determined, so it seems that success or failure is irrelevant. I like this side of Him and it seems to be part of the voice I am after. If this week's conversations, self-condemnation, and comedic aspirations are any indication -the voice I aspire to have will be a risk, particularly as a "Christian Comedian." It could offend the best kind of people, and alienate me from the rest. But I am not drawn to a style of humor that degrades people, or deals lightly with contradiction. I want to confront our way of thinking with the Truth, without ever being safe or having all the answers (because I can't). I want to share my fallen journey to highlight my risen Saviour. And I want to be as honest, real and relate-able as the dirtiest, raunchiest comic on the stage. Will I ever figure out how to do it? God help me!
Friday, February 21, 2014
Fresh Challenge PART ONE
It's been a week of fresh ideas, and stirring up some old. Last night, I challenged myself to bring 100% new material to the stage for Morty's "Great Indiana Mic Off." I enjoyed the challenge, but wish I had put more time into it. Firstly, having "scripted" my entire set on paper and them promptly NOT memorizing it, was a mistake. Of course, if I had taken the time to commit it to memory better, I probably would have tossed out most of the material. HERE is where the fresh ideas come in...
I wasn't displeased because it didn't get the laughs I wanted. I was displeased because I was not happy with the content. It crossed some subtle lines that I didn't want to cross, relying on negativity and material that I should have handled more cleverly. On the bright side, it was truthful; an element that makes comedy a holy temple for me. Comedy can't avoid truth. It can satire, exaggerate, juxtapose and illuminate it, but comedy cannot and does not hide from truth. Rather, it relies on it. The magic, for me, is to use truth to amuse and illuminate. There are many truths out there, and the fact is they don't always follow our sense of logic. When we have to confront the contradictions of truth with logic, truth always wins and we walk away changed and challenged. This is my passion for humor, because it has such a great potential to effect us.
If I had memorized my set and delivered it flawlessly, it still would have been sub-par and I still would be disappointed. If the crowd had laughed their brains out, it still would not have been the kind of set I want to be known for. So, what do I do? After the show I had a great conversation with the evening's headliner, an absolutely hilarious comic whose humor and lifestyle is notably different from my own, but whose mastery of the craft is one I admire. His influence was such that I could find myself laughing and relating to experiences I have not had, thoughts that were not mine, and situations and moral decisions I have not encountered. A good comic can do this, and you walk away from his show feeling like you've walked a mile or two in his shoes, and enjoyed it immensely. You take a look at life through his eyes (or hers) and challenge some of your own point of view. So there is where the lesson came from last night. Not just being disappointed with my own material, but to be able to appreciate another comic's talent without embracing his material. After all the truth we bring to the set comes from our own perspective. I am constantly being pulled back to my own center, which is as unique as it is difficult to find. My challenge is to go there and stay there.
I wasn't displeased because it didn't get the laughs I wanted. I was displeased because I was not happy with the content. It crossed some subtle lines that I didn't want to cross, relying on negativity and material that I should have handled more cleverly. On the bright side, it was truthful; an element that makes comedy a holy temple for me. Comedy can't avoid truth. It can satire, exaggerate, juxtapose and illuminate it, but comedy cannot and does not hide from truth. Rather, it relies on it. The magic, for me, is to use truth to amuse and illuminate. There are many truths out there, and the fact is they don't always follow our sense of logic. When we have to confront the contradictions of truth with logic, truth always wins and we walk away changed and challenged. This is my passion for humor, because it has such a great potential to effect us.
If I had memorized my set and delivered it flawlessly, it still would have been sub-par and I still would be disappointed. If the crowd had laughed their brains out, it still would not have been the kind of set I want to be known for. So, what do I do? After the show I had a great conversation with the evening's headliner, an absolutely hilarious comic whose humor and lifestyle is notably different from my own, but whose mastery of the craft is one I admire. His influence was such that I could find myself laughing and relating to experiences I have not had, thoughts that were not mine, and situations and moral decisions I have not encountered. A good comic can do this, and you walk away from his show feeling like you've walked a mile or two in his shoes, and enjoyed it immensely. You take a look at life through his eyes (or hers) and challenge some of your own point of view. So there is where the lesson came from last night. Not just being disappointed with my own material, but to be able to appreciate another comic's talent without embracing his material. After all the truth we bring to the set comes from our own perspective. I am constantly being pulled back to my own center, which is as unique as it is difficult to find. My challenge is to go there and stay there.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Testing
So, I am trying to get more connected with the world. Set-up a fancy Twitter account, Facebook Fan Page, and a really cheap Website, which all allegedly connect to each other (and my YouTube channel) and possibly make me look much busier than I really am. So, smooth sailing from here, right? We will see about that! In the meantime, if you get bored and want to follow me, by all means do so.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
It begins
So, here I sit, literally in the middle of a tornado. Well... the middle of a tornado watch. The sirens have just stopped and the wind isn’t
howling anymore, but the dogs are still going pretty strong. I think it is safe to say, if the dogs are nervous
about the weather, we should take heed. So any self-respecting citizen would be in
the basement taking cover. I, on the
other hand, am sitting next to the window with an electrical device on my lap,
typing away my first entry on my new blog, since no one else is on Facebook at
this ominous moment. Seems like a bad
idea, but I am willing to try anything for a moment of inspiration.
I am in a figurative tornado watch as well. I’m recovering from a traumatic divorce (I
use this word carelessly to borrow imagery from real pain, to illustrate my own
negligible emotional pain) in which, just hours ago more custody conflict flared
up. Family issues are a real problem,
but that’s every family, I think.
Besides, that’s not what this blog is about.
I’m flirting with bankruptcy. Apparently, a college degree and years of hard work don’t pay a single dad enough to put food on the table, cover the bills, taxes and child support. Between being a dad 4-5 days a week and working to pay my ex to take care of them (I know the math doesn’t add up) I barely have time for hobbies or a social life. But I am flirting with a gorgeous woman. So far only the bankruptcy is flirting back. This blog isn’t about that either.
I’m flirting with bankruptcy. Apparently, a college degree and years of hard work don’t pay a single dad enough to put food on the table, cover the bills, taxes and child support. Between being a dad 4-5 days a week and working to pay my ex to take care of them (I know the math doesn’t add up) I barely have time for hobbies or a social life. But I am flirting with a gorgeous woman. So far only the bankruptcy is flirting back. This blog isn’t about that either.
OK, I know what you’re thinking. Well, I’m guessing. Bluffing actually. If I
had any idea what people were thinking I probably would not have the
aforementioned financial problems (or relationship problems, for that
matter) But, I’ll bet you’re asking
yourself, “So, what exactly is this blog about?” Let me answer that question, with another question;
“What
do you get when you cross an elephant with a rhinoceros?”
So here I sit typing, with the proverbial Elephino in the
room, questioning almost everything. I
don’t know if there is a storm coming, or if it has passed. I don’t know if I will have the power to
finish the task before me. I don’t even know why I am doing the thing I am
doing. In fact all I know for sure could be
narrowed down to a few simple bullet points.
Even they are subject to change and don’t seem to make sense right now;
I am alive.
I have a God who stops at nothing to save me.
I have a God who stops at nothing to save me.
I have power now.
I’m still typing.
And you're still reading.
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