It's All About Perspective, Innit...
I had a much-needed dose of caffiene with Amanda yesterday, before rehearsal. She arrived fresh from la salon and we managed to sit and chat for a bit before needing to go our separate ways. She's getting married soon; and working through the various trials and tribulations on her way to the altar. Other mishaps, clerical errors and so forth were quills of the porcupine she sat on; but one in particular simply cracked me up. Namely, her wedding band is not quite designed to rest flush against her engagement ring. The problem? It has too many diamonds. She didn't get to finish her comment before I started laughing. "Oooh, my solid gold shoes are pinching my feet... Can you grab me a band-aid? This winning lottery ticket just gave me a paper-cut. Oh, dammit! The Rolls broke down. I'd ride my Unicorn home, but he threw a shoe." She assured me that my uppance will come, the minute I complain about something that's small potatoes. If laughing about it yesterday didn't get me in enough trouble, sharing the moment with you folks will certainly finish the job. Bring it on.
Seemingly Random Events
I'm most intrigued: Friends of mine and I have encountered a most bizarre string of coincidences, lately. In the last week, there've been no less than four completely random encounters. A friend in New York (whom I knew in High School) recently got back in touch with Heather. Turns out she's dating someone Heather knew at college. They've been dating for three years and never realized they knew someone in common. Heather and I were at the mall on Saturday, and ran into two guys from High School neither of us had seen in years. Amanda's been treating the wife of a good friend (and former co-star) lately, and it wasn't until their last day of therapy that they discovered they both know me. Leaving the Metro on Friday, I ran into someone I haven't seen in ages. Three years prior when we saw each other last, we were both living in a different freakin' state. Turns out we'd both moved closer to DC. Never expected to see him again. (There hadn't been any sort of bad falling out, we'd just lost touch.) Just a bizarre string of coincidences? Or... well, what the hell else could it be? *Looks around, doesn't see Rod Serling anywhere.* I dunno. You be the judge.
Wish Me Luck
Folks, I'm headed up to New York in the morning. I have a cartoon audition in the afternoon. There's something else going on tomorrow; I'm catching up with a friend I haven't seen in years. Years. Can't wait. I'm packed. I'm prepped. I'm not tired yet, but hopefully that'll change. Fingers crossed.
Snakes! In A Theater
*I am not making this up*Phoenix, Arizona: Snakes On A Plane had more than Man in the audience Friday night-- Two diamondback rattlesnakes were released into the theater during the movie. As far as practical jokes go, this one verges off the path of 'kinda funny' toward 'kinda evil'. Dude. Snakes make terrible movie-goers. They can't shut up (especially rattlers, noisy at both ends), they don't buy any concessions and in a dark room filled with loud noises; you are begging them to attack. No-one was hurt, the snakes were returned to the Arizona desert. Authorities suspect the cunning use of backpacks in smuggling the snakes into the cinema. No ssssuspectsss were arresssssted. Shuckssss.
Monday Already?
The weekend was a blur. Graphic Audio sprung for an early morning screening of Snakes on a Plane, which was everything you'd expect it to be. Every single hideous thing a snake can do to a person was done (frequently twice). So bad it was hilarious. Pedro paid a visit on Saturday and Sunday; John, his friends and family held a toast in his sister's honor Saturday night. It was a good weekend. Tuesday night's the first read-through for Urinetown, Wednesday I'm in the studio; and Saturday is my brother's infamous Millionaire Playboy BBQ. Anyone in the vicinity of Gaithersburg on Saturday afternoon should feel free to swing by. Who knows what else the week will bring...
A Little Announcement
Folks, now is as good a time as any to let the cat out of the bag: I'm moving to New York. The timing of the actual move was in flux until auditions for Urinetown; I want to go out with a bang. Having been cast, I'll be staying a little longer in MD (and get a chance to put some extra money together). The move is still three months away, but it feels like it's just around the corner. That feels... a bit strange. I have some friends up north whom I haven't seen (for longer than an hour or two) in ages; without whom I'm not sure I'd have the nerve to actually go. Moving to a city that big without knowing anyone local? Now that's scary.Rehearsals are about to begin, and along with everything else going into preparing to pursue my career(s); I intend to take a much-needed vacation. To where, I don't know yet. How long, probably less than a week. But actual time off will be... something to look forward to. It's time to get this show on the road.Labels: New York
"You Have A Date With The Wicker Man"
Folks, if you have any interest in seeing the soon-to-be-released remake of The Wicker Man, I'd like to propose that you see the original first. The reason I'm suggesting this? Well, the remake may inspire you to catch the original afterwards anyway; at which point the ending will be ruined for ya. I'm not saying that the remake is going to be bad. Far from it. I plan to see it and enjoy it as much as possible. But the original has enough strikes against it without virgin audiences (har dee har har) knowing beforehand how it's going to end-- namely that it's obscure as hell, and the quality of the footage has suffered from very poor storage over the years. Any movie with a twist in the ending is going to have its impact softened when it's the case; and if any flick deserves maximum effect, it's this one. Heck, I'd be willing to co-host a screening some time if someone with a decent-sized screen is up for a night of Scots-Pagan creepy fun. *cough* Michael! *cough* Jeff! *Cough* It stars Christopher Lee for cryin' out loud. Christopher Lee. I'm not gonna twist your arm. Just puttin' it out there for you to ruminate on. *whistles innocently*
Overly Malicious / A Bunch of Brutes
Folks, I'm in a good mood. I've been getting some good work done on the latest transcription, putting some detail work into the up-and-coming audio series (More on that when I can!) and to top it off; I've been cast in Kensington Arts Theatre's Urinetown. Officer Barrel, reporting for duty. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm going to be cronies with Michael; who played Czolgosz (angry man) in Assassins. Ever since the show wrapped we've been meeting for cigars and quality conversation when we've had a free evenin'. Outstanding. ***
In other news, if anyone's free tonight, please feel free to join me at Glen Echo Park, specifically room 201 in the Arcade Building, at 7 PM. We're doing a staged reading of Corpus Incorruptible. Should be a fun night. (Punch & Pie.) Back to the grindstone. Ciao for now.
Callbacks
Got called back for two roles in Urinetown. I'm headed for the theatre to get there before 7. (I like getting there early.) Wish me luck, folks.
Ah, Good Old College Days
Had an audition this evening, and I was reminded of something from my first auditions back in college.
The seniors didn't have to hang around for the dance portion of the try-outs for musicals. The director knew them well enough to know how good they were. It was something he could depend on. That was just neat.
By sophomore year, I didn't have to hang around for the dance portion, either. The director knew how bad I was, and that I was only going to be considered for the 'character-that-doesn't-have-to-dance' roles.
*Shrugs* What can ya do.
Hedonist Commits Self, "Just What I Always Wanted"
From the latest edition of the Entirely Fake News:A local man committed himself to psychiatric care yesterday, citing he was not to be left to his own recognizance until his hedonist urges could be brought under control. "It's ridiculous," the straight-jacketed skirt-chaser confided, "I got chronic great taste in unavailable women." Dr. Emil Snapoutofit is confident that treatment will benefit the anonymous homewrecker. "Ven ve get to ze base of ze patient's inappropriate desires, ve vill be able to grasp zem like so, unt yank zem out by ze roots!! It vill be remarkably painful, but ze medicine tastes bad for a reason, ja?" Before these drastic measures, the local flirt had gone to less invasive (and effective) lengths. "I got a bad haircut, I tried deliberately sayin' the wrong thing; hell-- I lowered the bar of my standards 'til I was makin' eyes at a frisky-looking three-toed sloth at the habitat. Her mate? Not pleased. Lucky for me the slow bastard hasn't made it down the tree yet, or I might have gotten some real nasty scratches."Anyway, nothin' doin'. No matter what I try, I can't seem to attract the ladies I actually have a shot with."Mr. [name undisclosed] is looking forward to shock therapy treatments, injections, and a running audio-loop of the Rolling Stones' classic You Can't Always Get What You Want. "I hope this crap works," he said, as the primary meds began kicking in. "It's either this, or goin' Eunuch. I'm not that nuts about recovery, if you get my drift."
Revisiting the Subject of Remakes
In roughly a month's time, the remake of The Wicker Man will hit theaters. Whether it will burn out quickly or go on like a house on fire; remains to be seen. I've seen remakes before; and more often than not they inspired me to go check out the original. (Just the fact that they remade Stepford Wives made me check it out. I loved the original and never bothered with the updated version.) This one will mark the first time that a remake arrives for a flick I already know and love. I'm crazy about The Wicker Man. It's creepy. It's unique. It keeps you engaged, and its finale' chills ya right to the bone. It stars Christopher Lee at the top of his game, for crying out loud. It was also written by Anthony Shaffer, who wrote my favorite script of all time, Sleuth. Love it. So now, a remake starring Nicolas Cage is coming out... and there can't help but be discrepancies in tone, mood, and plot. It is a remake, after all. Words like 'tribute' and 'homage' have been thrown around... I dunno. I do know I'll go see it, regardless. Why not update some other creepy classics, now that we have the FX to back it up? Watcher In The Woods was spooky when I was a kid; updated it could probably give kids some genuine nightmares. I get goosebumps just thinkin' about it. Yeesh. Okay, so there's no real point to the diatribe. *Shrugs* Sorry. Just... Looking forward to a flick. Hopefully it'll leave me with more than a bad case of deja vu. Burn, baby, burn.
The Joy of Combat
One of the things I enjoy about showbiz is getting to know other actors. Anywhere but at auditions. I have friends who are actors, and thankfully not too many of them fall into my demographic; aka folks I'll be up against for parts. There's just a great feeling, going into an audition; and scoping out the place to size up the competition. That sort of thing. I can't speak for others, but for me there's that almost-silent guy in my head saying "You're gonna have to kick [his] ass." We even joke about it. A friend of mine and I admitted we're both going up for the same parts in a try-out later this week, and he jokingly offered, "Pistols at dawn?" It made me smile; but it didn't change the fact that once you get into that room, all bets are off. I do love it. You get in there and you either get to go first, or you don't. If you're first, it's that opportunity to have anyone following you use parts of your take. If you're not, it's just as good because you can go in thinking "What can I do differently?" I'm looking forward to it. May the best man win. It may not be any of us, but may the best man win.
Outssstanding
Wonderful news: The audio version of Snakes On A Plane is now for sale on www.graphicaudio.net and amazon.com! I play Sean Jones, a witness going into protection. Oh yeah-- those snakes on the plane are after me. Woot!
Check it out! Buy yourself a little slice of serpentine action-adventure gold. BAM.
UR FIRD LOL SCKS 2 B U
Nothing says '21st Century' like e-pink slips. A jewelry shop in Cardiff, England sacked an employee at home with a migraine. With a text message. Katy Tanner thinks they should have told her to her face; the company defends that it tried repeatedly to contact her, including through her boyfriend. Wow. Way to put him in hot water... The message itself was not abbreviated: "We will not require your services anymore...Thank you for your time with us."Ian Besbie, the store director, supplanted that texting was part of "youth culture". Wow. Again. I know one or two people *cough* McCall! *cough* that live to text-message, but this is ridiculous. Wow.
Have You Met Dark Marker?
Folks, I'm tickled to report that the people behind Pendemonium have developed a delightful educational tool for online use; namely a grammar game. Starring us.
Six games (based on the first six episodes of the show) are on www.cosmeo.com. To find them, simply go to the site and do a search for Dark Marker.
But wait! What if you want to actually play the game, you ask? I thought of this too. I created a log-in for anyone to use if they like to give the games a try. Log in as Darkmarker (one word), with the password being: evil. (Bwu ha ha ha ha ma ha)
The log-in is only gonna be valid for a few weeks, so now's the time if'n you wanna try it out.
As Rick pointed out, he 'kicked my ass' all over the place; and I'll tell you the same thing I told him: Try losing on purpose. The ending's different if ya do. *grins*
Good luck, kiddies. Labels: Dark Marker
On Writer's Block
Yesterday, I got absolutely jack squat done, writing-wise. That's okay. It was Sunday, known as 'a day of rest'.
Still-- I would have liked to have made some progress if I could help it. I'm working on a few things at the moment; namely transcription and script-writing (for projects I can't wait to divulge more on). For the life of me, I just couldn't make a dent in any of it.
That was yesterday. This morning, I seemed to be back under my own steam again.
I just don't know what it is. Was it a funk? Was it a slump? Was it just a mundane 24-hour block on the brain? Who knows. The day we figure out how the hell Writer's Block works is a day a lot of people toss out their squeezy stress balls. (I don't have one, I'm just sayin'.)
In any case, I'm grateful I only get the occasional case of the stuff. If it happened more often... Well. Let's not dwell on the possibilities.
Ciao for now, folks. Back to it. Labels: Writer's Block
Happy Anniversary!
I'm pleased to announce that Michael and Tanya just wrapped up celebrating the 20th anniversary of their wedding. Nothin' like celebrating in sunny Florida... Cheers, folks.
Swish and Flick!
On my walk last night, the following exchange popped into my head. Gotta love those parallels between the generations. Charms Class 101In the Slytherin common room; Tom Riddle, first-year and precocious child, waved his wand at the small beetle in a jar. "Ava duh ka daverah." His wand did nothing. The beetle continued crawling around. "Ava duh ka daverah. ...Blast." A girl with mousey brown hair and her nose in the air sat down beside him. "You've got it all wrong. First off, you're pronouncing it abysmally. Secondly, you're supposed to use a swish-and-flick gesture with your wand." Annoyed, but interested in correcting his mistake, Riddle put down his wand and faced her. "How do you pronounce it?" The girl cocked her head with arrogance. "Quickly, with as much venom as possible: 'Avada kedavra.' Accompany it with a swish-and-flick, aiming the wand at the creature you wish to kill." Riddle considered this, picked up his wand, and copied the girl's hand movements. "Avada kedavra." A jet of green light shot out of the tip of his wand, hitting the girl square in the chest. She tipped over and fell to the ground, dead."Oh, that's much improved. Thanks!"
Comic "Actor" Vows Never to Work With Gibson
In a move that can be called nothing short of brazen, SNL Alumnus Rob Schneider has vowed never to work with Mel Gibson. This comes only after Gibson's drunken tirade in which he was charged with drinking under the influence and made several deflamatory remarks about Jews. Schneider failed to point out that he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of working with Gibson before the incident as well. In a related story, South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone were treated for bumps and bruises; after falling down in puddles of their own saliva, drooling over the possibilities for lampooning Gibson's inebriated racist tirade.
Novelists Plead To Rowling, Potter Auther Replies "Mind Your Own Sodding Business"
This week coming from the Semi-True Post: Novelists John Irving (The World According to Garp) and Stephen "Healthy Childhood" King held a news conference where they announced they had written to J. K. Rowling, imploring her not to kill Harry Potter in the final book of the series.
Rowling had this to say:
"Can you believe the cheek on those Yanks? Look, King. It's my premise, it's my billions, I'll do whatever the sodding hell I want to. The Potter brat will go prancing into his grave in a tutu if the mood strikes me. Don't push it, King. I can buy you a dozen times over." At which point, the novelist gave this reporter the stink-eye.
Satan, attributed by some as responsible for the outrageous success of the books, had the following comments: "What, Miss Used-to-live-on-foodstamps? Look, I'm keeping up my end of the bargain. As long as she keeps sending me the souls of her unsuspecting readership, we're all happy. ...Cigar?"
Harry Potter and the Scene In Which He Dies, Taking Voldemort With Him (& What The Hell, Hermione For Good Measure) is expected to be on shelves late next year. Labels: Harry Potter
It's A Scorcher
Folks, the heat index today is at roughly 111 degrees! That's hot enough to cause brain damage. (Brain cells start to die at 106.) Stay inside, if ya can. Least 'til the sun goes down... Sheesh.
It's The First of the Month