Appreciation

I did my next-to-last day on SVU today. We were in the "precinct" and the background actors I remember most from a couple weeks ago when I did bg were there today. One in particular I was hoping to see was there. We greeted each other as he was about to head into bg holding while I was heading to the principle dressing room area. I saw in his eyes the recognition of what had taken place. We parted at that moment, each with our own wry smile.

"Wry" because two Thursday nights prior, we left together and talked about the life and doing the bg thing for a bit as we made our way to our respective forms of public transit. He's a pretty gregarious guy, sharing pictures of his dog and aspects of his life during the 11 hr day. I gathered from the day before that he was a bit of an OG in the room. He eventually revealed that he was one of the original core BG people for a few years until about 2006 when the decision was made to "refresh" the squad room (with new faces in the background....as in younger faces). He's in his 50s; looks 10 solar rotations less. One of the last things we discussed before parting ways was about people who say that they'll never do another bg job if they get a principal role (featured, speaking). We both agreed that this wouldn't stop either of us from doing background.

So, today, after that first interaction, I saw him as talking to another group as I walked to the snack table. On my way back, I stopped and leaned into him and said, "remember the conversation we had about going from bg to principal..." Bryce (sp?) is his name.

The other gentleman stuck out to me because I caught him with the cWj comedy act. The first day I was in the holding room, I walked in not knowing anybody and sat at a table by myself feeling very first-day-of-school-lunch-room.  Bryce was one of the people that sat at the table with me. Another was a woman called Mazzy who was THE most talkative person in the room*. Well, I was fairly quiet and tried to read as much as I could. She began chatting with some other guy in the room and said something that left me an opening to crack on her a little bit (as she had been on other people), so I did my thing that exploded the little shell I was in. She was taken aback (amiably), and the other gentleman - Big Dude I'll call him since I never got his name - thought it was particularly funny, and so I broke the ice with a few people in the room.  Part of the reason I call him Big Dude is because they had him sitting at the sign-in desk (so I guess he was supposed to be the desk sergeant) and he and I took turns trying to make each other crack as we performed our background magic. He as the officer and me as the perp getting ushered along by another lovely bg'er named Debra.

Today I say him and greeted him without saying anything. My preference was to let people figure it out. They've been there much longer than me and I figured they'd be able to tell anyway. When we first spoke, he asked me if I'd been there all day; I told him that I'd just gotten there. I started to say something then, but let it be. I'm suspicious he heard something from Bryce, because the next time I saw him, it was understood. He congratulated me several times with heartfeeling.

That is what I took away from today (well, yesterday now). Both of these men were genuinely happy to see that I'd gotten a shot. Bryce was actually my stand-in, so he was around longer and we got to chat a few more times.

It's times like this that start to trick you into thinking that it's not quite so much a horrid existence, this acting thing.


* edit 3/2: whereas Bryce was gregarious, Mazzy was bodacious.....if I ever see her again I may offer that as a stage name: Mazzy Bodacious. Very 70s British glamrock.

Yeah. But you won't get out of that car will you.

This past Monday at around 5:15, I was riding back from picking up my laptop. I'd just finished talking to a bike messenger I shot a few scenes with last summer from 14th to around 12th. We were in the right most lane, I left and he right (closest to the sidewalk). We rode slowly next to each other while we talked, then he turned off. As I rode on Broadway, I looked over to my left and noticed a rider coming from the opposite side of the street. He stood out to me for being an older gentleman of similar decent to me, though darker. His bike was a different brand, but similar in color. He had chrome fenders, however. I thought about how much the must weigh, that I still need to get some.

About a block or so further up, a cab charged up against toward the curb cutting me off. At first I assumed he was trying to get a fare (as they tend to do - have little regard for anything around them when trying to pick up), but the driver stops and starts yelling at me to through a seemingly Eastern European accent about never touching his car again. Before I can ascertain exactly what it is he's risked my personal well-being to say, he pulls off. I think for a second, then decide to catch him at the next light to ask exactly what his issue is - since I haven't touched anybody's car. I get there and babbles more, thought he "knows what he saw" and makes like he's going to spit on me. He pulls off again - and I am now....energized shall we say. I ride past him as he sits at the next light and try to talk to him again as he passes through the light making a left turn onto Houston. He continues to make the same claim except now managing to dismiss me at the same time (which is interesting since HE brought this up) and pedestrians see the exchange. After he's passed through, I tell a couple of them what happened, one of the remarking that perhaps the his passenger will see this and not tip him.

I continue south on Broadway. As I'm riding, I'm trying to remember the sequence of events, and begin to think that there must have been someone on his side that he's mistaken me for. I decide to go back to Houston and see if I can catch him. I see cabs ahead, but don't recognize the plate. I decide to continue through the Bowery as I've now amassed a large enough concentration of energy that it needs to dissipate. I keep riding and decide to try one last group of cabs ahead. One is not, it pulls off left...then I see him and go for it. I catch him near 1st to see ask if it was the driver side. I get there and get the first sign that he might have calmed down enough to deal with logic when he rolls down his window and says, "you are having good fitness". I ask if he was hit on the driver side; he responds yes. I try to tell him that I was on the RIGHT side of the street and could not have done it, that he (if this actually happened) has mistaken me for another rider - that I think must be the much older, darker-skinned, grey-bearded, rider wearing a jacket of a completely different color. He continues to insist he "knows what he saw". I let him pass again, first riding off south again, then AGAIN reconsidering and catch him in a long left turn line (that included concrete barriers on one side due to construction) and took a picture of his license plate, determined to report him to the T&LC, Transportation Alternatives or SOMETHING for having threatened/endangered a cyclist with his car.

And he better be glad that feigned, dramatic Euro-spit thing was only feigned. Because he would have caught a loogie then a fist.

I'm careful, I try to respect other people's space, I ask that mine be respected as well, I am tired of going about the world in fear.

Wanna be stupid? Fine. I'll just be making sure to bring it to you attention in the event you make that choice.

Last night:

Had a dream that I was fired from my current major tv acting job...perhaps because, on my first day, I heard that an actor had been replaced last week  - as in they actually had to re-shoot with a new actor. Which is kind of major....

Added to this is that we seemed to have been on some kind of abandoned factory set where, the next day, Grambling would be playing. So, on my way leaving it seemed that the day was turned into that day. So I got fired and then I was there to see Grambling.


I'll take half of that in real life.

bicycle -> redemption

Today while on the boat, I talked to a fellow cyclist about an electric bike, which turned into a conversation about why it can make sense to spend three grand on a bike in a city like nyc, which turned into a conversation about his crazy spoiled girlfriend's tickets, which brought up motorcycle licenses and whether you can one if your license was suspended in another state for driving several miles/hour past 100 on a public thoroughfare, which caused me to ask if he'd been drinking...

which led to a detailing of his recovery from chemical abuse and the pain involved in telling loved ones still addicted that they were cut off until better.



And you wonder why I believe in the bike?

unalien.

currently on the boat glancing over olive-toned, dark haired, almond eyed ma'am give a quite hot cold soldier to young male of similar description of a decidedly more (subsomething), supplicating nature


she, seeming to wipe remnants or expectations of tears.

and i'm wondering if Asian men and women of some certain specificity have the samesimilar strangestrained relation to each other as african-american men/women seem to.

(Let Tyler Perry, Wendy Williams and empowerment workshops tellit)
Connected by MOTOBLUR™

"See? See what you can do?

"Never mind can't tell one letter from another, never mind you born a
slave, never mind you lose your name, never mind your daddy dead, never
mind nothing. Here, this here, is what a man can do if he puts his mind
to it and his back in it. Stop sniveling."

Song of Solomon, Morrison, ch. 10

"So it was hard for me to latch onto a woman."

"Because I thought if I loved anything it would die.

But I did latch on once.

But I guess once is all you can manage".


Song of Solomon, Ch. 13, T Morrison

Education

I sent my family some books I thought they might find interesting. My mother finished one I sent for her and sent to my sister and asked me why I had.

Back yonder (aka: a few months ago), it felt like a way to contribute back to the family after all my time away.

Thinking about it now...it just occurred to me that I am at the place where I can challenge my parents academically...which may be at the core of sending them the books....or is apart of the contribution. I've thought about asking her to write..

Giving them "assignments"...

My nephew asked my what were some books I thought he should read a few years ago and I sent him a few.

But, I think this idea of challenge is about a few things....like, giving them..my mother something to do...to keep her going.

Or, maybe, help her pick up somewhere she may have left off due to circumstance. I still think she can do a lot. I keep hearing her say it's too late.

That has a lot to do with why I want to go back home so much - I feel like I can be an instigator.

But maybe that's more about finding something for me to do in a place that's easy..?

I find interesting that I want her to write, my dad (as she told me the other night) wants her to write, but she doesn't want to share it with anybody else -- even the thoughts on a book she read that I sent her. She'll share it with me, but not with anybody else.

...

RollerCoaster

Tuesday: Did background as perp on SVU despite previous position against playing people handcuffed on the ground. No handcuffing took place, met some really nice people in holding. Educated them regarding Tracy Morrow's video acting.

Wednesday: Arrived back at Pier 62 by 9a (zzzz) for very first match doing background. Wished that I'd done as I'd promised the day before and brought dominoes. What I DID bring were two other outfits....and then didn't even shoot, although I was there for 11 hours (bonus!). Second interaction with Tracy Morrow. You wish you were me.

Thursday: Didn't get called back for 3rd day on SVU as hoped....looked around at buying a PD uni in order that I might have a shot at becoming BG core. Which would be a cool way to make some eat money.

Friday: Got email about TV casting from manager for SVU. Wondered whether it mattered that I'd just done BG, decided to keep that to myself; thought about irony of booking a principal role one week after doing bg on same set. Feel like I have an ok shot at it...despite that it is AGAIN playing a perp.

Saturday: Asked actor whom I knew as a "worker" if she was available to help with audition, received a msg from her that ended in "You WILL book this!" Her confidence seemed strange; struck me for some reason.

Sunday: got stood up by somebody I bought tickets to a Broadway show for - ironic because I'd already decided this was the last time I'd do this (edit 3/2 - supposedly due to his incarceration). Didn't catch previously mentioned actor by phone or otherwise. Spent remainder of night and plenty of succeeding day salty. Decide that instead of telling self that I'm leaving if I don't book, I'm leaving if I DO book. Irony has a way hovering it's old self around me and would love giving me a nice case of self-conflict to deal with.

Monday: Go to audition, felt like I did what I'd intended. Spent much of day checking for call or e-mails from manager. Finally told self "next" and began sifting through bg calls to submit for and whatever else distracted me on the internet. A couple hours later looked and saw that I had an e-mail from him informing me of a callback the following Wednesday. Spent rest of evening NOT looking at lines.

Tuesday: Distracted by all the things the internet distracts me with. Finally looked at sides again that night.

Wednesday: Put off getting out of bed as usual, thought I heard roommate get up and decided to let him have the bathroom so he could get to work, heard emergency responders come to door, found out roommate was having some sort of medical-possibly-emergency situation. Was shaken, still had to get to callback. Got there in the very nick of time. Do audition for producers. Am given an adjustment. Done. Leave feeling very unsure. Now waiting to hear from manager AND roommate. Milled about ruminating and worrying more. Decide that I have got to find something else to do with myself because I simply can't eat myself alive like this anymore. At home, decide to play with recently acquired video camera, after which I notice that manager has sent inquiry about my availability for next few weeks. Relieved of some of that part of the worry, decide to go inquire about roommate. Find him; he seems ok for the time being. Go driving/shopping.

Thursday (today): Procrastinate about going to print casting. Expecting a post-work crowd, get there and am able to get in and out almost immediately, chat amicably with auditioner following me. Leave a stack of photog cards with rest of cards advertising actor services and shows. Head toward NYPL Midtown branch when I get a call from a private number, thinking it is The Package Lady letting me know that somebody has a package and if she can bring it down. In fact, it is MANAGER - and I know what it means because he wouldn't have called otherwise:


he tells me that I've booked SVU (which I'd figured out) for 5 to 6 days of work (WHICH I HAD NOT!!!).

Hung up phone, leaned against building on 40th between 6th and Broadway and proclaimed quite loudly that I'd been cast on Law & Order SVU.

Now just going to pay rent and wait and see what's going on with roommate.

(train, having careened down it final drop, pulls into station readying itself for the next trip back up that first long rise)

Confidence

does nothing for me. I need a motivating fear of looking like a complete ass to get me to work.

(or something like that)

"Like vanity."

"Can't nobody fly with all that sh!t. Wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that's weighing you down."


(from Song of Solomon by Morrison)

I'm pretty sure I wish this audition was Tuesday.

Remind me to talk about my stand on playing "perps", criminals.

"The fact that no one understands you

doesn't make you an artist."

Gem gleaned from playing Zuma.

(sigh)

I really hate having these headaches.

bad posture sucks.

(zzzzzzzZZZZZSSSSSr

I am a Jr.

Which means somewhere (supposedly somewhere in the south Atlantic on a bigg-ass white boat at the moment) I have a Sr.

I'm currently going through one of my strange sleep patterns. Probably this is the strangest because it's not even nocturnal - I go to sleep around seven and am up in the wee hours. I've been having headaches that I think I due to fatigue from being sleepy while out exposed to bright sunlight (and it has been quite sunny this week). However, if I can manage to stay in the bed until about 3a-4a, I usually do ok.

In the past I have absolutely HATED sleeping like this. I think it doesn't bother me now because I read (I am behind but trying to get through a huge biography at the moment), search purposely around the internet or mess around with photos. So, I've been waking up during what many think of as the middle of the night, but I'm not having that groggy, pissed-off, disjointed,woke-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night feeling.

I'm sort of liking my sleep sched at the moment (at THIS moment, anyway).

I say all that to say this:

one of my fathers peculiarities was going to sleep by 9p and waking up at 4a;

I despite all the protestations to the contrary during my youth, I am turning into my Sr.

This is not a new realization, but there are still times when you chillin and it just sort of (!)s across the face.

.....