Letters to Holly

Friday, November 17

A Comment on the PlayStation 3 Insanity

There are hardcore gamers who will do anything for the latest technology.

Then there are gamers loyal to Sony and will buy anything that brand unleashes.

Then there are the people hoping to sell it on the secondary market.

I am a generational gamer. I've had a console system since I was in single-digit ages. I had an IntelliVision, Mattel's system that melded the availability of Atari 2600 and the graphics of the ColecoVision. I loved that machine. Love it. I played it so much (only child, remember) that I killed the unit and had to get another to replace it. It was reluctantly that I moved to Nintendo, but from that I had a Sega Genesis and then the PlayStation. I worked at the daily newspaper when the PlayStation 2 was released, and it was because of my paper job that I got one on Launch Day.

The paper sent its youngest newsroom workers to spread over the local stores and cover the people lined up to buy a system. And of course we decide to line up too. But I had a plan. Sony was only releasing a certain amount of systems. I divided that number by the number of major franchises and then factored how many stores were in each franchise. For instance, Best Buy had X national stores, so each store would get a minimum of Y units. And Best Buy had fewer stores than Circuit City and Wal-mart, so they would have more units per store.

I was assigned to cover an area Wal-Mart, and so I stood for a few hours before being informed the store had allocated its slim supply to the first people in line. The next morning, I went by Best Buy. There was a line of about 30 people outside the locked store, and I knew that Best Buy would give more units than that for each of their stores. I got in line. About 15 minutes later, the managers handed out numbered paper to correspond with each unit they had. They had about 50 to sell, and I was standing among the 40s. I had a PS2. A few hours later, the store opened, and I walked right up to the counter and was handed my PS2. Other paper people were in line for hours and hours. And while I had the shortest wait, we all grabbed on. That week, I wrote an article about my ex-wife hooking it up to our stereo.

And I loved the Ps2. I still have it, and it runs fine. We played Katamari Damacy, Mortal Kombat and Rampage on it. We had to get a DVD player because the newer DVDs surpassed what the PS2 could play. I just bought a new game for it last night (wrestling, naturally). I don't have the urge to get a Ps3, and it's possible the Ps2 will be my last console. I just don't have the time to devote to that focused a gaming experience. Games that require 20+ hours of gameplay could take me a year to finish.

So, no, I have no desire to get into that mad crowd of PS3 fanatics, but I wish them well-behaved camaraderie and warm feet.

Speaking of shopping, I order Your Sister's Christmas gifts from Amazon this week, and she's gonna plotz.

Thursday, November 16

I Got The Call

They offered me Gooper. Rehearsals start Monday night after Thanksgiving.

Fuck, yeah.

Anxiety, Humility, Doubt

And that's why we love the theatre.

I spent a good portion of yesterday reading over Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I read both Brick and Gooper felt I had a good handle on them both. I didn't see any portions of dialogue that I would have a problem with, nothing felt inconsistent with the characters and I thought I could deliver the material well. I arrived at the callback at 6:30 and found myself amid a small group of guys. Half were obviously there for the Big Daddy role and there were maybe four who could read Brick and Gooper.

The assistant, Victoria, told us what pages to prepare for our auditions and explained that we would be called in pairs to read Daddy/Brick scenes. And off they went. And I wasn't called in. The director came out to survey the attendance, looked at me, and said "I'm sorry. We won't be needing you for a while." I was confused. What had I said to suggest I didn't want to read for Brick? He commented that I had a good feel for the character in the first audition. So I waited a bit. I'm a new guy. I don't know how to ask about this with this new group. In the meantime, I was confused. Should I ignore the Brick pages and focus entirely on maximizing my Gooper script? Or should I keep practicing the Brick material in case I did get a shot?

After 15 minutes of going over both roles and making nonproductive eye contact with the stage manager, I approached Victoria. Maybe I said something to suggest I didn't want Brick, I offered. I don't know the protocol, I explained. She said she couldn't help me in this and that I should ask the director. I was afraid she'd say that, and I understood fully that I did not want to put her in the middle with any appearance of advocating any applicant. But I was concerned that by the time I got in there, it would be too late. And indeed, before I was called in for Gooper, the director called in all the Bricks and Big Daddies for some sort of final line-up.

By this time, some actresses were arriving for their callbacks. The men exited the audition room, and most of them left. I was soon called in for a Gooper scene. Victoria let me pass by as she chose a few gals to read Big Momma and the wives. As she did this, I snuck in to the audition room, greeted the director, and asked the question: Had I disqualified myself from a Brick callback. No, he explained simply, it was nothing I said. And that was the simple truth. I just wasn't in the running. Fair enough, I thought, and I thanked him.

Now I knew it was a longshot to get that role. I'm new. I'm fresh off the street with these people, and they have no idea how responsible I am. Also, I've got gray hair. Brick should be about 27. I'm physically closer in age to Gooper. And looking at the Bricks that auditioned, it's easy to see I don't have the classic leading man looks that Brick should have. He has to be a golden child of sorts, and I'm a naturally darker type of actor. The director did go out of his way to apologize and say the callback should have been clear on that point, that I was reading for Gooper only. He didn't have to say that. So, it was Gooper or bust.

And I did get to read the scene about three times with a mix of actresses. Some, as had been the case Sunday, didn't know the play much less the scene, and each had to be walked through it a little bit before we started reading aloud. I'm a married man who commutes two hours a day, and I have time to read the script weeks before the audition. I wonder what they're doing to keep them from cracking open the play before they show up. Maybe these are people holding down two or three jobs. Maybe they all have kids.

I thought I did pretty well. I was slower, and that helped hold my accent. I was clear in projection, and I was consistent in each reading. Sometimes I think of a famous, great actor auditioning for the role and imitate them. For this, I was thinking of Gene Hackman in Mississippi Burning. But more of a jerk. In fact, if one can ever somewhat imitate or channel Hackman, I think they'll deliver a good performance.

In the last read, the stage manager asked which form of my name I prefer. I say what I always say (I like Gregory, but I'm not picky), and she said she wanted to get into the habit of saying it right. I immediately was gladdened as this suggested I'll be around, and I joked for her to please let me be around enough for that to be necessary. Again, I enjoyed it. I got to read the prime dickish Gooper line a few times. As I was leaving, however, the director asked if I would be willing to play other roles in the play, and I said sure. And all would be well in my head and gut had he not asked me that. That suggests I auditioned myself out of the part. I don't know what I could have done to not make the lines work. I think I grasp the character. I thought I could communicate that. He's who I gravitated toward initially. I would feel worse seeing someone else play this part than any other role in the play. There's only two other roles in the play I could do: the preacher and the doctor. Much smaller roles. Certainly manageable, significantly less fun.

So I drove home, dissecting mentally the callback and trying to spot my weaknesses. Maybe he's asking just to allow himself as many options as possible, I argued. Maybe I hammed the accent too much. Maybe, I admit, I'm just not good anymore. I've been out of theatre for two years. Maybe my acting muscles have atrophied. And I'll confess, it got a little pouty in my head, but I reminded myself (eventually) that all I wanted was to be satisfied with my audition. That's distinct from them being satisfied with it. I know that I had a good reading of Brick and Gooper. That was my initial goal. And if they offer a smaller role, it will be an investment of time and effort to the next role I audition for with them or another local theatre.

I did notice though that the in-town theatre is gonna present Broadway Bound which was my first show with Spartanburg Little Theatre. If I don't get anything with Hot Tin Roof, I can throw myself at a rebound audition. But I want that Asheville show. And now I wait to hear back with some measure of anxiety and a scoash of hope that Gooper isn't out of my reach.

Tick tock, tick tock.

Wednesday, November 15

Six Hours 'Til Callback

Of course, I'm nervous.

There's two roles I'm aiming for: Brick and Gooper

Me as Brick
Pros: I can act. I look fairly young. I'm in fairly good shape.
Cons: They don't know me. I'm a little old to play Brick. I'm not in former pro-QB shape.

Me as Gooper
Pros: I can act. I have no problem playing a dick. I'm about the right age.
Cons: They don't know me. They might prefer him to be a wimp. I'm maybe a bit young to play a father of five.

I'll hang around town tonight, read the script again at supper, and go to the theatre at 6:30. I wore a shirt that shows off my shoulders, and I'm trimmed the facial hair back a bit.

All I can do, I suppose.

Tuesday, November 14

Called Back

I made the first round of auditions as I was asked to come back tomorrow night to read again. No idea which part I'm in the running for. But, as with Sunday, I may know the play better than the other hopefuls. That could give me an edge. Either way, I made my first call back. And that's worth at least a touchdown dance.

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (6-3), NY Jets (5-4), Oakland (2-7)
Philly (5-4), Detroit (2-7)

My Teams
Miami (3-6), Pittsburgh (3-6)
Philly (5-4), Carolina (5-4)

Picture of the Day
The first extraterrestrial hurricane was captured by the Cassini probe at Saturn's south pole. The storm is 5,000 miles across.

Monday, November 13

Initiation, Caffeination, Audition

On Friday, I was made an honorary member of the fraternity. It was a short ceremony, involving me and another initiate. I'm now a Friends of the Arts. I got a nice pin to wear. The national officers were there to watch, and we chatted afterward about convention and initiation details. It was very pleasant. We drove into Asheville for the ceremony and bummed around town for the rest of the day. We bought a frame for the certificate so I can hang it in my office. We ate lunch at Mellow Mushroom, stepped inside the comic store, and bought a new phone for the living room at Target. It was a pedestrian afternoon.

I helped Your Sis stamp textbooks on Saturday and read Cat On A Hot Tin Roof a few times. I started to think I could play the lead male even though I initially aimed for the supporting male role. Can't say what triggered that change. That night we caught The Prestige, the Hugh Jackman/Christian Bale magician thriller. It's a nice idea but ultimately a satisfying movie. It drags a bit in the second half. It looks great though, and it doesn't insult the audience. We hit Krispy Kreme, and I wolfed down four doughnuts and a cup of coffee. Sugar rush? Oh, yes. Oh shit, yes.

Sunday night was the audition, and it was by far the most formal I've been in. The previous auditions all had the applicants in the same room, reading with each other and auditioning in front of each other. We could adjust our strategies based on what the other guy did. Not this time. The applicants entered the lobby and filed bio sheets and any resumes and headshots we made. I made a photosheet that afternoon to show them what I looked like with and without the beard. I also listed my shows in Spartanburg and Greenville. There were many more women there for that lead role than men. But this was the first of two days of auditions, and tonight's may be an all-male affair.



We were given short clips of the script to read for each part we wanted. I grabbed copies for the two male roles I thought I could manage. An assistant, Victoria, escorted applicants into a small room where sat the directors and what appeared to be interns reading cues. I went in about half an hour after I arrived. I greeted them shook hands with them, explained where I worked and lived. The house is an hour away, but my office is five minutes up the road. I read the lead role first, and it involved some of the most emotional actions he has. I thought it went just OK; I may have rushed it, and my accent might have slipped. I had dry mouth, and my heartbeat was going nuts. I felt stupid. I had auditioned maybe a dozen times, but it had been two years since my last play, and I had never stepped foot into this building before. I was told I had a "good footing for the character," which was a tidbit they didn't have to share. So I felt pretty good. I asked to read for the supporting part and was asked if I could hang around until they watched the rest of the applicants. I did. And about 90 minutes later, I was escorted back in to read that bit. I was the last person to leave. In the meantime, I chatted with folks, most had worked with this theater before. Victoria checked on me to see if I would wait a little longer each time, I and I assured her I was fine. Of all the places I could be at that moment, I was back in a theater. What was to complain about? We also had a chat about the use of "ma'am," and she made it clear she was not a "ma'am," she was Victoria. But it was friendly conversation, and I appreciated her concern. Many of the others had significant stage experience; some were professional actors. I was surprised by how many people showed up without knowing the play. Parents brought their kids to try out for roles without knowing what kind of situations they may be involved with. The play has some strong language and adult material. I gave one guy a complete rundown of the play right before he walked in and read. I performed my second read better than the first as this was the one I focused on for weeks. I think my accent held better, but I still felt like I rushed it. I thanked Victoria, left the building, and called Your Sis with the details. They don't need me to come back in tonight to read, and now I just wait to hear any news. As I left they said we'll see you Tuesday or Wednesday, which may be what they tell everyone. I can't make assumptions.

I'm content with the experience. I wanted to audition, and I did so. I found a play I wanted to try for, read it, practiced a bit, showed up, read, and didn't embarrass myself. That's all I wanted. Anything more than this is gravy. The rehearsal schedule looks like plenty of time to prepare, and I have no conflicts with it.

Moving Picture of the Day
The trailer for Spider-Man 3. I can't tell you excited I am for this. Sandman may be my favorite Spidey villain, and I can remember reading about him when I was four.