Who's Your Agent?

I have an agent. Or, more accurately, I have an agency -- one that "launched the careers of Ashley Judd and Reese Witherspoon." I signed on two years ago, and have rarely heard from them since.

Part of an actor's job is to hound his agency for work until he's proven to be a money-maker for them, but I never did. I allowed myself to sink into obscurity in the actor files because I'd gone in looking for voiceover work, not acting gigs. Still, they did send me out to work. Once. Last year, they handed me a basketball mask sent me downtown to pass out goodies promoting the NBA Finals on ABC. It wasn't a career move, but it was fun and easy money. And there's nothing like orange rubber headgear to make a girl feel special.

They also sent me out to an audition. Once. The Shop At Home network was looking for a Plus Size model, and my agency pulled ME out of the depths of their files. Now, I could happily shave ten to twenty pounds, but I don't shop in the Plus sizes, thank you very much! I was obviously not what Shop At Home was looking for, and it was as obvious that my agency didn't know that. I didn't bother to correct them. Instead, I chalked it up to experience. I'd been hoping for voice work anyway. I forgot about them. And wouldn't you know... they called today.

There is an audition this afternoon in Nashville. Something to do with home furnishings. I didn't get the full scoop; I can't be there. I'm in San Diego, planning to fly back to Nashville tomorrow. How's that for timing?

My stay in Tennessee will be a short one en route to Michigan for my uncle's memorial this weekend. Then I'll return to Califoria to continue rehearsals for my current show.

My current show. You'd think, at least, I'd have mentioned THAT to my agent. "Sorry, I'm unavailable; I'm doing a show in San Diego." But no, I said I couldn't make it today because "I'm in California." Somebody slap me.

'Til Tuesday,

Kel