Kenny will laugh…
My friend Kenny is a bit of an outdoorsman, which is a bit of an understatement. The fact is Kenny refuses to be cooped up indoors without earning one hell of a good working wage for the imposition – a wage which then affords him more and more pleasurable outdoor activities. He is also a bit of a handyman, so in the time I’ve known him (seventeen years), Kenny has repaired and rebuilt more cars than I can count; refurbished several boats; collected a number of kayaks, windsurfers, and jet skis; and housed some of these cars, boats, and water-toys in a huge-ass garage he built, by himself, on the side lot of a house that’s also had him tearing out walls and floors and building a half-round deck, complete with built-in benches, a table, and an aquarium that shares an inside wall. On that deck sits the one item that, like me, has followed Kenny through each stage of workmanship and water-play: his grill. Because, of course, Kenny cooks like he does everything else: outdoors.
Now I, on the other hand, am a great indoorsman. Unlike Kenny, I could never sleep happily upright in a window-netted Jeep filled and topped with whitewater equipment, dreaming of the next day’s mosquito-filled adventure. Give me air conditioning, a mattress, and a refuge from insects, thank you very much! However, on the occasions that Kenny did manage to drag me out of my four walls for some form of waterific day trip, the end-day capper was always the same: we’d ditch the wet towels and store the skis, then he’d fire up the then very small charcoal grill while I slathered on the bug spray, shaking my head at the ridiculous effort involved in heating a couple of barbecue ribs.
So imagine Kenny’s surprise (and my comeuppance) when he finds out that for the last month in San Diego, I have been a grillin’ fool -- despite the 100 degree heat! Oh yes, my friend, I have discovered the quick and tasty goodness that comes from the mouth of my father’s new propane-swilling Weber implement of raw meat destruction. Hamburgers, hot dogs, sausages, pork, chicken, steak, kebabs, and – best of all – white corn, still in the husk. Yum, yum! In fact, when Orrick served up some fresh halibut, I discovered that a grill even makes fish palatable. Sold American!
It took seventeen years, but Kenny has won this round. No more will I shake my head and ponder why a perfectly good indoor stove is left alone. I’m sold. But it may take another seventeen years of urging for other outdoor adventures to follow. My grill, after all, lives mere steps from cool, conditioned air and a warm bed.
Anne-Geri will laugh…
My friend Anne-Geri and I met the October before last when we were both cast in a Nashville production of Blithe Spirit. Although I’d considered myself a “Ruth” type and did, in fact, read for the part of the still-living wife, I was delighted and surprised to find myself cast in the more playful and mischievous role of ghost-wife Elvira. Nearly two years and a more than few pounds later, I did not expect the same luck while auditioning for a San Diego production of said show. Fortunate, because I did not have it. What did transpire, though, is a lesson in auditioning that must be shared.
This go-round, having been surprised at my casting in this show before, I went in prepared to read for any female part, but not surprisingly the director immediately pegged me as a “Ruth” – and a fabulous Ruth at that (aw shucks). I was offered a callback and returned in two days time to read. Over the course of three hours, I read for Ruth again and again, garnering with each read director comments that made my cheeks blush and my ego swell. Together we studied my resume, discussed my experience, and conspired over the character. When he gave other actors notes, he simply smiled at me and said “You’re brilliant! Keep doing what you’re doing!” As the evening progressed and actors were released, the bulk of the cast was apparent: I could not pinpoint Madame Arcati or Edith (I’d read with neither), but Charles, Elvira, and Ruth had been chosen – and I was in. A very capable Mrs. Bradman had been selected, but a Dr. Bradman had not. The final two reads of the night would seemingly determine which of two remaining men would get the part. I, as Ruth, was called in to read with each of them. Confident and eager, I sealed my fate.
The first of the two Dr. Bradman candidates and I entered the stage, sides in hand. Near the bottom of the second page, however, a third character appeared. To keep the scene moving and give my partner his cues, I took on the second female role. Wanting to differentiate this new voice from Ruth and being silly, I pitched Mrs. Bradman high, dropped the British accent, and threw her lines speedily away. And the director frickin' loved it. When the second Dr. Bradman candidate was called to read, he read against a different "Ruth"… and I was offered the part of Mrs. Bradman.
If you don’t know the script well, suffice it to say that this turn of events took more than its fair share of line burden off of me. I will, at least, have ample time backstage to learn how to knit, etch, or paint scenes from the book of Genesis on the ceiling.
But I’ve already learned one thing, an important lesson which I’ll share with you: when an unassigned character appears in an audition scene for which you seem to have a lock on the lead, instead of adopting the role of that new character, adopt a doe-eyed look of confusion and say “uh… would you like us to stop here?”
I'll post pictures of the Creation of Bradman fresco when I've finished it.
My mother might laugh…
I was cleaning out a few drawers in my bedroom recently when I came across a cache of things which struck me as oddly hilarious taken together.
You see, my parents are travelers, which means that they are often given travel goodies by the attendants of their flights from point A to point B. Little make-your-trip pleasantries. As the folks continue to travel and their collection of these items grows, I occasionally become the beneficiary of freebie castoffs. One such acquisition was a rather comfy but rarely used mask that completely blocks the sunlight from a day-sleeper’s weary eyes. Exhibit A, the mask, was found tucked away under some old T-shirts.
Now on Fridays and Saturdays here in La Apartment Complex, things get rather noisy as college kids and military Joes try to out-drink and out-rowdy each other. At some point, in an attempt to get some weekend sleep, I bought a box of earplugs. Exhibit B, the earplugs, was stashed in my delicates drawer.
In the past few weeks I’ve been clenching and grinding my teeth like nobody’s business. I bought, boiled, and molded a Doctor’s Night Guard to my mouth in an attempt to prevent next-morning pain in my jaw. Exhibit C, the mouth guard, was found tucked under my pillow.
And then there’s the NasalCrom nasal spray which I found hidden away inexplicably somewhere near the hair do-lollies. Exhibit D.
Exhibits A - D: eye mask, earplugs, mouth guard, and nose spray. Quite the pretty picture of bedtime, no? No really... I took a picture, but Blogger wouldn't cooperate with posting it. A real shame -- because pictures that one takes of oneself while blindfolded and holding a bottle of nasal spray in one's free hand are always the best. (Hey, have YOU tried it?)
It's just as well, though. Without such evidence to the contrary, someone might still think I'm cute.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Palates Both for Sweet and Sour
Here we are in July, and so far it’s a real humdinger with more to come.
On the first, my beau and I went to the San Diego County Fair. Not to ride the rides or feed money to the midway, thank you, but to walk through the judged gardens, peruse the sales booths, and catch the evening concert. Kenny Loggins has long been on my list of artists to see, and the show was worth the wait.
On the second, we enjoyed an early Independence Weekend barbeque with his folks, complete with well slathered ribs and the best white corn on the cob I’ve ever tasted.
On the seventh, we went to the Old Globe for a performance of Othello. Though we enjoyed the show, despite the rather uncomfortable seating, neither of us was wowed by the production’s Iago. As I was recasting the role in my head, the character revealed his “four times seven years” age and my options severely narrowed. The final tableau, too, left me with the impression that perhaps the director was more to blame than the actor for the quality we’d disliked.
I was rather taken with the actress who played Emilia, however, and found myself far more drawn to that character than ever in previous renditions.
On the ninth, Mr. Smith and I attended the PowPAC theatre awards. I’d been nominated for my role in Move Over, Mrs. Markham, which had begun the season a year ago. The nominations and winners are determined by season ticket holders who fill ballots after each show, and though they’d granted me a nod, I did not take home the trophy. As the only Aubrey nominee in my category I was disappointed, but as the unknown Nashville actress I was not surprised.
My folks returned to San Diego that evening, and the next day my mother and I went to lunch at Bennigan’s. Years ago, after the Fairy Godmother in Shrek 2 demanded a Monte Cristo sandwich, I looked it up (a turkey, ham, and cheese sandwich battered and fried, dusted with powdered sugar, and served with a red currant jelly for dipping) and joked that I just HAD to try one someday. Well, guess what the $5.99 special was this Monday. Odd, odd sandwich, that.
On the 17th, I’ll be auditioning for a show in a theatre where I’ve hoped to work since coming to San Diego. However, as I’m far from the only one vying to work there, I won’t be holding my breath, just giving it my best shot.
On the 19th, the horse racing season begins at Del Mar – a short season which will end September 6th – and plans to attend are in the works. Of course, I don’t have a particularly good track record with San Diego sporting events, so we’ll see. I never made it to a Gulls (hockey) game before the team hung up its skates – for good. And here we are at the All-Star break and I still haven’t made it to a Padres game.
And then, on the 30th, the Aubreys will be awarded. I’ve bought the dress and the tickets, but I expect to walk out of the ceremony this year will little more than a full belly and a light buzz. Because I won last year and one of the two shows I’m up for was not well received overall, I believe the judges will be spreading the love to other actors this time ‘round. But hell, the traveling panel has now nominated me for every show I’ve done in a county the size of Connecticut, and that’s an honor all of its own.
On the first, my beau and I went to the San Diego County Fair. Not to ride the rides or feed money to the midway, thank you, but to walk through the judged gardens, peruse the sales booths, and catch the evening concert. Kenny Loggins has long been on my list of artists to see, and the show was worth the wait.
On the second, we enjoyed an early Independence Weekend barbeque with his folks, complete with well slathered ribs and the best white corn on the cob I’ve ever tasted.
On the seventh, we went to the Old Globe for a performance of Othello. Though we enjoyed the show, despite the rather uncomfortable seating, neither of us was wowed by the production’s Iago. As I was recasting the role in my head, the character revealed his “four times seven years” age and my options severely narrowed. The final tableau, too, left me with the impression that perhaps the director was more to blame than the actor for the quality we’d disliked.
I was rather taken with the actress who played Emilia, however, and found myself far more drawn to that character than ever in previous renditions.
On the ninth, Mr. Smith and I attended the PowPAC theatre awards. I’d been nominated for my role in Move Over, Mrs. Markham, which had begun the season a year ago. The nominations and winners are determined by season ticket holders who fill ballots after each show, and though they’d granted me a nod, I did not take home the trophy. As the only Aubrey nominee in my category I was disappointed, but as the unknown Nashville actress I was not surprised.
My folks returned to San Diego that evening, and the next day my mother and I went to lunch at Bennigan’s. Years ago, after the Fairy Godmother in Shrek 2 demanded a Monte Cristo sandwich, I looked it up (a turkey, ham, and cheese sandwich battered and fried, dusted with powdered sugar, and served with a red currant jelly for dipping) and joked that I just HAD to try one someday. Well, guess what the $5.99 special was this Monday. Odd, odd sandwich, that.
On the 17th, I’ll be auditioning for a show in a theatre where I’ve hoped to work since coming to San Diego. However, as I’m far from the only one vying to work there, I won’t be holding my breath, just giving it my best shot.
On the 19th, the horse racing season begins at Del Mar – a short season which will end September 6th – and plans to attend are in the works. Of course, I don’t have a particularly good track record with San Diego sporting events, so we’ll see. I never made it to a Gulls (hockey) game before the team hung up its skates – for good. And here we are at the All-Star break and I still haven’t made it to a Padres game.
And then, on the 30th, the Aubreys will be awarded. I’ve bought the dress and the tickets, but I expect to walk out of the ceremony this year will little more than a full belly and a light buzz. Because I won last year and one of the two shows I’m up for was not well received overall, I believe the judges will be spreading the love to other actors this time ‘round. But hell, the traveling panel has now nominated me for every show I’ve done in a county the size of Connecticut, and that’s an honor all of its own.