dear woman who works at the mobil mart...

Thank you for brightening my day so! You have the pleasant demeanor and facial expression of someone who is forced to carry a softball in their butt.

some stuff...

Sorry I haven't been posting as regularly lately. I've been caught up in the trying to get a voice over thing going. It's taking up a lot of my free time.
It's not the easiest thing to get involved in. Hard to find the paths to where the jobs are and hard to get the jobs when you do.
I bought a book on the subject, hoping for some insight/answers. I will condense the contents of the book for you now. It says, more or less:
"There are 15 times more people trying to get work as voice over professionals as there are people trying to get work as stage/film/television actors. Thank you for buying my book. Give up now."
I wish I had skipped to the last page before buying the book.
I never was very good at listening to advice from people who know what they're talking about, so I've not given up.
I'm still auditioning through the voices.com website and for the most part, don't really care if I get a job or not. I'm trying to get my voice and technique down, but lately, my throat has been closing when I step in front of the microphone. It's nerves.
Working on it...
Some of the scripts that are presented through the site are downright weird, but they give an understanding of just how wide reaching is the need for voice-over talent.
Yesterday, the Jenny Craig corporation presented a script for an upcoming sales kickoff meeting. They want someone to read as though they were the voice on the tape at the beginning of the Mission Impossible television show. However, they want the voice read "with a slight Swiss or French or at the very least European accent".
No problem. I'll get right on that.

descriptions that describe nothing...

I saw an advertisement in the mail the other day for Blue Hippo computers. This is one of those companies who state that they can get a computer to everyone, regardless of credit issues or if you ever flashed a bus of grandmothers.
The description for the computer you can purchase from them is something very like the below. I apologize I don't have the ad in front of me, so this is not a direct quote, but the spirit is accurate.

Get a great, VISTA-ready computer, with a fast processor, plenty of memory, loads of storage space and a ton of software.

Fast, plenty, loads and a ton. Descriptors that describe nothing specifically.
So I went onto their site to see the actual specs on the computer they were offering.

Here are the specs:
AMD Athlon 64 3200+ processor
512MB Memory
80GB Hard Drive

So, if you do a simple Google search for AMD Athlon 64 3200+ processor, you will find reviews for it after it had been released in 2003. The steam driven Ford Model T was considered fast at one point, too.

They call the machine VISTA ready. With 512MB of memory. While I'm sure VISTA will at least start with this processor/memory combo, therefore accuratley designating the computer as "ready", it sure ain't gonna run good.

80GB is a good size for an MP3 player.

In short, this is not a good computer, but if you be a beggar, a chooser you cannot be.
Still, they want you to just give them 100 dollars to "build a credit history" with them. Then, they are asking for 52 weeks of $39.99 or about 2100 dollars.
2100 dollars? Yikes. This computer is worth, perhaps, 200 dollars. That's a nice markup. I wish I could find out if anyone was buying computers from them.
I would like to open a sandwich shop near where they live. I would offer them:
A great sandwich, with plenty of meat, loads of cheese on a ton of bread.
It would be a Chef Boyardee meatball, with a squirt of Cheez-Whiz, on a saltine cracker. It would cost 500 dollars.

I just noticed Blue Hippo wants 9 weeks of payments before they send you your crappy computer. Before they'll even send you the computer, they want twice what the computer is worth. Genius.
With some more looking around, I see the company was founded in 2003, the same year the AMD Athlon 64 3200+ processor was introduced.
I wonder what they were selling then? Perhaps the digital watch that used to play the horn sound from Bo and Luke Duke's car.

more voice over stuff...

The ongoing anxiety I am experiencing about feeling silly standing in a closet talking to myself is becoming troublesome. If I am going to attempt this voice over crap at even a casual level, I have to get over it or move on and forget about it.
Jenn informed me that she would be at her mother's house tonight, so I would have the house to myself.
Perfect, I thought. With the apartment empty, I'll dive into some auditions and just get them done. I won't even care if I get jobs from them, I'll just use the time to get used to standing in a closet talking to myself.
I get home from work tonight, pull up some scripts and go into the closet. After a while, I manage to get past the silliness and begin to forget and just focus.
I achieve a level of focus that is frighteningly difficult for me, so I am completely freaked out when I hear a light tapping on the door.
Because the house was empty.
Except it wasn't.
Jenn came home to get some stuff.
Now, this is Jenn's home. She has every right to come home whenever she wants. I understand that. She doesn't understand that I am massively weirded out by a gentle tapping on a door that my mind was convinced was not to have anyone on the other side.
She kept asking if I was mad at her, which I wasn't, though I was mad at my own stupid reaction.
I choose hobbies that manage to frustrate the hell out of me. I think I'm missing the whole hobby point.
Not that this is a hobby. This is a future career for me. It would be nice, anyway.
I went to the gym and calmed down. When I got home, Jenn was gone.
I went back into the closet and managed to focus again. This is a miracle for me.

Here's some of what I said in the closet:

"You're Listening To Music Intrend With DJ Amp And Nooker"

"Music Intrend By Your Request"

"Music Intrend"

"Music Hot! Music Hit!"

"Talk A Break With DJ Amp"

The spelling mistakes are not mine. I don't even know what the hell I was talking about. It was stuff for a Filipino, web-based, radio station.
I'm not sure dealing with a Filipino Nooker is legal.

voice over stuff...

Sometime ago, when I was miserably unemployed, I attempted to start a career as a voice-over professional. People always tell me what a great voice I have, so I figured it would be easy.
I was wrong and an impressive failure.
As I failed so completely and massively, I have decided to attempt it again.
I'm hoping I've learned the same lessons I learned after the first time I went on stage to do stand up comedy. People always told me I was funny, so I got on stage with no preparation at all and had to have my ashes swept off the stage. When I attempted it again, I did a vast quantity of pre-work and saw a lot more success.
It's interesting that the last time I did stand up was in the same span of unemployment as the last time I attempted doing voice-over work.
The last time I tried, I put a microphone on a table and talked into it and had no clear objectives or knowledge of where people are who actually need voice over services. I'm not entirely sure what I thought was going to happen, but I was still disappointed when nothing did.
I have put more preparation in this time. I have a good contact list through a verified website and there are leads coming in every day. So the business is out there. I just have to audition.
In order to audition and have any kind of a chance, I needed to build something like a studio. I say something like a studio, because we don't have unlimited space or funds. I needed to work with what I had.
It's a closet. I'm set up in the closet. I like to call it my studio to make me feel less silly, but so far, it hasn't worked. I know I am basically talking to myself, in a closet. I can't make it not silly.
Still, I have some decent hardware, a good microphone and such, and I have soundproofed the closet to a reasonable extent. So even though it's a closet, I'm getting good audio out of it.
However, the awareness of the silliness of standing in a closet keeps creeping in and making my throat tighten up.
Last night was the first night that I had all the components in place to attempt an audition. Jenn was in the living room watching television. So she was maybe 10 feet from where I was, standing in the closet, attempting to talk to myself in my voice-over voice.
Self-consciousness overtook me. I stood there for about ten minutes, unable to say anything at all.
I stepped out of the closet and asked Jenn to please go upstairs. She asked me why and I explained the whole silliness thing.
She said that attempting to do the voice-over stuff in the closet was not silly at all, but standing in the closet and NOT attempting to do voice-over stuff was.
I conceded the point but asked her to please go upstairs anyway.
Later, I was upstairs with her setting up the printer. She had the Tori Spelling reality show on. On the show, Tori's husband was in a closet attempting to do voice-over work.
So at least I am in good company.

physical intimacy...

The scene I am doing in acting class took a turn last night. While the scene as I read it is just a conversation between two people, the teacher really feels there is a section that requires a show of physical love.
To clarify, I am not being asked to perform intercourse, not even simulated intercourse, nor to kiss the woman in my scene, nor to nuzzle her neck/ear area. The level of physical intimacy he is asking for is a genuine hug. Just a hug.
I am having a hard time with it.
I explained that I would be much more comfortable if we were punching each other in the face. I further explained that there are really only two people in my life who I feel comfortable with any level of close, human, touch. There is Jenn and there is my daughter. That's pretty much it. I'll hug my Dad once in a while, but I rarely have to worry about it as he lives in Florida. With him we're talking, maybe, 2 hugs a year. It's a little much.
As the class progressed, my comfort did not. We did an exercise where the woman would stand in the middle of the stage with me circling her. I was to attempt to pick up her energy to realize when she was giving me permission to move closer and to pick up when she was no longer comfortable and I should move away.
I think I made it within 4 feet of her at one point.
The other women in the class were laughing at how cute it was that I was uncomfortable. One of them said, "You wait. By the time we finish this course, you will be hugging everyone."
I stared at her for a little while. Then she said, "Uh... no. Maybe not."

dog stuff...

I took my dog with me to Dunkin' Donuts this morning. I know, two days, two D/D posts. Forgive me.
I ordered me a large iced coffee and the largest tea they have for Jenn. The largest tea they have is titled the Great One. I asked for the Big One, which has a different connotation.
When I returned to the building, another guy who lives in the building was returning with his dog.
I have a Dear Chihuahua, he, Ben, has a miniature Pincer. He has his dog on a pink, flowered leash. I'm not kidding.
We had to walk by a couple of work dudes on the way in. Apparently, although we had already had this conversation, Ben thought it was prudent to ask me again, as we both walked our little dogs into the building together, how my wedding to Jenn went. He didn't quite ask how I enjoy being heterosexual, like him, but it was close.
Once we were safely in the building we made a pact to never walk our dogs together again.
I told him he really needed to do something about his leash. He agreed.

dunkin' donuts stuff...

Someone asked me this morning if I knew of the location of a Dunkin' Donuts around where our office is located.
I gave him the following directions.
Go to a street.
Drive. Doesn't matter which direction you choose.
Within 5 minutes you will find one.

When I was getting my iced coffee this morning, the person in line in front of me asked for a cinnamon/raisin bagel. He wanted it toasted. Twice.
The person behind the counter was confused. Generally when people behind counters are confused, I want to kick them in the knee, but this time, I was with her.
She asked, "You want it toasted extra dark?"
"No." he said. "I want it toasted medium, but I want it run through the toaster twice."
Then he turned and looked at me with an eye-rolling look that said, wow, this woman is a dope.
When I didn't agree with him, he turned back and asked for unsweetened jelly and a packet of sugar to put on the jelly.

welcome to post 100...

I know some of the posts don't actually count. I don't care. 100 posts. Yay for me!

Post 100 will be about my current scene study class.
Class last night was interesting. We did some warm up games that involved active listening and improvisation as well as utilizing honest reactions.
In the first game, two people sit facing each other. One person starts with an observational comment about the other. The other person must echo the comment back, only changing the person.
For example, person 1 says, "You have blue eyes." Person 2 responds, "I have blue eyes." Then person 1 says again, "You have blue eyes." This goes back and forth until a change naturally occurs. Someone's inflection changes and the comment goes from observational to confrontational, or someone changes bodily positions. It's a bit like watching paint dry on growing grass to start with, but if you hang with it and stay open, interesting things can happen.
I was paired with a woman who opened with, "You're bald." I had to echo back, "I'm bald."
I've pretty much embraced my own lack of hair, but hearing it back and forth 15 times or so started to make me a little angry. When it was my turn to open, I had to restrain myself from saying, "You're an old hag with pancake breasts and Emo Phillips' haircut."


The next game was a favorite of mine, because I cheat. In this game, one person is seated on a park bench. They like where they are sitting and are not in a hurry to leave. The second person enters the scene and attempts to make the first person stand up. They are not allowed to touch the first person, but can do anything else.
This is an exercise in honest reactions. The problem with the game is that we are all pretty competitive and don't want to be perceived as losing, so will sit for much longer than if these situations were happening in real life.
One woman sat near the person on the bench coughing and wiping her nose and sneezing and talking about her trip to China and what the other person thought the symptoms of SARS or the avian flu were. But the first person did not get off the bench.
Come on.
I have played before and I walked around the back of the bench making ka-plonk, ka-plonk, ka-plonk noises while miming the squeezing of some container. Then I mimed lighting a match and throwing it onto the bench.
I set the bench on fire with lighter fluid. That person got off the bench.
Last night, old 100 SuperBalls in a blender was on the bench. Now, 100 Balls tried an interesting tactic when he was trying to get someone off the bench. He asked the person if they liked hairy guys. The woman said she didn't care one way or the other.
He said, "I'm really hairy." and took off his shirt.
100 Balls is a skinny, blonde dude with blue eyes. I could never have guessed that he had a Ted Nugent wig for a back. Yikes. He was not able to get the woman off the bench. Again, I don't know if that was honest or not. I think she would have run from the bench.
In any case, he was on the bench when it was my turn. I again kinda cheated. I slowly got onto the bench, standing, staring down at him. I then slowly began to crouch lower and lower, just staring at him while he tried to say some funny lines.
Eventually, he called me a creep and ran from the bench. I win.
Then, when I was on the bench, the chick who I am acting in the scene with, walked up and asked me nicely if I would help her move a table.
Damn it. I jumped right up to help. Because I am an excellent nice guy and would do so naturally.
I HATE that.

teaching my daughter how to ride her bike...

I tried to teach my daughter how to ride her bike when she was 7. She is the kind of kid where, if something doesn't come to her, if something isn't easy immediately, she wants no part of it.
Riding a bicycle doesn't come immediately to most people and she had a lot of inner ear problems as a small child, so her balance was not what it needed to be. After an hour or so of difficult trying, she asked me kindly to shove the bike up my nose.
Now it's three years later and she still has training wheels on her bike.
The other 10 year olds aren't looking upon this with favor so she wants it resolved.
Over the course of the weekend just past, she and I resolved it. I am happy to report she can now ride with no wheels of training.
Working with her as hard as I did this weekend reminded me of how I was taught to ride a bike.
My Grandfather was the kind of guy who saw that I was going to have to start with a small bike and move progressively up to a larger bike. He knew this was going to happen and he figured, since I was going to get to an adult size bike eventually anyway, I might as well start with one.
Late spring of 1975. I was 7. He came home with a battleship-gray bicycle for me. I knew the gray that it was was battleship-gray because it was made out of an actual battleship. It had three-speeds and weighed 137 pounds. If I stood up on my tiptoes, I could almost touch the seat and there were no tubes in the wheels; they were solid rubber. Maybe they were solid rubber only most of the way through. Some of the wheel might have been cast iron. The ride was neither smooth nor safe-feeling.
I know because I rode it. It was my bike for a long time. Years.
I learned to ride it, like this...
My Grandfather and my Dad put me on this massive bike at the top of a grassy hill and pushed. It was either learn how to ride the bike, or die.
Later, when I had learned to ride the bike and was proficient at it, I almost did die.
A large puddle would freeze outside of my Grandparent's house. The bigger kids in the neighborhood, on their sleek BMX-y bikes would tear ass down the street and hit their breaks just as they got onto the ice, then sliiiiiiiiiide all the way across. It was pretty neat.
Me and the leaden monster wanted a turn. I went around the block a couple of times to build up the appropriate speed, targeted the ice, connected, hit my breaks and SLAM!! The wheels instantly went out from under my ass and the back of my head came down on the ice at MACH 7.
I was out. Cold. Gone. I guess one of the kids ran and got my Grandparents. I woke up in the bathtub, fully clothed. They were speaking soothingly to me and splashing my face with warm water. If the kids had just bolted and left me there, I might have been worse off.
But I'm no doctor.