I got one less problem...

This spring has been very busy. Sometimes I don't know how I do it. I think its sheer force of the universe that allows me to accomplish all I do. Or magic.

This audition season was sparse for me. I didn't book a performing gig for the summer or any other time for that matter. I think it's partly because I didn't attend as many auditions as I could have...or should have. I did get a callback for a role that I believe I'm right for. I didn't book it though. I think my acting may be a bit rusty at the moment. I'll put that on my list of things to do...

Thankfully I have many creative outlets to occupy my time, not to mention a demanding day job.

In March I won a grant to produce a concept CD for the musical I wrote with Jeneen Terrana (shameless Jeneen plug!). Our musical is called McGurk's Suicide Hall, a fictional account of actual events.  The grant money doesn't cover paying the artists for their time (or Jeneen and me either). That means the CD will only be used for promotional purposes, to submit to developmental festivals, production teams and theatres.

Jeneen started working on the music long after the book was finished. The grant helps the music catch up to where the book is in terms of development. I promised Jeneen not to make any more script changes until the CD was finished. I was having a bit of writer's withdrawal. However that was quickly cured when I joined The Playground Experiment.

PGE is a group of writers and actors who meet twice a month for three hours. Five playwrights are chosen to present fifteen minutes of a new work. As Mike Lesser the founder and organizer of the group says "the messy stuff. The stuff that might not make it into the final script".

Mission:

To create a safe, fun environment for Playwrights, Actors, Directors, Producers who are looking to build new relationships among like minded artists. We are an inclusive community of a diverse cross section of the New York theatre artists, creators and patrons. By using Actor/Playwright short work sessions and public readings our ultimate goal is to generate new works and new collaborations that have a life beyond The PlayGround.


There's a roster of over forty writers so getting chosen to have your work read takes time. But it does happen. As luck would have it the date for my stuff to be read was May 23. Final drafts of the fifteen minutes being presented are due the Friday before the reading. In my case this was Friday the 20th: a firm deadline to be ready to be viewed by the world. Okay maybe not the entire world...

At any rate I guess the universe decided that I needed more projects. On top of all of this a directing opportunity came along.

A guy I work at one of my day jobs with, Justin Yurio, runs a theatre company called Amios. It's an acronym that stands for Art and Music In Our Souls. Its mission is to "build community through art". Under the umbrella of Amios is a monthly presentation of six groups of six minute pieces. All are presented the first monday of every month after two weeks of writing, two weeks of rehearsing and two hours of tech. This mini festival of new works is called "Shotz".

I had been wanting to write for Shotz for the last year or so. I had talked to Justin, who is the Artistic Director about it. He thought it was a great idea and put my name on the list to receive the application. I applied and Justin's colleagues responded. I was told that even though I knew Justin and he had recommended me I had to supply samples of my work, videos and or scripts.

I was later told that a new policy was implemented. Because they had so many people wanting to write for Shotz, over 40, each new writer had to go through an apprenticeship with a current Shotz writer. He or she would write as if the piece was going to be presented and have it read at the table read with all the other pieces for that month's performance. Only the piece would not be performed.

So for May I applied as a director and viola I was in.

This all started happening in March. I had time to plan and conquer. I think I'm one of the last people on the planet to actually use a date book, as in a paper planner and an ink pen. So I got out my "wand" and my "spell book" to start making magic.

Everything was scheduled right down to when to do laundry, grocery shopping and what I was eating to exactly when I had to iron clothes for my day job. Things were humming along smoothly.

The breakdown started simply enough. One of the singers for the CD couldn't make the recording date. He was currently away on tour and then afterwards would go on to do a regional theatre season. He had one week between the two contracts, much of that time would be spent visiting his family.

Both day jobs started really picking up. More and more work was being offered. I couldn't refuse since the lean times were just around the corner. I currently cater, which runs on definite cycles. It's usually all or nothing. Right now it was all.

I get news from one of my nieces. She's getting married in July and has sent out the invitations. The wedding will take place in Minnesota.

Shotz gave me my cast and my writer. They needed me to figure out a rehearsal schedule based on everyone's availability, including the writer. Unfortunately one of the cast would not be able to make the tech rehearsal which was set by the Artistic Director.

I had a writing deadline for PGE looming in front of me.

So now I'm juggling my catering schedule with two companies, auditions, the schedules of 20 singers recording the concept CD, 4 actors and a writer's schedule for Shotz, my writing schedule and the set schedule of my niece's wedding in July.

Things were getting cray-cray!

Just keep your head down and keep working and keep waving that wand...

The singer on tour gives me the choice of one of two days to record. Jeneen, the composer, can't make it one day and I can't make it the other day. So I suck it up and schedule the recording session for the day Jeneen can make it. After all, her being an independent recording artist means this is her area of expertise. I know nothing about it. Me being there would be useless. Besides the day was listed as a priority date for work. That means I cannot cancel unless it's for a legitimate emergency.

Above and beyond all of the hoopla surrounding the recording dates is the fact that the Musical Director who was going to write the orchestrations disappears off the face of the earth before she even starts. So now I have to find someone to write music and teach music and get the music ready to record.

Prior to Shotz having their pre-rehearsal table read of all of the six minute pieces and the one "apprentice" piece, each of the writers sent out their first draft of their piece. The dramaturg/literary person then sends feedback. Shotz has their very own way of speaking to their creative people. In fact when I was brought on to direct, Justin sent our an email to all involved detailing what was to happen, including how to collaborate and address issues within a script. It was all very politically correct, non-confrontational, cyclical jargon.

When it came time for the table read I sat in a big circle with the other directors and writers and actors and administrators. We listened to each piece being read aloud. Afterward the "dramaturg" critiqued each piece, being very careful to use her "Shotz speak".

On the whole many of the pieces were okay. One was really good with amazing potential. But the piece that stood out the most was the apprentice piece. It was obviously written by someone with a high level of skill and command of ideas and language. The piece I was to direct still had the same issues it had in the first draft. The writer admitted to not knowing what he was writing about both in terms of story and in terms of objective. He even admitted to the piece "not being his best work".

Meanwhile I have to deal with my niece's impending wedding on July 16. My first thought was I would have to find something to wear. Then I realized I had to get there! So I added finding flights, hotel and rental cars on my already huge to do list. Also new to the list was the fact that the solo music for the guy on tour had to be finished in time to record on our new date May 5, a full three plus months earlier than planned.

Oh yeah, and I still need to write my new piece for PGE.

Just keep your head down and keep working and keep waving that wand...

With the help of Jeneen, we set out to find a composer to write accompaniment, not only for May 5 but for the entire piece. Our budget, while we are thankful to have it, is meager. A colleague of mine was having accompaniment written for his new musical. The writer was charging $100 per hour. I heard some of the stuff and it was amazing. I understand this is a high skill level, but that price was definitely not in our budget. We had to have music for 16 songs.

At this point catering is chugging along. I actually had to schedule one day off a week. Otherwise there was no rest or recuperation time. Or time to write. Yep still hadn't written a word for PGE yet.

Time was ticking and May 23 was coming. I needed to have fifteen minutes of new writing ready for The Playground Experiment. It sounds like it would be simple, but believe me it's not. I had to figure out where the story was going and then figure out how to get it there, only using the nine characters that had been set up. Did I happen to mention the show takes place in two huge scenes, Act I and Act II, where once a character is on stage he doesn't leave?

What was I thinking?

I kept my head down and kept working and kept waving.

The price of a flight to Minnesota dropped by almost $30. Who knew it was so expensive to fly there and why? Still no luck on hotel rooms. And I find out that my niece is marrying a Park Ranger. They're having the wedding in a national park. What the hell does one wear to a wedding in a forest?

Time to shop.

Speaking of which, Jeneen and I shopped for and found a composer to write arrangements...on line. He could have the pieces for May 5 done in plenty of time to get them to the singer before he comes into the city for one day to record. He can also do all the other pieces as well. He's fast, efficient and lovely to work with. Best of all he fits in our budget.

Shotz rehearsal starts. Time to put my director cap on and do director stuff.

And in the middle of this is my birthday. Happy birthday to me! YAY!!!

Then it all starts to really go to hell...

We can't find a studio with availability to record at on May 5. The only one we can find will charge what amounts to half of our budget set aside for studio rental. We're only looking to record 2 full songs and parts of three others in 3 hours. We would basically still have the entire album to record and no money to pay for it.

The female lead of the CD gets cast in a show coming to Broadway. She starts rehearsal before our set recording date in late August. She's not sure of her rehearsal schedule or whether she'll be available for us. This is awesome news for her and I can't be upset about it. First of all I have no time to be upset. I have too much to do. And secondly it's an amazing opportunity that cannot be turned down to record a concept CD for a show that has just started its long journey toward a Broadway production.

Jeneen realizes she double booked herself with the recording date in August and a family vacation.

The arranger needs time off to work on his own personal stuff.

The Shotz "writer" gives us three new drafts in 3 days. Half our rehearsal schedule is already done and we don't have a final script yet.

The price of a flight to Minnesota jumps back up to where it was when I started searching. And the hotels are not getting good reviews from prior guests, unless you think hookers, bugs and mold are good reviews.

I go shopping at a couple of stores for an outfit for the wedding. I find a huge sale but nothing that befits a forest wedding in July. Or nothing that fits me. My niece says it will be very humid cause it's by a lake. Oy vey.

Both day jobs want to use me for a myriad of days, but they're all the same days.

Oh my god, I need to find time to write my PGE script.

Adjustments have to be made. The head goes down and the wand comes out yet again.

Jeneen and I choose a new recording date for the female lead. We set it for July 11, a week before she starts rehearsal for Broadway. It's on a Monday so even if she books a short run contract of something she should be clear. Now we have to find a recording studio that has free time this late in the game.

Keep your head down and your wand out. Keep working.

We also change the date of the main recording session. We move it by a week. We lose the entire male ensemble.

Head down, wand out. Work.

At this point I've been all but consumed by my commitments. I need to schedule time to go shopping. The date for my play to be read at PGE is quickly approaching. Yet I've written nothing new. I need time to write. But my magic is not powerful enough to make more hours in the day. I resort to losing sleep and searching on line late at night for an outfit. In lieu of new writing I just edit the old pages of my script. At least I'm being productive and creative.

The Shotz "writer" has written a piece about on line dating. Meanwhile he's only dated two women, the second one he married. He has never done any kind of online dating...or even seen the apps. We spend valuable rehearsal time showing him what he's written about. He also continues to interrupt rehearsals with notes and thoughts and general musings. I ask him to please write down anything he wants to discuss and we'll talk about it after rehearsal has finished, privately (as in not in front of the actors).

Then one night he sends another new draft at 10pm. We have rehearsal the next day at 10am. I put everything else aside and stay up late to do my director homework. I have to be prepared for rehearsal. Then at the start of rehearsal he hands me ANOTHER NEW DRAFT. With this draft it's apparent that the writer is trying to direct the show through his stage directions.

I feel my power waning. My magical skills are not strong enough to combat all of this. So I summon reinforcements.

I call the artistic director of Shotz, my catering colleague Justin, and tell him the situation: the writer's lack of knowledge and expertise on the subject he's writing about and the fact that with every new draft the story gets more vague and obtuse. Justin agrees to stop by rehearsal. Let me just mention that Justin stops by one rehearsal for every piece in Shotz, so this is not something out of the ordinary.

At rehearsal I start blocking the show. I like to set down a quick skeleton of blocking first. Then I work on refining and tailoring it with the actors so that it feels organic. With Justin there, the "writer" starts to chime in with don't do this and don't do that. Meanwhile these are things that he has expressly written into the script or that we collectively have talked about. I tell him to take notes to discuss it later. Without missing a beat I go back to blocking the show.

Throughout the rest of rehearsal the "writer" and the "artistic director" sat two feet away from the actors whispering, about what I can only guess. Afterwards all three of us rode the subway back to Manhattan.

And all hell broke loose.

The person who dragged his pen across paper, as I will no longer refer to him as a "writer", went on a tirade. He had to put his foot down. His name would not be on this piece. He would not allow things in the show that he disapproved.

I tried to defend my position and give reasoning why those things were in the show, besides the fact that he wrote them in (because apparently that didn't justify it enough for him). Then he tells me "I don't care what path you go down [meaning line of thinking], you're wrong".

Meanwhile Justin is standing there. Listening. Not saying a word, not defending the company's principals or policies, not doing anything. So much for the "politically correct, non-confrontational, cyclical jargon" of Shotz.

I finally gave up trying to defend my position. I acquiesced and agreed to remove everything he found offensive from the show.

That night I get a message from one of the cast members who remembers that he can't attend one of the last rehearsals because he changed his work schedule. I had to contact everyone, get their availability, rearrange the rehearsal schedule and then contact them again with the new time line.

Down and out...

The next day the "artistic director", Justin, calls and we have a lengthy unpleasant discussion. He says there was tension during the rehearsal and that I wasn't collaborating. He watched the initial blocking rehearsal. Was I to ask the actors where they'd like to enter from? I just didn't understand.

In talking to him I finally realized what the problem was. We differ in what we believe a director does. I go for the traditional definition, while this company tends to think of their directors as glorified stage managers who do everything from scheduling rehearsals to finding space to rehearse but allow the actors and the writer to do whatever they want on stage.

What I found particularly telling about the company and the way they conduct themselves is how the "artistic director" handled things. He called me to "talk", when in reality he only called to release me from the project. And when did he do it? AFTER I had reconfigured the rehearsal schedule and contacted everyone about it.

I looked up for the first time in months. I looked around. I put my wand down. I took a deep breath.

Suddenly everything fell into place.

The arranger for the CD of McGurk's Suicide Hall, a fictional account of actual events decided he could do both his projects and our project. All of our deadlines would be honored, including having stuff done in time for July 11. In fact I just received music from him today.

There are singers who are willing to step in and help out on the recording should we need replacements.

The studio that Jeneen recorded one of her first CDs at, agreed to work with us on a short notice. The recording on May 5 went off without a hitch. Okay one hitch. I forgot to send one of the artists a copy of the music. He went in never having heard it before. Thank god for singers who are true musicians!

We are now confirmed for both of our new recording dates. Deposits are paid.

The price of a flight to Minnesota dropped by $50. I was given the tip to wait until a month before hand and book late night Tuesday/early morning Wednesday for the best prices. We shall see.

While shopping on line I came across some jackets I liked that were on sale. On top of the sale the company was offering an additional percentage off. I narrowed it down to two, one of which is so me and the other is so outside of my comfort zone. I had no idea which to get or what size to get so I got both in a size smaller than I had worn last year. They both fit and they both look great. Together they cost less than the price of one jacket so I kept them both.

At my day jobs I was working 50 hours a week, sometimes a little more sometimes a little less. I was doing so much that one colleague commented "I had no idea you were so industrious". But working so much does have its perks. As I've said in other blog posts, you never know who or what will be at a catering gig. This go 'round I had the pleasure of seeing Ariana Grande perform live. And yes she is just as sweet and pretty in person and she does indeed sing that high. Live.

In my quest to elevate the dreaded feeling of inadequacy because of not having a performing gig, I threw myself at every creative endeavor. I kept my head down. I kept working. I kept trying to recreate the magic of being on stage. What I didn't realize was that by doing this I was not paying attention to the warning signs that I was not in the company of professionals. In fact I ended up being with people I shouldn't be associated with at all, artistically speaking.

I was busy and that's all that mattered.

In dealing with AMIOS Theatre Company, "Shotz" and Justin Yurio, I realized they have a need to control Art. But you can't control it or force it. The Performing Arts is a living and breathing thing. The magic comes from it being alive and free.

The company sits in judgment of all that passes in front of them, from the unnecessary full company table read of every piece to be presented, to visiting rehearsal to their idea of how new theatrical works get put on their feet. Regardless of talent or accomplishment, if they deem a piece or person worthy by being edgy or creative or provocative then it's worthy of being part of their world. Otherwise it's a no go. And edgy for them is people miming being a tree and a bird during a picnic for no reason except they want it.

In reality their world is on par with graduate school and the work that's done there. There is nothing wrong with this work, but it belongs to a specific time in an actor's career. It has a specific purpose.

I was not furthering my career working with Shotz. I was not being paid. I was not having fun. At least one of those three things needs to occur to make it worth my time. In fact the only thing that was happening was me being judged by standards I no longer hold in regard. And none of the people associated with "Shotz" have the credentials or resumes to be doing so.

You know what? I'm wrong. What "Shotz" does isn't like grad school work. It's like the work I did when I was in Mrs. Clark's third grade elementary school play.

I apologize to all the hard working people in reputable grad programs.

Creating for the sake of creating is akin to masturbation. It's done for nobody but yourself. An artist has to seek out people, places and things that inspire creation not force it. And there is no limit to where that can come from. But it definitely doesn't come from being judged by posers working in a black box theatre on the lower East side.

Pay attention to what feeds your soul instead of what feeds your ego.

Finally free of undue stress, my creative writing juices started flowing. I was able to finish a new section of my play. It was performed on May 23 by a talented cast at the 26th Playground Experiment. It was well received.

With this I realized PGE provided me with exactly what I needed both artistically and spiritually.

The Playground Experiment provides a supportive, loving environment. It's fun. All are welcome. All are allowed to present their work. All are professional. All are free from judgement. Constructive criticism is given if asked for. This is somewhere artists should want to be. It lifts you up, not to put you on a pedestal, but to allow you to feel empowered and valued.

This is what Artists should aspire to be like.

So now, instead of keeping my nose to the grind stone, buckling under the pressure of trying to make magic, I'm free.

I've got my...

"...Head in the clouds...no weight on my shoulders."

Red and yellow and scarlet and black and...

There is so much going on right now. I have started three different blog posts about three different subjects. I just can't seem to decide. So while I take a moment to organize my thoughts, I thought I'd take a moment to organize past posts into indexes. I had done this for year one:

Tell me more tell me more


And the first half of year two

C-o-o-l...r-i-d-e-r.


But I never finished. So in order to move on I have to finish what I started...oh god, I think I just hit upon a new blog subject...

Anyway, here is the second half of the second year's blog posts indexed:

No more curses you cant undo
...help with agents

Every love affair went wrong
...reinvention and relevance

The world in which you dwells no paradise
...dealing with emotional aspect of social media

Threat of hell
...importance of doing homework

You will get what you are due
...patience

Logs on fire
...if you want it work for it


And year three:

I feel the snow I feel the cold
...validation

I think I'd better think it out again
...the high cost of pay to play

A very strange reaction
...warming up

Another chance to disapprove another
...actual love and support

In rich mans world
...how much does acting cost

Whose head is crowned with flames
...the ten commandments of theatre

Slinging hash feeling so rejected
...unpredictability

Without a song or dance what are we
...why art is important

There's a lot I am not certain of
...surviving the holidays


Enjoy the previous posts.

If you have questions about theatre, schooling, auditioning or living in the Big City, ask me. I'll tell you what I know. At the very least you'll get honest answers to some burning questions. And at the very best it could make you...

"...Quite the smoothest person in the district..."

History is happening in Manhattan...

We're preempting the blog written for March to bring you this breaking news...

When I became eligible for Actor’s Equity I was really excited. First because the chances of me actually being seen at an equity call greatly increased. Secondly at the bottom of Equity casting notices were the words “Performers of all ethnic and racial backgrounds are encouraged to attend”. I thought, finally I would be seriously considered for roles that were right for my particular talent regardless of the fact that I was an “ethnic” performer. I went to every audition my day job allowed me to go to.

So young. So bright and shiny.

Last October I had the honor of having my first writing project, a full length musical, picked to be in a new works festival here in New York City. McGurk’s Suicide Hall, a fictional account of actual events was made with the help of many people including my composer Jeneen Terrana, an independent internationally known recording artist. We had to take care of many of the aspects of putting the show on its feet, including casting.

Before October I had had two table readings of the show. I thought it an excellent idea to invite some of those people to participate in the new works festival production. Since several of the readers were Equity, we had to provide an Equity contract in order for them to be in the show. Doing so doubled the production budget. I was determined to “reward”, if you will, those people who were so loving to lend their time and talents in developing the piece.

Reward is in quotation marks because the contract was only on a staged reading level, which pays a small stipend and transportation.

Since it was going to be an Equity contract, I decided to offer roles to other union friends and colleagues to fill out the cast. Because of who I am and my beliefs, I had made the cast completely interracial. Sometimes there was a reason for it, sometimes there wasn’t. As the writer I super imposed the racial landscape of New York City, where the show is set, on to the production. As the writer I am Lord God High Creator of the Universe and my word is law.

So shall it be written, so shall it be done.

In pursuing my multi-ethnic cast I invited my colleague Bill to be in the show. Although I only knew him from my day job, I had seen his work on YouTube and his website. He seemed smart intelligent and talented. He was perfect for one of the ensemble members who had both ethnic and non-ethnic featured moments in the piece, the biggest being a non-ethnic role with a song.

Bill happily agreed to be in the production, until three weeks before hand. Suddenly he had a plethora of obligations that wouldn’t allow him to be involved. I would later learn that these were just excuses. (More on that in another blog). The role specifically written for an ethnic actor was now available. It was added to the list of what we were auditioning for.

The audition notice came out two weeks before rehearsals were to begin. We posted the roles available and who (ethnically speaking) we were looking to fill those roles. There was a good response, including ethnic candidates for most roles, even those not specifically suggesting ethnicity. However when the audition day came around no ethnic men showed up. Not one of the ethnic guys given appointments bothered to come to the audition. (I single out the ethnic guys because that’s who we’re talking about right now. There were plenty of non-ethnic people who didn’t bother to show up as well).

Fortunately for us we got the talent needed to put up the show.

Because of the contract we had, we were only allotted 10 rehearsal hours. Anything over that would double the actor’s salary, which we couldn’t afford. Once rehearsals started those hours flew by. Three hours for music, three for staging and four for tech rehearsal.

It wasn’t until the tech rehearsal that an over site was pointed out. The role offered to Bill, designed for a specific ethnicity with dialogue written in an ethnic voice, was cast with a non-ethnic man. However it was too late. At that point we had no choice but to just barrel through using the guy who was cast. It was offensive but there was no time for rewrites or cuts. I prayed to the Theatre Gods that no one at this level would notice or care.

More and more often some in the performing arts community are up in arms about general casting policies. They state that in casting roles the “default” is “white” especially when there is no discernable ethnicity written.  This default and lack of inclusion and opportunity had Hollywood names boycotting the Oscars this year.  Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire is under fire for the lack of Hispanics performers in their production of Evita. 

Whenever a theatre or production company is called out on the issue, there is a standard answer. “There were no qualified ethnic actors who attended the audition”. And at times the retort is worse and more unbelievable. “There were no ethnic actors at all who auditioned”.

Based on my small casting experiences I would have to believe in a majority of the cases that is indeed the truth. There I was an ethnic writer/director/performer, who included a wide range of ethnicities in his writing, actively searching for ethnic actors to employ. The result was I wasn’t able to fully cast the show as it was written. I know this was partially due to the type of contract that was being offered and the short length of work with no health or pension benefits. But that’s only for now. What happens when the show continues on? Starts getting better and better contracts? Will ethnic actors suddenly appear?

I also know the lack of response is partially due to the fact that the printed encouragement given to ethnic actors is seen as legal lip service to avoid court battles over discrimination. In fact at this very moment the Broadway mega-hit Hamilton is potentially being sued because of the lack of inclusive language in their audition notices. Although for this show it’s in reverse; lack of inclusion of white actors.

Ethnic actors know what this type of inclusive language is: hollow promises. So ethnic actors tend to shy away from auditioning for non-ethnic shows. Why show up to an audition if you are not going to be genuinely considered? Which is a conundrum because ethnic actors want to be genuinely considered, but can’t sometimes because they don’t show up.

Fortunately at the performance of “McGurk’s”, a director and personal friend of mine noticed my lack of inclusion. And he called me out on it. In his review of the staged reading he said:

It was offensive to have a non-ethnic person play a stereotype of an ethnicity. Given what I know about your stance on casting policies that shouldn’t have happened. If you can’t find the proper ethnicity, change the part or cut it.

He wasn’t being nasty about it. He was right. He was 100% right. And it made me happy.

The director, a former performer, is the default musical theatre casting choice: tall, handsome, fit and blonde. He being talented is just the icing on the cake. He noticed a huge issue in the casting of a role so much so he had to say something about it. What that means to me is that he’d been actively listening to my diatribes on casting policies. My ranting and raving impacted him. I choose to believe this up and coming director, who now has several pieces doing well in the festival circuits, has altered his thinking about his own casting policies, because of his association with me and discussions we've had on the subject.

I’m constantly involved in a myriad of conversations in person and on social media regarding casting issues. There are vast majorities of people, both ethnic and non, who have recognized the antiquated casting practices that are still in use today. These advocates are starting dialogues, arguments and legal proceedings over who is cast and why. Friendships have been lost and bonds formed because of it. 

In essence battle lines are being drawn.

However waging a war where one side doesn’t show up to the daily skirmishes and struggles is pointless. The other side wins. In our case, in the Performing Arts, the daily skirmishes are auditions. That’s where we need to fight for the right to fly our colors (Pun intended? I don’t know).

“Performers of all ethnic and racial backgrounds are encouraged to attend”. 

So attend.

If your talent is right for the show go to the audition. Be mindful of who is being cast but be present at the audition regardless of it. Is it disheartening at times? Yes. Is it defeatist at times? Sure. Is it utterly pointless at times? Hell yeah. But the people behind the tables and at their computers and writing the checks need to know that there is a cornucopia of marginalized actors out there of all types, shapes, sizes, ethnicities, hues and sexual identities who are talented and wanting to work.

And these actors can tell the story just as well as the “default” choices.

Look at Hamilton...

“...You want a revolution? I want a revelation.”

It's a waste of time. There's no use trying

It’s that time of year where time management skills are a requirement. I’m trying to do everything all at once: auditions both going to and scheduling them, day job, lessons, classes, hangout with friends and still have time for me. If I do too much of any one thing not everything gets done. Needless to say it’s a balancing act of gigantic proportions. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.

There was an audition for a show I think I’m right for. It calls for quirky actors who can sing and have fun. A friend of mine had gotten an appointment for the show. Unfortunately through a timing mishap I missed the submission deadline. When we were comparing what auditions we had for the week (it’s less daunting and stressful if you go with friends) she mentioned her appointment for the quirky show.

I had forgotten all about the show. I’ve only auditioned for it once previously. Unfortunately I sang right after a guy who had done the show before who was also singing from the show. I was over looked when it came to casting that production. So it wasn’t a big deal to have missed this new audition for that same show. My ego was a bit bruised so I let it slide.

Besides it was an open call and open calls can be nightmares.

Anyway my friend told me that the company would take walk-ins between appointments. She suggested that I should go and essentially be an alternate. That means sitting around and waiting until the people behind the table have a lull in auditionees and can see other random people who don’t have appointments. Unfortunately time was not my friend that day. I had to go all the way to the other side of lower Manhattan to be at my day job at 4pm. The audition didn’t even start until noon.

So when the day came I got up, warmed up, and sang through some stuff. I packed two bags: one for the audition and one for my day job. Combined there was just too much stuff to carry. I would have to run home after the audition to switch bags before heading out to work.

I went to the audition around two o’clock and signed up on the alternate list. I waited around for about an hour or so. I was called to go in. Perfect. Until the people behind the table needed to take a break right before my group went in. I actually got in to sing at about 3:15. I said hello to my friend who had come in for her audition time, ran home switched bags and went to work.

I was late to my day job. I saw a guy I know, Tanner. He asked if I had gone to an audition.

Me: I did. I’m surprised I didn’t see you there.

Tanner: I didn’t know there was an audition for that show. I must have missed it on the Equity website.

(*Click the dark colored text to be taken to that site)

Actors Equity Casting Call

Me: It wasn’t on that website. It was on another.

Turns out Tanner didn’t know some of the other sites that listed auditions. We chatted about finding auditions and submitting for projects. Some of the sites are free while others you have to pay for. It depends on the sites:

Backstage

the online home for the trade paper that lists auditions both union and non-union, teachers, classes and informative articles.

Playbill.com

lists not only auditions but also non-performing job opportunities. Its main function though is to chronicle the Performing arts news for major cities around the country, including links to buying tickets to Broadway shows.

Broadway World

another audition source which is also filled with entertainment news and videos

And 

Actors Access

a website dedicated to allowing performers to submit themselves to projects looking for people. The projects can range from Broadway shows to motion pictures to student films, staged readings, voice overs and commercials.

When this site in particular came up, Tanner commented that there is never anything right for his type so he doesn't submit..

Tanner: I’m blonde they’re always looking for dark haired people to play the villain.

Me: Okay...

Tanner: I’m too thin.

Me: Okay...

Tanner: And I’m way too gay.

Me: Well that one you can use your craft to do something about. It’s called acting.

Tanner: Anyways I don’t subscribe to that site so I have to pay for each submission. It’s just not worth it for me.

I’m not sure what else he said after that. The fact that he said he couldn’t get work because he was blonde had finally sunk in. And thin. And gay. He’s the archetype for musical theatre. And guess what? He does musical theatre. That’s his forte.

WTH?

I couldn’t believe he actually said those things out loud. I let it go and went on my way.

A couple days later Tanner and I were talking about the Business again. And this time I couldn’t let it go. I told him he was doing something wrong if he couldn’t get cast. He’s young looking, blonde and thin, with a tenor voice. He is what gets cast. All the time. One only has to open their eyes to see it.

February is the Oscar's month. There is a whole ruckus swirling about the awards because of casting policies and overlooking certain types of people in favor of Tanner's type (not necessarily skinny and gay, but white).

Lack of diversity in Hollywood

It’s why America has things like Asian/Pacific American Heritage Month and Black History Month which we’re in right now. There is not only a lack of diversity but a lack of knowledge and a lack of inclusion.

But I digress...

I told Tanner he needs to find out what casting directors like and don’t like at auditions. I gave him a quick rundown of some of the things I know about some individual casting directors. Things like there is one person behind the table that if you don’t dress nice for the audition they will not call you back. Another won’t hire you if you sigh while singing. There are music directors who will throw your headshot away if when asked to sing 16 bars, you sing more than 16 bars. And so forth.

Tanner: Well how do you find those things out?

Me: You take classes from them.

Tanner: Well I took a class from a casting director.

Me: I know and she told you that you were right for an upcoming Broadway show, even told you what part. Did you learn that character’s stuff?

Tanner: I mean I worked on it a few times, but the show got cancelled.

Me: It could come around again. But you still don’t know the stuff do you?

Tanner: When they announce the audition I’ll work on the stuff for like a month before hand.

Me: Then it’s too late. You yourself said you’re not the kind of performer who gets comfortable singing new stuff quickly.

Tanner: I feel it’s not really right to sing from the show if you’re auditioning for that show anyway. I need to find other stuff like it.

Me: I gave you several song suggestions that fit the bill.

After a bit more the conversation then looped back...

Tanner: Well I don’t see the point in taking classes. I never see the casting directors at auditions so they’ll never get to know me.

Me: You have to get in front of them on a regular basis.

Tanner: They always send the associates and assistants.

Me: If they’re associates now they may be the ones casting that show that you’re right for, the one that got cancelled, in the next few years.

Tanner: If you know everything then why aren’t you getting cast?

Me: I don’t know everything. But I’ve been around longer than you, so I know more than you.

Sometimes I don't know why I talk to him. Tanner is full of excuses. He doesn’t have the time, or the money to do anything. He waits until something is going to happen and then he starts to prepare instead of being prepared in case it should happen. He had a callback for Book of Mormon on Broadway. I think he took one tap class before hand.

But honestly don’t we all have excuses?

I know what I should be doing but I let other things take my attention and divert me from them. Sometimes it just comes down to scheduling my life differently and adjusting my priorities. This is something I realize and I’m working on it. I’ve been so much better in getting to dance classes and auditioning and preparing new audition material well in advance of the need for that material.

My situation is different than Tanner’s though. I’m not blonde or young or thin. I’m the opposite of all that. I’m a mature-ish, stocky, ethnic guy. Every other audition I go to is a struggle to convince the people behind the table to hire me for a role that isn't usually cast with some like me. I have to work twice as hard to get people to notice what I bring to the table other than a non-white face. And sometimes when opportunities are there they are taken away:

(*Click on the picture to enlarge)

A role created on Broadway by a person of color is no longer needed to be a person of color. Try doing that in reverse and see what happens. For example cast the character “Radames” from the musical Aida with an ethnic actor. He was originally played on Broadway by Adam Pascal, a blonde non-ethnic guy. The character is the captain of the Egyptian Army. Last time I looked Egypt was in Africa. Just saying.

No roles for blondes...

(*Warning: adult language)

How is this still a thing? 

My friend Rhett and I went to see a show on Broadway. It was a really good show. So good in fact that all juke box musicals should be done like this. During the intermission I made an observation about the casting:

Me: There isn’t one blonde in the entire cast.

Rhett: I know right.

Me: It’s kind of weird ‘because there is usually a blonde. And if there isn’t one naturally they will wig someone to be blonde, like the lead woman in Honeymoon in Vegas.

Rhett: And it did not look good at all. She didn’t have the right coloring to be a blonde.

Stop making excuses. This industry is stacked against you unless you are what is considered the epitome of beauty. But there is only one Chris Evans, one Angelina Jolie. Everyone else has something going against their success in the performing arts. You’re too tall, too short, too thin, too fat, too white, too black, too...too...too...

Viola Davis interview

“A closed mouth doesn’t get fed”

What does that mean?

My friend who told me about the quirky play audition left theatre because she wasn’t getting jobs. She was too [fill in the blank] to get hired. She got tired of not being heard and taken seriously. So she became an independent recording artist. She now tours around the U. S. and Europe performing and selling her Cd's. She’s built a career for herself.

She’s now circled right back around to theatre. She’s hitting the pavement and auditioning again. And guess what? She’s getting hired. People want to work with her. She shifted her focus, gained confidence and now has a new outlook on the situation. She’s in control.

Rhett is always busy doing something. He’s auditioning or acting or singing or directing or teaching. And when he’s not doing all of that he has a one man show that’s available for bookings. I’ve seen him play the character. He’s brilliant.

So stop wasting time and energy complaining. Every excuse is real and valid. And every excuse will stop you.

Tanner truly believes he can’t get hired because he’s blonde and thin and too gay acting. There are things he can do to get him hired, like enrolling in an acting class. He can join a gym for $20 a month.  If he truly doesn’t have the disposable income, then a simpler less costly solution is in order: dyeing his hair.

If the industry isn’t providing the outlet for you and your talent because you’re too [fill in the blank] then change the [blank] or better yet, make one. Make an outlet for yourself. Write a play. Compose music. And if those tools aren’t in your tool box, commission someone to write a role or play or song specifically for you. Start doing improv. Start doing stand-up comedy. Find a slightly new direction for your passion like Rhett or my recording artist friend. Take control of your life and your art. It's not easy but it can be done

The Broadway show Rhett and I went to see was about the life and struggles of an artist who wasn't given a fair chance to explore the full range of her creativity. She was pigeon holed because of who she was born as and deemed only to appeal to people who were born the same. She worked tirelessly to make the industry look at who she is as an artist instead of who she is genetically. She was and is wildly successful. I mean come on, there's a Broadway show about her freaking life!

So if the opportunities aren't there and success is not happening for you...

"...Get on your feet. Get up and make it happen".

I'm gonna get there at any price...

A working actor is someone who is actively pursuing a career in Theatre, Film and or Television. Quite simply a working actor is one who is auditioning. Too often being a working actor is confused with being an employed actor. While it's true that both have a job to do, one has a contract to perform, the other is interviewing to perform. The only job an actor is guaranteed is that of auditioning.

When you’re young (either in body or experience) auditioning takes little more than showing up and having appropriate material, and sometimes not even that. But as you become more successful, the audition landscape starts to change. No longer is it enough to just be there and strut your stuff. It soon becomes apparent that show business is a Business first and foremost. And like any business there are things one has to do to get ahead. In the Performing Arts those things include classes, lessons and seminars.

Over the years I have taken hundreds upon hundreds of them. It’s quite possible that the numbers could easily go into the thousands.  The vast majority I’ve had to pay for, some with money and some with part of my soul being ripped to shreds. It’s a crap shoot. But in the end everything you learn in class is right and all classes contain information that can make an actor a star.

Some of what is given out is practical everyday common sense knowledge.

Years ago I attended an introductory seminar with a prominent West Coast voice teacher, an “instructor to the stars”. I was looking for someone to help me break into my higher register. At the time hitting an F was as far as I could stretch my voice. If the planets were aligned I could hit a G, but the planets don’t align for eight shows a week so that wasn’t really usable.

The seminar was structured like most are. There was an introduction where we learned about the teacher and his technique. That was followed by a question and answer period, then a practicum. As usual, in the Q & A someone asked a question that didn't really need to be answered aloud:

Woman: Professor, I love cheese but it gives me phlegm after I eat it and then I have trouble singing. What should I do?

Professor: If you want to be a singer don’t eat cheese. Decide which is more important to you: singing or cheese. And go from there.

The challenge in taking classes is that while all the information is right, it may not necessarily be right for every actor and not every actor will become a star. How an actor determines which information he or she can use to further his or her career is simple: Trial and error.

An actor has to be aware of what their instrument needs to perform at its peak. In classes and seminars you take in information. Afterwards you determine if it applies to you. Try it out. See how it feels, if it makes sense. After a couple tries, if it doesn’t work for you let it go. If it does work you’ve gotten twice your money’s worth out of the class.

If you’re lucky the advice comes for free from someone who’s been taking classes on the regular. Someone like me and my blog. The really fortunate performers who are teeming with potential are taken aside at auditions by the people behind the tables and are given some career changing information.

I was casting a show a couple years ago when a guy came in. He was a nice looking guy with a pleasant personality. But he was young, as in inexperienced. He was just graduating from university. The guy had a nice enough voice but something wasn’t connecting. I wasn’t sure if it was the material or what. He was singing “All Through the Night” from Anything Goes. So I did what I do with most actors who I see potential in. I tried to make it materialize.

We chatted a bit. I made a couple of adjustments. His audition was moderately better but it just wasn’t getting to where I knew it could be. The guy was uber talented I was sure of it. But for some reason it wasn’t coming across. Finally I told him something I had heard and seen in classes but had never bothered to put into practice myself. I told him to just stand there and sing. Don’t move, don’t gesture, don’t do anything. Look straight ahead and sing like you mean it.

When he was done everyone in the room was silent for a moment. There it was. The connection, the gorgeous voice and amazing presence. That talent I knew was in there came bursting through. I advised him that should he sing this song ever again he should do what he just did.

I auditioned for a production of 42^nd Street. I was always an okay tapper. The choreographer for the show decided to have each person dance individually while everyone watched and listened. It was the most terrifying thing I had done to date. And it showed. Naturally I got cut. But afterwards the choreographer pulled me aside. He told me that I was the right type for the show and that I should take more lessons.

If someone takes the time to pass on information to you, it bears investigation.

When an actor starts aging, chronologically or experientially he or she can begin to loose malleability, the elasticity to make changes and take adjustments.  I believe along with contentment, this causes the metaphorical death of a performer. That’s what classes and seminars and lessons are for: to breathe new life into a career. And it works, provided the actor attempts to apply what was taught and heed the advice given.

These days all too often actors use classes for one thing, to network. Don’t get me wrong, networking is very important. At one time in show Business it used to be who you knew that could get you ahead, give you an advantage over the competition. These days it’s who knows you that will aid in your career.

Who has worked with you?

Who wants to work with you?

Which casting directors, agents, directors, choreographers know you by name only?

The way that stuff happens is if you’re in front of them day after day after day. Unfortunately not every person behind a table has auditions every day. And even if they do, it’s the truly blessed actor who can go to every single one. And by blessed I mean independently wealthy. For those of us who aren’t, we rely not only on classes and free seminars, but on the “pay to play” scenario.

“Pay to play” is where a performer goes to a seminar with someone who is regularly behind the table to learn what that person likes and doesn’t like. It’s a chance to meet casting directors and agents and learn how he or she operates. That’s the “play”. The “pay” part is literally what the word means. You buy a seat in the seminar, which at times attendance can be capped at ten people.

There are some unscrupulous behind the table regulars who have no intention of getting to know new actors. They give no valuable information to the actor attending their seminars. Those people are there simply to take your hard earned money. But fear not. Even these classes have their value. What better time to try out a new monologue or song than a place where the stakes are incredibly low, the people behind the table aren’t looking for anyone and don't care, and you expect nothing in return from them?

Fortunately at the 42^nd Street audition the choreographer was looking for people. However my chances being cast in this production were zero. But the potential to be cast was there and the choreographer let me know it. He didn’t have to. In fact in doing so it cost him valuable time away from the audition and finding a cast for his show. The advice he gave to take more tap classes cost me nothing. So I decided to investigate. I mean I was already doing my job being a working actor by attending auditions. Anything else was a cherry on top of the sundae.

I began studying tap with the teacher the choreographer recommended and got pretty good. Later I auditioned and was hired to do tap shows at a two prestigious theatres with a roster of known talent. At one point in one of the rehearsals we had to tap individually to make sure we were getting the sounds correct. Taping by myself was no longer a problem. I nailed it. So much so that the other dancers commented on how clean, clear and precise my sounds were.

I don’t have a problem with eating cheese before singing. So the direct information the west coast voice Professor gave wasn’t really for me. However, with that information in the back of my mind, I realized that I did have a problem singing after eating certain other foods. So now I just don’t eat those foods when I need to sing.

I decided to study with the cheese professor, even after he humiliated my colleague Louise in front of the entire seminar. His methods, while unconventional, did me no physical harm and they worked. He helped me get a consistent G and a semi-consistent A flat. Almost two whole notes were added to my range because of taking a free seminar and then paying to study with the teacher.

Those lessons helped me book my first show in Germany, Miss Saigon. The lowest high note for men in that score is a G. If you don't have a solid G you ain't doing the show! I may have paid for the voice lessons but the financial return on the investment was gigantic. Not to mention the opportunity to live and work abroad for five years.

I followed through and came out the better for it.

Not only did I offer advice to that talented young guy singing “All Through the Night”, I actually hired him. He was someone with whom I could work and who would work to make the show great. Unfortunately the rehearsal schedule conflicted with school so he couldn’t take the job. But more important than getting the job, he got information that could potentially change the trajectory of his career, should he choose to use it.

Recently I had an audition for a Broadway show. It was the first one back after the holidays. For me that first one is always the hardest one to do. I’ve had several weeks off from working, either my day job or a performing contract. I’ve been eating and drinking and enjoying the festivities. When it’s time to rejoin the throngs of working actors it gets to be a little intimidating. So I did what I know to do, what I’ve been taught to do: homework.

I did all my prep work. Gave myself voice lessons. Worked on lyrics. Worked on acting. I reintroduced myself to my audition book of music. I re-tooled my resume and was ready to go.

When I looked at the casting notice again, I saw that the casting director wasn’t the one I expected. So I had to rethink my entire audition.

You see, based on seminars and classes and lessons, I know what some casting directors are looking for. I keep a list. I call it “Casting Directors casting directives”. In it I write what I know certain people behind the table are looking for in terms of style, or dress or audition material or whatever.

So I altered my preparation. I had to embrace something I watched others do and something I had taught people to do but never really applied to myself. I wasn’t aware of it but in this respect I was aging, experientially. I wasn’t malleable. I wasn’t practicing something I was preaching. But I changed that.

I confidently walked into the audition room. I gave the music to the accompanist. I explained what I needed then walked to the center of the room. Other than breathing and physically making sounds, that was the last time I moved. I stood there, still. No gestures, no side looks, no weight shifts, nothing.

It was just me and the music. 

It was by far the most amazing audition I have ever had. The notes were easy and clear. The lyrics came as if they were being thought up in the moment and they were all correct. The intensity and meaning were both succinct and poignant. I walked out of the room and singers waiting in line to go in commented on how wonderful what they heard was. Even the monitor told me how good she thought my audition was. It was the same thing that happened with the guy who sang "All Through the Night" for me years ago.

Whether I get a call back or a contract remains in question. That’s based completely upon subjective opinion. It’s an aspect of the Business I cannot control, nor can you. What you can control however is showing up and giving the people behind the table a viable casting option.

As working actors we may have individual goals, but we all have to find a way to make those personal goals a reality. We need to find a way to reach our own personal performing Nirvana.

The one key to getting what you professionally desire, no matter if you want to join the ranks of EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony) winners or just want to be in the chorus of your community’s summer musical, is knowledge; knowledge from classes, seminars, lessons and yes, even auditions.

Find it. 

Apply it. 

Then you’ll have the tools to

“...build a stair way to paradise...”

There's a lot I am not certain of...

It’s the most wonderful time of the year...if you’re a doctor or lawyer or banker. For us artists this time of year can be daunting.

If you’re in school, presumably for the performing arts, most probably you’re home for the holidays. For me coming home from university meant having to hear my dad lament about me wasting time and money studying to be an actor. Then the family would jump in with their two cents.

If you’re out on a contract, most likely there’ll be some sort of holiday promotion or benefit you’ll be a part of. During the season it was always about which charity we were going to do work for. Or better yet we had to squeeze in rehearsals and then promotion work in an already heightened show schedule.

If you’re a working actor in New York, or L.A. or Chicago or wherever you’re pursuing a career, it means your day job is probably taking all of your time. Maybe it doesn’t even afford you the holiday off. My day job during the holidays does take the majority of my time. I cater waiter, which means the more holiday parties affluent people throw, the more work I have. That translates to more money in my pocket. That makes for a happy new year.

No matter what the case is, with the holiday season comes parties, reunions and family. Most of these get-togethers boil down to one thing: I'm a performing artist existing in situations populated by non-performing people. It’s not always true, but a great percentage of the time these non-performers have no idea what we do, how we do it or the fact that our doing it is a vital part of society. And even though the vast majority of people are ignorant about how the Business of show works, everyone has an opinion or an experience.

No matter what level of success we’ve had, the conversation at a party or reunion always turns to what we’re doing with our lives. And everyone almost demands you hear what they have to say about it:

“Acting isn’t going to make you money.”

“Your cousin Kelly is going to school for architecture. Why can’t you do something productive like that?”

“I was a ballerina. When I was in third grade I took ballet for a whole year.”

“I dated this actress once. She was hot but a mental case.”

“Why aren’t you on Broadway yet? You’ve been in New York for a whole year. I don’t think you’re trying hard enough”.

And on and on and on until someone comes up with the most original idea ever:

“Hey, why don’t you show us your stuff?”

For my dad, he always wanted to see me tap dance. We would be watching a movie musical (after I begged for hours to do so) and there would be a tap number. Inevitably he would say things like “I bet you didn’t learn that in class”, or “you probably can’t even do that”.

I would laugh it off and continue watching the movie, unaware that this would be a reoccurring theme in my show business life. At parties and gatherings I would be put on display, essentially reduced to being a performing monkey.

Every year, every party, every celebration it was always the same. It never stopped. It didn’t matter that I spent $65,000 on a degree. It didn’t matter that I was still basically in school with all my dance classes, voice classes, and acting lessons. It didn’t matter that I had to miss meals to afford to take those classes. It didn’t matter that what I do is just as important and necessary as what a doctor or lawyer or banker does. I had to be judged and proven worthy of the title of artist...by non-artists.

And every time I declined. 

Every time but once.

When my mom went into the hospital the last time before she died, the whole family gathered. One night it was just me and my oldest brother sitting in the hospital room. He turns to me and says “why don’t you sing something for her?” So I did. I sang the first thing that popped into my head, “Everything’s Alright” from Jesus Christ Superstar.

Try not to get worried

Try not to turn onto

Problems that upset you oh

Don’t you know

Everything’s alright

Yes, everything’s fine

And we want you to sleep well tonight

Let the world turn without you tonight

If we try

We’ll get by

So forget about us tonight

In the middle of my singing, to our dying mother, my brother says “You’re trying too hard to be perfect. Just sing, like this...” He proceeded to sing some song. I don’t remember which one. I was too upset on so many levels that it just got blocked out.

From that point forward I flat out refused to perform on cue. If I wasn’t being paid or if it wasn’t going to advance my career or fluff my resume I wasn't doing it. At parties when people find out I’m a musical theatre performer they inevitably ask to hear or see something. I simply say one of two things.

“I’m a professional. I get paid a lot to perform. Are you paying by cash or check?”

Or if I’m in the mood for a lengthy discussion I say:

“If I were a dentist, would you ask me to extract a tooth right here, right now?”

I love parties as much as the next person, probably more. But there is a difference in being a guest at the party and working at the party. If nothing else, catering has taught me that. I want to enjoy the festivities, not be a puppet with strings to pull whenever someone wants entertainment.

I don't need to prove myself or my worth to anyone.

What we do as artists deserves respect, just like any doctor, lawyer or architect. What we do as artists deserves monetary payment just like any banker, nurse or teacher. If those things aren’t forth coming, artists have to choose not to share their art. WE are a valuable part of society as a whole and should be treated as such.

You as a performer have to stick up for yourself. If you aren’t being paid, or it isn’t advancing your career or putting a notch on your resume think long and hard about why you would do it. And then don’t. Before anyone will respect you, you have to respect yourself and your Art. Otherwise you’ll spend every holiday party hearing...

“...Why do I pay for all those lessons? Dance for Grandma. Dance for Grandma!”

...without a song or dance what are we?

It’s December first and I’m just posting November’s blog. November was unusually busy with work and trying to raise funds for the show I wrote. I did write a blog and it would have posted on time had I figured out what the heck I wanted to say. It turns out that blog was coming from a place of negativity which made the task of putting a positive spin on it almost impossible. Like I said there was a lot going on.

Awhile back my friend Lisa had noticed that I had become very negative and very depressed. Nothing was going right in my life: no love, no job no nothing. So she challenged me to post one thing I was grateful for everyday for 123 days.

Every day for 123 days I would post something I was grateful for along with a countdown to number one. Some days it was difficult. Others it was easy. By the time the final days came around I was constantly searching for something to be grateful for. All day long I would literally think I’m going to post about being grateful for this or for that. The whole day was spent being grateful. After the challenge was over I really missed posting about my gratitude.

Doing this challenge altered the course of what was happening in my life.

When it came time to blog for November I didn’t want to do the usual Thanksgiving, count your blessings thing. Been there done that. Besides I was so angry about a few things that had happened and disappointed by what more than a handful of people had done or didn't do as the case may be. The only things that came out while writing my blog were, let’s say, not nice. Or inspirational. Or helpful in anyway whatsoever to anyone.

I thought about the people who would read the blog. What would the high schoolers get out of it? And I remembered seeing a picture on Facebook that said “be the person you needed when you were young”.

All through elementary school I was a star pupil; kind, polite, reserved, you name it I was it. Through a little trick I maintained a straight A average. I’ll share that trick another time, maybe. At any rate, in the fifth grade I was reading on a college level. In the sixth grade I would finish the entire days’ worth of school work within an hour. I was lucky enough to be chosen to “student teach” the kindergarten classes in the afternoon. I think they did that just so I would have something to do.

I had tons of friends

Junior high came and things started to change. My trick for maintaining high grades wasn’t quite working. I actually had to do a little homework, but just a little. I joined clubs like the Yorkers, a New York State historical society club and Junior Achievers, a club for future entrepreneurs.

I had a few friends.

Then High School happened. And as fate would have it, High School started for me before puberty did. I was left behind by my “friends” because of all the hormones flying around. I say “friends” because in elementary school my “friends” only wanted the answers to the school work. In Junior high school my “friends” only wanted to borrow money. None of which I ever saw again. And now I had nothing to offer those “friends”.

So there I was starting High School friendless. There was only one high school in my area. All the kids from three different junior high schools were stuffed into one building. (I say stuffed like it was some huge sort of thing. There were only 350 people in my graduating class). My whole safe small middle class world was blown apart. There were kids there I had never seen before. Attitudes I had never encountered. Rich kids from a part of town I didn’t know existed were there. My mother knew them. She was friends with their mothers. And she knew that if I were to succeed in life I needed to have an edge on them.

Immediately my mother started with her insistence that I do stuff that looked good on a college application. I would go to school, hate every moment of it, then go home and be nagged at about my grades and homework and what I did or didn’t do for college. My brothers and sisters were a nuisance at best. They were star athletes, scholars and popular. Then there was me, the middle child.

I focused on everything I didn’t have and everything I wasn’t. And it got to be overwhelming.

I decided that I wasn’t worth the space I took up on the planet. It was time to give up that space and let someone more worthy have a little more room to live and thrive. I decided that I was going to kill myself.

One night I was alone in the kitchen. I took a steak knife out of the draw. With both hands I grasped it. I aimed for my heart and took a deep breath...

“Just one more day.”

A voice in my head said just wait one more day.

So I did.

The day started out just like any other day. I had no prospects, no desires, no needs and no dreams. I was just there. My dad woke me up. I got ready for school. I had breakfast with my mom. And again she started in with the nagging about joining a club or doing something that could be put on a college application. In order to get her to shut up I promised I would join whatever club had a meeting that day.

Off I went to another day of hell in high school.

In homeroom I listened to the announcements closely. If nothing else I was a man-child of my word. Whatever club had a meeting, be it the chess club, or swim team, or descendants of Egyptian kamikaze sumo wrestlers, it didn’t matter. I would choose one and I would join.

Luckily, there was no choice to be made. Only one club had a meeting that day. Only one club was looking for new members. If you’ve read the very first blog I posted, or visited my website you know which club it was. But just for clarity sake it was the Drama Club.

Soon I would have a purpose. Soon I would have goals and dreams and a group of friends that liked me for me. And thank god soon after my 16^th birthday, puberty hit. With doing two major musicals a school year, my life made sense.

Flash forward X amount of years and here I am. Do I still struggle with all the things I struggled with in high school? Sure. Those things don’t go away. I just learned how to deal with them. And all the while I’ve lived life. I’ve traveled around the world, performed in several countries, lived in Europe, toured the United States with shows, met some amazing people, had the show that I wrote performed in New York City with people from and destined to be on Broadway. I have an apartment, I have a job, I have a career. And I have friends, great friends from all over the world, that love me for exactly who I am. All this makes me feel special.

I now realize I’ve always been special. And guess what? So are you. Everyone is. The trick to Life is finding where your special fits into this world. And trust me it does fit somewhere. I know it does because I found where mine fits. It just takes time to search for that place. 

The holidays can be rough for so many people for so many reasons. As the season begins in earnest, let me be that voice in your head that says “one more day”. Let me give you the hope and strength to find where you fit in the world.  Take all the time you need. There's no rush. You have your entire Life to find it. And once you have, always be grateful for it.

#1...

"...I say thank you for the music..."