2007-Feb-9 - Gotta Cover Up Those Blemishes
Because I'm getting headshots tomorrow. Remember when you were a kid and mom would take you once a year to some place where they'd sit you and your siblings up on some table with varyious boxes and such on top of it covered by shag carpeting and then they'd scroll down those backgrounds: noir, swirly brown, and duck pond? -yeah those were kind of like the headshots of our youths. The difference is: then you cried while getting your pictures and now you cry when getting them back.
I'm trying to remember if I got new headshots last year or two years ago. Hmm... What does it matter? The fact is my current one needs improving. You see, nobody told me I shouldn't have selected a picture where the top of my forehead is cut off. Like so:
That said, I'll be shooting this weekend with a photographer my manager, Rudy, set me up with. The idea is that we'll have the pics (hopefully much better ones) before Tuesday when Rudy has a meeting with a fellow from CAA or William Morris- I forget. Apparently Rudy has a few meetings lined up over the next couple weeks where he'll be pimping out his clients to agency types and maybe just maybe somebody'll bite. We shall see...
Although I'd rather be spending that cash on a flatscreen than more pics of myself, perhaps my investment will pay off somewhere down the line.
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2007-Jan-31 - Huzzah!
And so it begins...
After 2 years banging it out on the keyboards, in each other's living rooms, sometimes under the influence and other times sober as a southern Baptist judge on Sunday, my 2 cohorts and I have finally unveiled our script for all to see- or at least for several of our trusted friends and colleagues to read for us.
That's right- we had a table read. It's a strange thing, having your words (or some amalgamation thereof, considering with 3 of us there are only a few lines which could be solely attributed to one) spoken in front of you. To have people actually laugh at fatuous drivel you've written. To think that maybe there's a chance, a glimmer of hope, that someday we'll be seated in a cineplex drunk as Russians watching our story unfold on the big screen... Yes, that would be righteous!
I bet you're wondering what our little story's about. Well, we've yet to come up with a solid logline but I'll take a stab at it:
The Renaissance Faire: where fantasy and reality converge in a messy hulk of turkey legs, corseted bosoms, and mead.
OK, that's not really a logline. More of a tagline, though a questionable one at that. Hmm... let me try that again:
When Josh joins an acting troupe to perform in a renaissance faire for the first time, he has no idea what he's gotten himself into.
Damn, this logline thing is tough. Oh well, perhaps you've gotten the picture (however fuzzy). Huzzah by the way, in case you're not a ren faire vet, is what people say to cheer the queen (who in our script is a transsexual- how do you like them apples?).
More to come...
This is an amazing pic- probably the best I've seen of a ren faire. And yes, we do have a climactic joust in our script.
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2007-Jan-10 - 1/07: the state of things
Hello out there!
Some of you who've been faithful visitors to this site may have wondered: "What the hell happened to that KYJoe character and his biz pursuits?" Or something like: "1 blog post every 3 months is pathetic- he's a worse actor than he is a blogger." Or even still: "I don't give a shit about this Kentucky what's-his-name cause I just come here for the Clay Aiken stories!"
Well, whatever the case may be I vow to you here and now that I will post at least 1/week. That's right: once per week. Again, I realize some of you could give a rat's anus, and while that hurts I must say, it's your prerogative.
So, onto the update. Here's how things stand for me:
1. I'm a gettin hitched in May! I'm pretty stoked about it I gotta tell ya. High diddle lee do- no mo bachelor life for me! And while there'll be aspects of it I'll miss (the freedom to do whatever the hell I want/ not having someone tell me whenever I mess up (because I already know myself when I do!)/ and be able to holler at any young phillie that trots round my pasture), it's good to finally settle down. However, that doesn't mean I'm giving up the quest (in the biz that is).
2. Acting-wise? My friend, Rudy, has asked if I'd like to be one of his clients. He's starting up a new management firm and has pretty much filled up his stable of talent. I must say that I'm pretty pumped about it. My agent has been about as useless as an Ohio St. offensive lineman against a Florida passrusher over the last 2 years, so any change in representation will be a definite improvement.
Besides this, another friend, Mange, and I are attempting to produce a 2-person show authored by one John Patrick Shanley. It's called Danny and the Deep Blue Sea. Me n Mange have been talkin about doing this show for like 4 years now so we're chompin at the bit. Hopefully we'll get it done. If so it'll probably be in March.
3. Speaking of this Mange person, she and I and another compatriot have spent the last 2 years writing draft after draft of our magnum (or at least summa) opus. What's it about? I can't say too much- you know how people burgle others' stories in this town. Anyway- it's an ensemble comedy which is set over one weekend at a renaissance faire. We're thinking that the 3rd draft is the charm- a table read is scheduled for the 28th.
And that's it for now. Hey, even if only mom reads this it's cool... you know. I mean, the fact that I'm gettin it out there in public is a good thing. Perhaps forced blogging will forse me to get focused. I'm not gonna want to begin each entry: Nothin new happened. Just pickin my ass watchin syndicated TV. Peace.
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2006-May-9 - Literally is being used literally way too much
Let me take a moment away from moping about my present Showbiz malaise but not doing anything about it, to point the finger at most of y'all.
There is figuratively an epidemic sweeping through the collective colloquial conscience of America (maybe other predominantly English speaking countries as well- God forbid- I don't know). Intelligent people have fallen prey to it, non-intelligent people use it to sound intelligent, and non-natives are being taught by us natives the completely wrong meaning of it. What is It? The word: literally.
Everytime someone uses the word anymore it's reminiscent of cracked and bleeding fingernails on dirty chalkboards (now that's a visual and an... audial?). Am I the only one out there who feels this way? Should I be worrying about more pressing issues? Are "yes" and "yes" the answer to these questions?
Let me provide some examples of the indulgent use of this word:
The other day someone told me that a person or dog or whatever was "hot on his heels... literally." For another creature to literally be "hot on one's heels", said creature would have to be (a) really hot and (b) actually adhereing directly to the person's heels.
Recently my friend told me he "literally woke up and grabbed a beer." If he'd told me that he "woke up this morning and got himself a beer", I think I would have understood what he meant- he has a problem . There's no other way to grab a beer, than to literally grab one. Now I understand in this case my friend, who is quite intelligent, was using the word for emphasis. Think of another way do it, man! For example: "The instant I got up I grabbed myself a cold one."
People, you gotta knock it off! Sometimes I think individuals are trying to use the word as many times as possible when conversing with me because they're in cahootz or something (like the cops saying "meow" in Super Troopers).
My advice: Try and ween yourself off the word. Tape yourself during a shootin the shit type conversation. If you use it 5 times (someone I was talking to honestly did this in a span of 2 minutes! -I needed gauze to stop the blood rushing from my ears), try 4 the next time you chat with somebody.
If we all work together we can defeat the Dark Lord Literally and loosen his grip around our collective vocal chords (I meant that figuratively).
By the way, check out this site -these folks agree with me.
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2006-Apr-30 - Don't Call It a Comeback...
Ahh the ebbs and, more seldom for some of us, flows of the creative pursuits. How does one maintain a Cruise-type zeal for life without paying exorbitant amounts of dough to have those pesky phaetons removed? (Is that right? I'm sorry if I'm a little confused on Scientology doctrine- I've never been to the Celebrity Center.)
Anyway, I digress, which is itself a manner of ebbing isn't it? Back to the crux of my argument. What argument (there I go again)? It's time to get back in the game. I've used that cliche before I know, but this time I think I probably really mean it. You might be wondering from whence this willfulness came. Well, you see I had a certain birthday recently, and though I was not cognizant of its meaning at the time, I am now. The 3-0 grenade has hit me, and I'm still carrying on. However, I resolve to soldier on with more... resolve I suppose.
 That's me sweating and doing my best Righteous Bros. rendition on my BDay.
Now I'm hoping you faithful readers out there will hold me to that which I aim to do. Tomorrow, I will march into my agent's office and demand to see my contract (since I seem to have misplaced mine) so I can find out if I'm liable for leaving since I've been on 2 auditions this f*&%in year! (I'm rehearsing putting my foot down.) Now, my agent did tell me that the reason that few c.d.s (that's casting directors) are biting is because my headshot is not working for me. So, tomorrow I'm also going to hit up my friend E. Henry (who has volunteered to shoot me in the past to build up his portfolio) to take my shots some time within the next week (I wanna have a week of working out and getting the proper amount of sun for some good shots).
The idea, I've heard before, for actors is to make career progress in some way a little bit everyday. I've done this on a month by month basis in my near decade of time here, but daily? Wow, sounds a little crazy. But it ain't. And with your help we can move mountains. Or at least help Sisyphus (that's me) keep his rock at the top of one. I'm just askin y'all to keep tabs on me. Unless, of course, you know of an agent who will get me more than 2 auditions every 4 months.
Ciao.
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2006-Mar-7 - For Your Consideration (Next Year)...
A few months ago I was given the opportunity by two of my friends, Doug and Wendy, to pay my way to Wisconsin and perform a minor role in their indie film. Now, some in this town might have scoffed at the idea, but being a humble thespian (who hasn't exactly been performing for large paychecks) I accepted.
There were some things in it for me: I had no footage on HD (that's high def digital), I'd never gone "on location", these were my friends who'd invited me, and I'd never played a mustachioed cop before (Stacey Keach as Mike Hammer was the inspiration for my role) . "Maybe I'll get a lot of writing done," I mused. Of course, that didn't happen (well I did get a 3 page treatment completed- that's something I guess).
Ahh but indies are fun, though. No drama queens or egos. No annoying PAs or studio Execs. No need to show up on time or sober (kidding- ha ha- right?- Doug, Mom? you're not laughing)...
What I enjoyed especially about this shoot was the Deer Bar (after shooting (by shooting I mean filming- this wasn't a bar where people get drunk and shoot deer- all the deer are dead already see), the quality meals we received, the brilliant Wisconsin Autumn leaves, the unwavering smile of Ted (our producer) even in the midst of great pressure and frustration, and the camaraderie among the cast and crew. You see, on the big shoots a lot of crewmembers consider the actors to be a sort of pariah, to be avoided like the plague. That wasn't the case here. Those gents from the top-of-the-line film school, Columbia College, were as humble as a Chicago Cubs fan after the Sox took the Series.
So here are some myriad and sundry shots (none actually taken by me). I have tried to be as honest as I could in my descriptions of the pix, although I admit some artistic license was taken. Please comment on anything you see fit to make comments about.
"Motivation? I'm not concerned with that. Just say the bloody
lines please." (Doug actually never uttered this, but thunk it?
Hmmm...)
When you're the Writer/Producer/Lead/Editor of a feautre film it's difficult to carry on with the activities of a normal 23-year-old
like socializing, shopping, and keeping up with the OC.
For Wisconsin indies it's customary to allow the DP a 6 beer
per diem (although Mark's fee is double).
One of the leads? No. But damn that Alvin is one handsome man.
Now sing it all together just like Sade: "Smooth (boom) operator...
Smooth (boom) operator..."
"Do you suppose we ought to stop quibbling and get
this shot before the sun goes down?"
Brits and Canucks always seem to work well together.
Bobbie Jean gives Lara a thumbs up for her efforts.
Wendy wonders if she should help so she can add Makeup Artist to her list of credits
Sometimes actors, like Cal for example, expend so much energy on their performances that they wind up bed-ridden
due to severe exhaustion.
The Wisconsin Film Commission requires that all films
made in the state have a minimum 5 minutes of hockey
footage.
Today, many Waupacans fully realize the sheer joy of being... an EXTRA! 
Is that one of the Strokes?!?!? No. Just another one of those
stylin crewmembers, Jeff. "Yeah, I'm the OC- that's Operator
de Camera."
"... I don't mean to be a pain in the neck, but we're
a little strapped for time so quit hangin around and
get this shot please."
A shout out to the Waupaca P.D. for the complimentary
usage of their vehicles, uniforms, station, jail, etc. The only
PD in L.A.that might do that for a film is the Rampart
Division (and only if you paid them a hefty fee).
Although yet another Steelers fan not from Pittsburgh, Kristian
proved to be a standup guy. Here, he's blowing some smoke up
the deputy's tailpipe.
 Note to Self: Tell DP in next film that red light is not flattering for me.
 That's that studly boom op. again getting some major air.
 What's An on? Hey, you might feel the same
way upon having visited the USA for the first time.
In Wisconsin this beautiful house is worth $400,000. In L.A. $8 million. How do I know? I have a PHD in real estate.
Most don't realize what a problem lice are in
the Upper Midwest.But Billy knew just the remedy
"What cha got in that ass pocket 'o yours, Mr. DP?"
"Do not disturb our quiet farming community!
Or else I'll pull a Brokeback on you"
Thanks for stopping by. DVDs of Afterthought will be available in a few months.
Congrats to Doug, Wendy, and Ted especially for pulling off this project, as well as the cast, crew, and good people of Waupaca. All kidding aside (for a moment), you guys did one helluva job. I can't wait to see it up there on the big screen.
Peace and Happy St. Patty's Month!
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2006-Feb-21 - What Do Aspiring Actors Do For Their Bread?
I received this message the other day from one of the people who frequent my blog:
"Hey, KYJoe, or whatever it is you call yourself, if you ain't making any money acting, what the hell do you actually do for your bread? -from Dad-
I happen to be in good with one particular school. I won't mention any names, because of the day last week I am about to recount, but it's where Ray Bradbury went to middle school.
Last Friday was an especially memorable day, and also a cake sub job. Fourteen students and I took a bus downtown through the garment district and around Skid Row to the Inner City Arts complex.
Now I know what some of you are thinking about this "Inner City Arts", and no the students do not learn the ins and outs of tagging, pimping out their rides, or rolling the perfect J. They learn sculpting, music, painting, and other useful and non-vandalistic type things.
Before the first class, studentslike Daniel enjoyed
a middle school diet staple: Hot Cheetohs.
My group had one class of animation and one of storybook making. In Animation, they had collectively come up with a story about a pilot and his secretary whose plane loses control over a remote island and the two parachute out just in time. The pilot's parachute gets caught in a tree and a monster grabs and carries him to his cave to make a stew out of him. But the secretary comes to the pilot's rescue and beats up the monster who flees in tears. However, (and this is where it starts to get weird) the secretary doesn't fish the pilot out of the stew. No. She continues on with the same recipe the monster was using. Maybe she was tired of being a secretary to a pilot- I mean it must have been a boring job- there's not a lot of filing or phone calls being answered in mid-air. But to resort to cannibalism? That's outrageous.
But at least the kids were learning and creating- eh.
 
Moises and Kenny operate the three-tiered animation plates like Jose makes the plane go boom!
old school Disney pros.
After Animation and another snack break, it was time for those storybooks.
Here, Giovanni pens his story about a boy who shoots fire out of
his hands and with this power heats all the homes in the world that
formerly were heated by the burning of fossil fuels- wait, some of
that I concocted...
By the time storybook making had finished up, I was quite exhausted and the children took advantage of my near vegetative state.
It is a good thing no admins were there to witness this debacle.
Other than my sleep deprivation, things went very well. Another day, another dollar, and fourteen- actually fifteen including mine- minds enlightened, at least to the slightest of degrees.
That's my job. Other than performing mostly pro bono, that's what I do.
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2006-Feb-9 - Back to School (at least for 4 weeks anyway)
Tonight I will begin a session with Nick Anderson who is an assistant of Dava White, the casting director for My Name is Earl. The idea here is that I will so impress Mr. Anderson this evening that he will beg for my headshot and deliver it first thing tomorrow morning to Ms. White. Then she will in turn call me to audition for Earl's cousin and I'll get on the show and so on and so forth and then the Reds will win the World Series in the fall and the Bengals the Super Bowl next year and pigs will fly and Marge Schott will be resurrected and go to work for the ACLU and...
OK I'll stop. Excuse me for sounding cynical. It's just very difficult to be optimistic at times. However, at least I'm optimistic enough to continue to try (allright- so 'continue' might not be the best choice here- it's not as if my effort has been sustained- it has ebbed and flowed much like the Pacific tide).
Anyway, I could say f@#$ it and fly to vegas and blow all the money I'm spending on this class in 5 minutes at the craps table. But I'm not. I'm hunkerin down and doin it. Like a hunka hunk 'o burnin- aspiring actor.
As it is, I am actually kind of excited to get back to class. Who knows? Maybe this Anderson fellow will have some excellent advice that I actually take to heart such as: "Don't use half a bottle of Elmer's to glue your resume to your picture." or "Personal hygiene is very important for an actor." or "Maybe you should consider a career in something not remotely related to the entertainment industry like medical billing or furniture upholstery."
Well, I'll just have to see I reckon.
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2006-Jan-26 - The Thee-a-ter Bug
Why do I spell it out in a pseudo-phonetic style, you ask? Beacause that's the way it should be spoken- with 3 syllables. Whether you say it like David Niven or Joe Bob Briggins, you're going to make it a tri-syllabic word (of course the pronunciation is a bit different).
This reminds me of when we did Xanadu in college.
So, ahhh yes- my point: I haven't done a play in some time and I'm itchin to do one. To be in the thee-a-ter again- oh it makes me misty just considerin it. My friend, SocalJess, and I are in talks about performing a two person show together in June. It's a really intense piece written by New Yorker and Irishman, John Patrick Shanley. I won't mention the name just yet since it ain't set in stone at this point.
Anyway, SocalJess and I have collaborated (with a few other buds as well) several times before and always pulled off pretty decent stuff, but usually lost a good deal of money. What with the space rental and rights and costumes and set and paint for the set and beer to drink while painting the set- it adds up. And then only your really close friends and a few arts supporting older couples from the neighborhood and one actor's manager show up, and you're left holding the bag (and it definitely ain't a bag with dough lemme tell ya).
Nevertheless, we plan to do this show. For unless your name is Mr. Broadway Excutive Producer, your chances of making money on theatrical productions is slim to less than none. That's not why you do thee-a-ter in L.A anyway. It's for the love of it. (Incidentally, I need a new car so we need to make a lot of money on this play- If you can make it please do so.)
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2006-Jan-23 - Diversions
It's impossible to chase your dreams all the time. Sometimes we need a break. Time to kick back, let loose, maybe even get away from the LA supermegopolis for a couple days.
I did just that this past weekend. Although we in this fair city must bare traffic, smog, car thefts, high priced real estate, high priced drinks, superficial people, haughty people, people on dangerous drugs, beaches full of human waste, mudslides, killer bees, scientologists, bad theatre, earthquakes, and no NFL football- we've got it pretty good. Within a few hours by boat you can see this (these shots were both taken above Two Harbors on Catalina Island):
 
Here, one is so far from the LA din, it scarcely seems to exist. In a moment like this, one finds oneself at absolute peace with oneself- unfettered by the tethers of the routine, the struggles of the city. Here one can find solace in the unadulterated landscape.
That solace, however, may only last so long if one decides to keep going along the remote path one intially decided to clamor up- and then it gets darker...
...and there are creatures about...
That's a deer up there.
...and one had decided to begin hiking wearing not hiking boots but flip flops, and being that this is Southern California wilderness there are large amounts of f*%#in sagebrush and
cacti!...
...and so one calls his g-friend to tell her he loves her and he's laughing at his idiocy while crying about having to maybe sleep up in the hills because he can't find his way back on the path and- who knows- maybe there's coyotes and he can't really defend himself because he's writhing from the pain from having done his best imitation of 'Brer Rabbit...
...but one eventually finds himself down the hills and back on the road and...
...although it's pitch black, at least there are no f*%#in cacti as far as one can see, and after all is said and done one is welcomed back by familiar faces and a shot of Kentucky's finest: Wild Turkey to ease the terrific pain one is in.
It appears others may have had their share of
the Turkey as well.
What is my point in all of this, you ask? I don't know. I'm so hopped up on pain-killers right now that I'm lucky I know my name. I guess what I want to say is that one's life path is a long journey so sometimes it's good to venture off in a different direction. But beware of that which lurks off the beaten path. And cell phone screens do not make for good flash lights.
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2006-Jan-19 - Me as an Officer of the Law
Here is a still from Afterthought, which is being edited right now and will be ready for purchase come April. I played the part of Deputy Johnson. Here, me and the chief are talking to a student about some stolen books. Notice the consternation on the chief's face and my ambivalence (or maybe I was hungover that day).
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2006-Jan-12 - SAG- here I Come!
So after all these years I've finally made it- into the union anyway. This afternoon I'll be heading down Wilshire Blvd. to the Miracle Mile where stands that beatiful building with the lovely views of downtown and the hills and the ocean. I've been there before so I know.
You see, back- what- 3 years ago or so I ventured over to that very same building and took the elevator several stories up from the ground floor SAG offices. I thought I had found a back door entrance into the Screen Actor's Guild- through AFTRA (the American Federation of TV and Radio Artists for you non-industry types). Hearing the two unions were supposed to merge, I plunked down the 1100 some odd dollars to join AFTRA (all you have to do is pay to get in with them). A couple months later both unions voted on the proposed merger and it passed easily in AFTRA, but didn't quite get the percentage needed for passage in SAG.
I suppose some of those haters in SAG didn't want their precious union watered down by the likes of me. Well, you know what you can do you uppity, high falutin, elitist SAGers? Well... you can shake my hand cause I'm in (given that my Visa card isn't maxed).
Being in the union will change my life. I'll get to read for parts I could've never breathed on before, restaurants will give me their best tables, birds will sing as I stroll by! OK so things probably won't pan out like that exactly. At least, maybe my agent will pay more attention to me. And maybe I'll paymore attention to me too. By that I mean gettin my posterior in gear. Yeah- that reel's not gonna make itself buddy. Those headshot/res's ain't gonna mail themselves either. Guess I got some work to do. Don't wanna plunk down 1400 some odd dollars just to get in movies for free.
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2006-Jan-6 - Ahhh Xmas Time...
 
This fine gentleman held the spout for me. OhioKat and IndyElroy likes to kick it wit me on New Year's.
So some of you might wonder how an aspiring performer unwinds while back in the home country. Keggin and boogyin- I think that's all that need be said. Of course there is the requisite family time seated round the hearth swappin yarns, sippin cocoa, and playin Dreamcast (yes, there is still at least 1 Sega Dreamcast in usage and my folks have it in their living room- my kin and I enjoy Gauntlet Legends where 4 play at once!). But mainly it's lettin loose and sleepin late. Every now and then one has to field those questions about how long one plans to keep up his quest in the face of such staggering odds- yes, this talk can be tedious and perturbation inducing, but all one needs to is smile and say with a wink: "Ohh we'll just see what the Good Lord has planned for me won't we." How can a great-aunt respond to that? Such a lofty spiritual question is essentially a rhetorical one. Unless, of course, your great-aunt is into wikka or atheism. Then some elaboration might be necessary.
Anyway- I've tangentialized a bit here. Just wanted to relate the warmth I felt back home to y'all. Here's to hoping all of you out there questing in environs far from your families have the same support I have. Let's make this a year that Ma n Pa can be proud of.
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2005-Dec-28 - Writing: It just takes time
So I've got a few writing projects I'm juggling right now- ok I guess particular projects aren't up in the air (being juggled) if they are not being tended to on a regular basis. Although, I guess they are up in the air (being in limbo), since their existence is in question. And why is that? Because I am not tending to them. My backburner is full and the pots are crusting over like those ina dead cook's kitchen. BUT- I am not a dead cook. So I should be stirring my creations...
Who among you (the 3 people that venture onto this blog) has some advice for this weary writer? I've been told that waking up at like 5 AM every morning for a particular amount of time is a sometimes fruitful way to spur creativity. This I've often viewed as a daunting task for I treasure my slumber greatly, but it may be a very good way of getting the engines revved. What else might I try? Standing on my head for 10 minutes day and allowing the thoughts to drip down? Typing blindly and seeing what my mind subconsciously wants to say? Brainstroming after a bottle of double malt scotch? Any suggestions...
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2005-Dec-22 - Down with Negativism
My first couple of scribblings probably came off as a bit down in the dumps-ish. I don't want you to get the impression that I'm usually a down in the dumps-ish kinda guy. Au contraire, often I'm very jocund, jocose, or whatever- especially this time of year. I'm headed back to KY. Any KY peeps in da house? Where you at? C'mon represent. Yo, Louie-ville. Yo, Lexington. Yo, Rabbit Hash. Put your hands up we gonna mash... Sorry, went off on a little tangent there. Listening to Jay-Z, I just got a little carried away- that guy can lay down some phat rhymes and beats. So, as I was saying, I have a positive outlook. After recharging my batteries back on the home turf, a new year will be here. Time to start fresh. I'm ready to roll. I hope that the rest of you are too. Let's shoot for those stars. The sky's the limit. -Wait. If the sky is the limit then there's no way to reach the- ahhh nevermind.
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2005-Dec-15 - Hey Clooney!
I was settin round the other day on my rockin chair sippin from my jug 'o shine thinkin: Damn thar are a lota fellow damn Kentuckians out here! So I got to thinkin some more. If a fellow Kentuckian asked me to help him/her out I'd do it. Now I don't know how much help I could be considerin my station right now- but I'd do my darnedest- maybe lend a 5 or 10 spot or recommend a cheap headshotter. Just the same, I'd think somebody up above me, up there in that upper pantheon of the HWood elite might be able to help me to climb out of the abyss that is my career.
I'm speakin of someone in particular from Maysville, KY who now resides in Cali as well as Itali. This is a man who, unlike myself, was born into a showbiz family. His aunt in fact was a popular pop artist- is that redundant- back in the day- even performed with Bing Crosby in "White Xmas". My point in sayin all that is not that he wouldn't have achieved all that he has without his familial foundation, for he's a talented individual indeed, but that surely he had at least a smidgen of help through surname recognition alone. Maybe he auditioned for a producer who was well versed in national newspapers, and thus remarked: "Doesn't your father write for the Tempo section of the Cincinnati Post?" The gentleman I'm speakin of may have reluctantly said "yes" and the producer may have then responded, "His column is very insightful and a pleasure to read, I think I'll give you a part in this here soap."
Now this of course is all conjecture and really doesn't matter. Honestly, I'm beatin around the proverbial bush ain't I. So here it goes: O George, where art thou! If you got time in between makin your politic pics to help out a Bluegrass brethren, would ya be so kind? I'm not lookin for a hand out exactly- well let's call a spade a spade- I am lookin for one. Matt Damon's gettin on in years and has a baby on the way so he may want to assume a more domesticated livin style so if you got any younger, sidekickish parts in Ocean's 13 or whathaveyou, please consider me. That's all. Thanks for your time. By the way, in case George doesn't visit our lil site here can somebody be so kind as to forward it to him? Much appreciativeness.
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2005-Dec-14 - The Joe-urnal: Entry 1- the Intro
So I'm not gonna delude myself into thinking the online community at large gives a crap about yet another actor wannabe bemoaning his struggles in sunny LA. I guess I'm doing this for my own personal reasons, and maybe to let the folks back home know how things are going: "Yeah, Mom, things are going awesome here- just played some beach volleyball-What? No, not in the union yet. I realize it's been seven years. I know that's a long time. Don't you understand how painfully aware I am of how %#@$in long that is! I don't wanna talk anymore. What? No, I still love you, Mom. Please stop crying. I didn't mean to yell. OK I gotta go now. The game's on. Yeah- love you too. Bye now."
Allright, I may have embellished a bit there- I've never used %#@$ when talking to my mom. Anybody else out there have mothers wondering when your big break is going to happen? A little advice: Don't give yourself a time-table. Then they can't get on your case about how long you said you'd give it a shot (Of course if I'd stuck to mine I might be in the %#@$in union by now). Peace...
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