The Network Test
Part 1

Before I could be hired to play the part of Chuck and Bob on SOAP I had to go though what is called a Network test. I think in the olden days it was actually a filmed screen test. Now rather than wasting money on film the test is just a reading for the heads of the Network. In my case I had to get the approval from head of casting for ABC network. I remember her name was Pam Dixon.

At the time ABC Network offices were located on the 10th floor of a prominent building in Century City. The main reception area for the Network was an impressive two story marble like structure that resembled a mausoleum, cold, shiny, sterile and not particularly inviting.

Directly off the elevator was a long hardwood conference desk polished to an incredible shine. This was the day before personal computers but even at that there was nothing on the desk not even a note pad, nothing except a beautiful designer multi-line telephone. The phone was used by a receptionist who was a young, stunningly beautiful blond lady; a model type who was dressed like she had just come back from a fashion shoot. The blond was about six feet tall and wore stiletto heels. She actually stood up when I approached the desk. Between the two story entrance and her height with heels, I felt very small. I found out later that the ABC reception area had actually been designed specifically to make new arrivals feel small and valueless. It was a well crafted first salvo in the dangerous executive game of brinkmanship.

I told the receptionist I was there to see Pam Dixon. She rang her office. I remember she said "There is 'a' Jay Johnson to see Ms Dixon" as if I was one of many Jay Johnsons scheduled. As I remember, it was as if you could replace any ones name with the word clown. "There is a clown to see Ms Dixon. The blond said it would be a moment and invited me to have a seat on the couch.

The seating area was basically a couch, a couple of chairs and a low coffee table. Like the blonde's desk the low table was hard wood, shiny and completely devoid of any kind of clutter. Usually a waiting area has magazines or something. This table had nothing. It was the days before smoking was banned from buildings, but the table didn't even display an ashtray.

The couch was black over stuffed leather with very soft padding. When I sat down I almost sank to the floor. I was eye level to the arm rest of the couch. Again it was designed to make you feel small, and it was working. My nerves were on edge and I felt like the most insignificant person in the world. What was a ventriloquist doing at ABC, I thought.

Soon the casting directors for SOAP arrive. They said hello and have a copy of the script we are going to read. They ask me if I need a copy, but I was at that moment clutching a dog eared copy of my own. The casting ladies seem more nervous than me and are saying things like "Wow, big day. A lot riding on this audition, huh? This is probably the hardest thing you will ever have to do. Doing the work is much easier than this process... well, good luck" and they are ushered immediately into Pam Dixon's office.

Next the producers arrive with director Jay Sandrich. Jay Sandrich says, hi. He is a very nice guy and I was calmed for the moment. He also says to me, "Don't worry, just do it like you did it for us at the audition." The producers say nothing to me but reluctantly acknowledge my presence. (Note: the producers of SOAP remain some of the most unapproachable social misfits in the business). They are all quickly hustled down the hall to the mysterious office.

I am alone again with just the intimidating blond receptionist posing at her desk across the marble room. I smile at her, but she deflects the smile with body language that clearly tells me she is not there to socialize with me. Time does not fly by. I wait and wait and wait some more. I study my lines so much that I start to forget them. I go from the calming words of Jay Sandrich to a heart racing panic attack but I am still waiting.

After 45 minutes or more the SOAP casting directors come out to the couch. I try to stand up thinking it is finally time. It is very difficult to get out of the couch that has engulfed me. But the casting girls tell me to keep my seat, they aren't ready for me yet. It seems Pam Dixon is not there. As soon as she arrives we will start.

More time goes by and again the casting directors come out. I don't even try to get up this time, I'm not sure it is possible, the couch is actually devouring me. The casting ladies tell me that Pam is not there because she is at this very minute stuck in an elevator between floors of the building. She has been trapped for more than an hour and although they are trying to get the elevator running again, the engineers have no idea when they will be able to free the passengers.

Upon delivery of this news the ladies begin to contemplate between themselves what it means saying things to each other like: "I hope she is not claustrophobic. Can you imagine being stuck like that?... what a panic. I wonder if the lights are on or maybe they are in total darkness. Do you suppose she will feel like listening to a reading when she does get out? Wonder what kind of mood she is going to be in..." Then one of them turns to me and without really thinking about it says.... "Wow, you better really be funny today." And they walk back to the mystery office.

To Be Continued tomorrow.....

As you were,
Jay