The SOAP reunion

It became an hysterical game called TEAM THINKING. The opening round was relatively easy. Sal Viscuso asked, "How long has it been?" When no one had a quick answer he said, "Well what is 1981 from 2014?" Those more fluent in math than me said, "33." 

While I was contemplating my life three decades earlier with these people someone said, "But we started in 1977 so you have to add four more years".  It came clear that I have known the people at this dinner for almost four decades.  

I wasn't sure who would be there besides  me and Sandi, my friend Marsha Posner Williams, her husband Wayne,  Robert Mandan along with Jay and Linda Sandrich who conceived the event.  Over the past four decades I have seen those friends with reasonable regularity, but the rest of the guest list included people I have not spoken to nor seen since the day SOAP went off the air.

Most of the surviving cast members of SOAP came together for an evening.  It was like returning from a very long hiatus, sitting down at a studio table to read a new script.  However, this time they served food, wine, cocktails and our significant others were with us.

Everyone naturally looked older but it was a familiar table. Jay Sandrich, director, sat next to JD Lobue, director/assistant director on his left.  Marsha Posner Williams, producer/script supervisor and secret keeper sat to the right of Mr. Sandrich.  Going clockwise around the table was Bob Guillaume (Benson), Katherine Helmond (Jessica Tate) Ted Wass (Danny Dallas) Jennifer Salt (Eunice Tate) Sal Viscuso (Father Tim) Robert Mandan (Chester Tate) and me (Chuck without Bob).

Jay Sandrich welcomed everyone and explained that the evening had been inspired by the release of the Aaron Berman book about SOAP.  The book inspired him to watch the DVD's of the series again, especially the last year and a half that JD Lobue directed when Jay was off shooting a movie. In reliving the experience he realized how much fun he had during those days.  He decided to gather everyone, who was able to meet, for one more group hug.  

After we toasted the members of our cast who have passed away, the bonus round of "TEAM THINKING" began.  

"Remember the scene when Chester and Jessica were at the minister's office for marriage counseling?"

"Oh yeah. the minister said his wife ran off with the carpet installer.  Carpet guy must have gotten confused about what he was there to lay....."

"Who was the actor who played that part?" 

Metaphoric bats flew from the mental bell towers of those in attendance.  After several wrong names someone yells, "John Hillerman."  Score, and continue.  

"Who played Carol's mother?" 

"Who the hell was Carol?"

"The girlfriend who had Jodie's baby."

"The possessed baby?"

"No"

"The alien baby?"

"No"

"Wendy, Jodie's girlfriend's baby...."

"Rebecca Balding."  

"Yeah she was Carol...but who played her mother from Texas?"  Again the sound of brain cells trying to jump start around the room....

"Peggy Pope."  Came the answer followed by several people saying "of course I knew that."

We laughed, remembered and recounted memories of those days.  My big take away came from my sit-com step brother Ted Wass.  He was the one, not Billy Crystal, who figured out the 225 plus 10 game we used to play in the background shots. (that is subject for another blog) 

Most of us have gone on to other career milestones as SOAP becomes a mention in the bio/resumé. Ted is a well respected television director, Jennifer has become a writer, producer and show runner, Sal is performing in a play currently in town to valentine personal reviews. Jay, Robert, Katherine and Bob represent a body of work that allows them senior celebrity status.  Billy and I went on to win Tony Awards on Broadway for our respective solo shows.  We discovered that some of us live near each other and we vowed to meet again.

Jay Sandrich is right.  It was a special time, a special show and amazingly creative people. Funny how it took an independent contemporary look at the show in the form of Aaron Berman's Book to make us realize how lucky we all were. Thank you Jay, thank you fellow cast and crew members and thank you Aaron.

As you were,

Jay

(the other)

Nothing is new...

My Quick Attempt

I saw this picture of Sarah Palin yesterday in the Phil Grecian Facebook Continuum. 

I don't like the new hair style. I thought Sarah Palin was looking more and more like Peggy Hill. Peggy, the long suffering substitute teacher at Arlen, Texas, Tom Landry Middle School, matron of the Hill household star of the animated television show "King of the Hill". (From the same people who brought you Beavis and Butthead) I grew up in Texas and the series is required watching. 

Wit and Will Poster 2008

I decided to make a composite of the two women to see if the theory held up. I posted the image on the left to the Grecian flow.

As I was looking for images of Peggy on the web I found a composite had already been done several years ago. It was the poster for a show performed on October 18, 2008 at the Wit and Will Theatre in Albany entitled "Peggy Hill and Sarah Palin separated at birth".  They actually got the pose and the hair right. Kudos to the creators of the composite. They obviously thought it through and did more image research than I. 

But I will take credit for recognising a good proof of concept.  To me the Peggy/Palin comparison connects in so many ways, where do you start? 

"One of these women is a two dimensional character that makes you laugh at what she says....other is Peggy Hill." 

Your turn and.... go. 

As you were,

Jay

And the Oscar goes...

Ellen on stage at the Oscars
Holding the now famous smart phone.

On the second day after the telecast, the Oscar circus has moved on.  The 40 foot Oscar statues that decorated Hollywood Blvd are gone.  The section of Hollywood Blvd in front of the Dolby Theatre is open again to automobile traffic. Everyone has tweeted and chatted and texted and Facebooked all the spicy gossip.  We all have taken a shot at Kim Novac, there is now an app that will tell you how John Travolta would screw up your name in an introduction, people wonder what happened to Goldie Hawn's face and lots of Academy members have admitted to voting for "12 Years A Slave" without actually having seen it.  And lest we forget: Twitter was crashed by Ellen's retweeted impromptu celebrity selfie. (Here is a picture from the LA times of Ellen holding the record breaking Samsung Galaxy that snapped the now famous picture tweet.)

Some how we thought Ellen just came up with that idea back stage. And knowing the fertile mind of Ellen, she is capable of doing just that.  Few of us connected the fact that Samsung was a paying sponsor for the Oscars. It was no accident that Ellen was seen holding that white Galaxy smart phone several different times during the show. And on her own talk show yesterday, in an Oprah like gesture, Ellen gave everyone in her audience a Galaxy Smart phone.

Now before the masses run out and demand that phone Ellen has, here is something to consider. Ellen doesn't own a white Samsung Galaxy smart phone.  Back stage at the Oscars and on her television show, she tweets and texts on an iPhone 5. That white Samsung phone?... just a stage prop. 

I'm not crying foul. The clothes she wears are not hers either, they are "sponsored" and all that celebrity bling on the red carpet... mostly on loan from jewelry stores hoping to cash in on the celebrity connection.  It's the way it is done in Hollywood. 

Get a celebrity to hold your beer, model your clothes, drive your car or tweet on your phone and it is a publicity grand slam.  There are masses who will run to the store demanding the phone that Ellen uses. I mean after all Ellen can afford any phone in the world... and she chose a white Samsung Galaxy. Or did Samsung chose her? 

Although I admit to being an Apple addict there is certainly nothing wrong with the Samsung smart phone.  I've never used one but how different can these communication devices really be? Besides a cheaper price, I am sure there are many things to recommend it, but none of them have to do with WHO is  holding it on television.

If this information is an awakening to you....  call me because... I have some 8 track tapes that were owned by Cher.

As you were,

Jay

Writers Weather.

It was Spaulding Gray, a New Englander, who spent a winter in Los Angeles trying to write. He said he couldn't do it. The weather was always good and there were so many distractions to sitting down and trying to actually write something.  He postulated that he needed to be back East where there is weather. He screamed, "When will I feel corduroy on my body and be able to think again."  

For the last 48 hours it has been raining here in LA.  Rain in LA means flooding, mudslides and mandatory evacuations of homes in the path of a black water avalanche. We have not had a rain like this in several years so the drains and gutters have become clogged from lack of use. Streets far from the mudslides of the burn sites are flooded because of the back up.  All over the city motorist are avoiding the flooded areas, so traffic everywhere is impossible. In short there really is nothing to do but stay dry and safe inside your own home until Monday.  

Perfect day to write.  You would think so.  The legend is that Mary Shelly created Frankenstein as a story she told her husband and several other writers on vacation.  It was a summer when their vacation retreat became snowed in and there was nothing for the group of writers to do but stay indoors and tell stories.  For them that was writing rehearsal.  

So, here on this unusually dark and rainy California weekend, it is perfect weather to write the next great classic. 

Or is it? 

I have this romantic notion that writing is all about environment.  Like Spaulding Gray's lament, there seem to be physical places or situations that are better for writing than others. What is the perfect place and the perfect weather, and does it affect your writing?  Perhaps for those writers the caliber of Mr. Gray and Mrs. Shelly this is true, but for me, environment has nothing to do with it. 

I keep thinking how great it would be to go to the coffee house and write, or maybe the library or some secluded cabin in the woods where the ideas would just flow. As wonderfully adventurous as that is I know places do not inspire my ideas.  

NOT A MUSED

In reality the physical place disappears in the work.  The story/article/blog takes center attention and when the Muse is around the idea can be written anywhere. So far I have not found a place where my Muse likes to hang out, so I can find her when I am in need of her help. She shows up on a schedule of her own and departs without notice.  The one consistent quality to every Muse. When she arrives she demands all your attention.  If the writer's Muse is offended by lack of attention she sends Writers block. You can't write no matter where you are or what you do that's Writers Block.  

There is no other specific term for creative stagnation. If you are not inspired to paint you do not have painters block.  Lets just call it Artistic Block.  Artistic Block is the inability to participate in the creative activity of your soul.  Artistic Block is not just a barrier in the road to creativity, a thing like high water in the street to avoid, go around and get back on the path.  It is a complete lack of direction, the path is not just blocked it is gone. Whatever the stumbling block it must become your stepping stone. 

For me, I am blessed with a bevy of Muses. One of them is always around even if the rest are gone. When the writing Muse is absent it usually means that the drawing Muse is attending.  If I don't feel inspired to write then I am inspired to draw.  The drawing Muse has been around for a couple of weeks. Of course the Muse of ventriloquism is always stays but works much more than the other two and needs to have rest.

Outside is grey and over cast.  There are no shadows and rain comes in shifts.  My corduroy shirt maintains a perfect temperature as I watch the back yard enjoy a long shower. I have several electronic devices around me ready to record this experience in any way imaginable. My choice is to preserve the moment this way: What will we see from the vantage point of the next stepping stone?

As you were,

Jay

I think it was Titanic Thompson...

But it sounds like Damon Runyan....

From the Perspective of the Corner

Everything is creepy in perspective. Or is it perspective that makes things creepy? I do not know the answer but offer this as an example.

Very often I see a dark shadowy figure, in the house, lurking at the edge of my peripheral vision. Several times it has startled me enough to make me jump.  Every time it turns out to be Sandi's jacket draped over the rolling bag she takes to work.  When it is positioned near the Monkey poster it combines to create a virtual Sasquatch in the corner of the room.  Although I know immediately what has scared me, that knowledge does not keep it from happening again. 

The photo does not communicate
the same impact it has when experienced
in real size. 

The photo does not communicate
the same impact it has when
experience in real size.
It is a matter of perspective.

Here is a different kind of perspective. I found out recently that I was not the only one being startled by the shadow in the corner. The image had scared everyone in the family and a few guest who have stayed with us.  So, I ask Sandi not to hang her jacket on the roller board. That would put an end to the shadow people living at the house. 

My oldest son said he didn't understand. Why was I freaking out about a jacket when the next room has a puppet sitting in the chair. He's right. Why did a jacket in front of a poster freak me out when a life size ventriloquist puppet in the next room does not? It's all a matter of perspective. 

So, Is it perspective that make things creepy or is everything creepy in perspective?

As you were,

Jay

More than a Wedding Anniversary...

It was 23 years ago today that I was best man at my brother-in-law's wedding. It was a beautiful event at a wonderful place called "Inn of the Seventh Ray" in the heart of Old Topanga Canyon.  My sister-in -lust was beautiful and the entire family was there. My Best Man toast to the Bride and Groom was nominated for "spoken word of the year" by the "spoken word of the year society" ( I don't think that society exists anymore.) And the actor they got to play the part of the preacher/priest was perfectly cast.  And now 23 years later the marriage would be common law even if they did not have such a wonderful wedding party to celebrate, but I am glad they did.

The hardest part of being a best man is arranging the bachleor party.  I knew I could not handle this difficult job alone, so I was assigned another friend of my Bro-in-Law to help.  At the time the Groom and "Bride to be"were touring in a musical performing in LA. My party co-producer was one of the dancer/actor's in the show.  Since I'm not using names... we'll call him Jerome.  

Now, my experience at hiring strippers is limited, to say the least. I don't know how much experience Jerome had but being younger than me it came more naturally. And being that  strippers and booze are the essential elements of a bachelor party we arranged for several meetings to search out the best of each.  Eventually we ended up at the office of a "stripper's agency" in Hollywood.  It was a small office above a strip mall (how appropriate is that) next to the "Tail of the Pup" - a famous Hollywood hot dog stand (even more appropriate.)

The attractive if not over done "agent" asked us a few questions about the party, and the bride to be as we sat on a black leather couch across from her desk. She mentioned some names like Bambi, Keendra, Blossom, Virginia and Hielda.  They would all be perfect for our party in her opinion.  This one had bigger boobs, that on was a better dancer, and Virginia... well let's just say she was known for being limber.  It was like ordering new car, there were "special packages" that came with each model. To say the decision was over whelming was an understatement.  

"But", said the agent,"They are all beautiful and whom ever you pick will be great for your party.  Here watch this video tape of my girls and tell me which one you like." With that she swiveled a television monitor around on her desk hit a button and left the room to have a cigarette.

There we were watching a video of stripper after stripper on the "Agency" sizzle reel. Usually it was a video taken from the audience of a strip club, but every so often there would be a girl talking off her skivies in a very low production clip, shot with a hand held camera in a small apartment.  After a time Jerome and I noticed that all the under produced videos seemed to be shot in the same apartment. Althought 23 years later I remember it as Virginia who came on the screen, names were not the focus. This girl was doing things on a couch that neither Jerome nor I had ever witnessed, obviously this is pre-porno Internet. 

We really didn't know who to "hire" and it didn't really matter. The agent was still having a smoke. That is when I looked carefully at the couch Virginia was having relations with.  I said, "Jerome, does that couch look familiar to you?" 

The answer came to both of us at exactly the same moment. Together we looked down at the couch we were sitting on.  Yep... same one. We were sitting on the same black leather couch that had been the co-star of several audition videos.   Trying not to touch the cushions we levitated off the sofa and called for the agent.  Keendra won the audition, the contract was signed with us standing, but not closely to the desk.  

As it turned out Keendra did not show up for the party and instead we got Hielda to perform for us.  The rest of the evening is a blur, but it was the last time my sister-in-law allowed Jerome and I to be in charge of anything.  

It will go down as one of the best parties I don't remember in my life.

Happy Anniversary you guys.  And Jerome.... call me.

As you were,

Jay

Redundant Repetition

Digital animation Cell.

Things you can't do with just Pen and Ink

It started as a pen and ink, then scanned and treated to a bath of digital airbrush.
One of the few ways I know how to use a French Curve. 

Tongue Quicker Than the Brain?

Over the weekend I was at the supermarket shopping for a couple of last minute things.  Grocery shopping may be a dynamic activity for some, but for me it is not.  I usually try to multitask while shopping because I would rather be anywhere else.

At one point I found myself in a trance facing the canned goods aisle.  I recall I was, at that very moment, mentally rehearsing the Master Class I plan to give at Vent Haven this year. I am not sure that is germane to this story but it is a fact. (Also, I am not ashamed of blatantly promoting my part in the ventriloquist ConVENTion this coming July .. Here is the link:)

My trance was broken by a supermarket stocking clerk asking, "Can I help you find something?"  

"No, uh.. I was just thinking out loud, " I replied.  

The look on his face told me I said something wrong. Of course, never having seen him before this could be his normal look. 

(A Wayland and Madame line is appropriate here, Madame: "This guy says to me..'Are you giving me a funny look?' I said to him 'you have a funny look but I did not give it to you.' ") 

There was no time to consider that idea as I was returning to the real life trappings of a grocery store. Like someone caught asleep at the switch I felt the need to explain. 

I continued to babble..."To myself.. I mean. I was thinking out loud to myself ... well, not out loud... that's why I wasn't saying anything, I was just standing here, but then you know that... it's why you asked if you could help, isn't it?"  The clerk smiled defensively and quickly vanished from my view. 

This obsession I have to fill silent space with words is very useful on stage but in real life it ends up causing more confusion than necessary.  There was a simple and easy answer to the clerk's question, "Can I help you?"  The answer is: "No, Thank you." But for some reason I thought I needed to explain what I was doing in that asile. It could be a mild form of Tauretts Syndrome.  To over analyze it, until he interrupted me I was definintely not shopping, I was silently performing. It was as if I got busted by an "intention detective" and needed to give an alibi for taking up space in the green bean asile with no intention of buying canned goods.   No one was asking and no one cared, least of all the guy who keeps the shelves full. 

It reminds me of another time when my mouth was way ahead of my good sense.  I was with a group of guys at Universal City Walk.  The "Beach" bar was hosting a "Miss Hawaian Tropic.. bikini contest" which was in full progress. It consisted of half a dozen georgous young women modeling beautiful tans and wearing bearly legal string and thong bikini's for horny bar patrons.  The MC/host would quickly interview the girls before they strutted their stuff down the make shift runway.  To one particualrly voluptuous blond, the MC asked, "Give me three words that qualify you to be, Miss Hawaian Tropic Tan?" Very quickly I heard someone yell out:

 "Big, F-----, Tits".  As the crowd was acknowledging the line with a precocious laugh, I realized the obnoxious adlib actually came from my mouth. If I was on stage I could have blamed Bob, but he was not there, and I was not on stage.  It was actually more of a shock to me than anyone else. 

Those around me, who deal with my schitzophrenic split reality, have suggested I take a breath and come back to reality before I give a knee jerk vocal reaction.  It is not as easy for me as one would think.  It is so counter intuitive to my career.  On stage it is the quick or the dead with an adlib.  There is no time to think about how inappropriate it might be.  The liberty and tolerance given to a performer is not the same as being socially correct.   I'm working on it.  

As you were,

Jay

Weak End - UpDate

A rare insight into the decisions celebrities make before having plastic surgery. 

In Any Language

Valentine's Day

I am a hopeless romantic.  I believe that love should be like it is in the movies, bells ringing and dancing in the street.  Unfortunately, life is almost never like it is in the movies especially when it comes to love. However, that does not keep a guy from trying.

In my younger days my relationships did not last more than a year or so... sometimes a season at best. In those early days I had a specific Valentine's Day routine that had been perfected over the years since it could be repeated for different women. Then I got married.

The days of repeating the same romantic routine over and over came to an end. Valentine's Day and anniversaries became a study in creativity, trying to top myself each coming year.  Since I have a talent for drawing and writing, creative cards became my new modus operandi.  I could write a poem and draw a  picture and have a really great Valentine's Card. But...  now when I am looking at Valentine's Day number forty-something with the same woman, my creativity has been worked hard over the span of decades. 

My wife does not like candy and flowers are not an option for me.  Early in our marriage I surprised her with flowers at the dance studio where she was teaching and she called me by a former boyfriend's name.  I blamed the flowers which immediately went on the contraband list.  

So what to do today?  I have my drawing and it is ready to put on a card, I am hoping that I can come up with one more poem without repeating what I have done in the past.  

My Father who was not such a romantic got a pass every year from my mother.  She would tell him that she knew he loved her, he showed her every day, so why would this day be any different. She never expected that she would get flowers or a card. That sentiment did not survive to the next generation.  Although I do try to be a good husband every day, and Sandi knows that I love her, she still wants to have a symbolic gesture on the appropriate days. I get it, and do my best but this year it feels like a rerun.

So here is a shout out to all you guys and gals who are in a similar situation of what to do for the one you love. If, for you, it is just a matter of ordering a bunch of flowers or a Vermont Teddy Bear, you are truly blessed.  If you have gone through all your A material and like me are working from the C stack of ideas then today is full of stress.  You have run out of time.  If you do not have reservations at the most romantic restaurant by now, it is probably too late and trust me it is not about the food.  The same old restaurants that you go to during the rest of the year are not going to put points on your romantic score card.

As for me I will be trying to write that poem for the rest of the day.  What word rhymes with sexy that I have not used already?

As you were,

Jay

Throw Back Thursday

Being that this is Throw Back Thursday, I am republishing a blog written the end of last summer.  It is relative to what I am thinking this very day, and a reminder to my own self. 

It was originally titled "Yes to today not yesterday."  

I had a discussion with a Buddhist friend of mine about past lives.  My question was, are Buddhists interested in past life regression to try and understand the path that brought them to this life?

She basically told me that Buddhist have no more interest in past lives than the average person. Certainly it was not a tenant of belief.  

The Buddhist philosophy is not a matter of what happened back when, it is a matter of what you are doing now for that which is to come. At least that was my "take away" answer.  I am sure the Buddha would say it better.

It stuck with me though.  If one believes in reincarnation and we are here correcting the mistakes of our past, knowing those past mistakes is not as important as it would seem.  In fact the way I see it, that's a subtle cop out.  It becomes too easy to blame the situation you find yourself in on something from your past rather than your present involvement.

If a person is afraid of dogs, for example, and finds out that in a former life they were attack by dogs, it may be interesting but not helpful.  It is not important how dogs treated your former self, but what your current self is doing to make peace with the dogs today. Rather than your life being some paper cup that is blown to some experience by the winds of fate, your life is the wind blowing the paper cup to the experience of your own choosing.

Life is a little more difficult than overcoming dogaphobia.  There are people, places and ventures that have "attacked" us in the past.  It could make us afraid to repeat the experience. At the first sign of fear we generally stop and run away. If you do that you are definitely off your path. 

When you find yourself in a place you don't want to be you ask how did I get here?  The answer is not because, "those people, places, ventures or dogs hurt me in the past. I feared they would do it again,so I ran away." They did not make you afraid, you are in control of your own emotions. To get back on track you will probably have to come their way again.  One will never reach a destination by running away and coming back to the same point in the journey time after time. 

No matter what you were before, even yesterday,  and no matter what caused your fear, unless you are moving forward you are going in circles. Deal with the issues today as a new person capable of moving forward in strength not running backward in fear.  Other wise you will be stuck in the same place for a long time and perhaps in Buddhists thinking... many lifetimes.

As you were,

Jay

Ever Wonder?

The Actor's Audition Enigma

A friend and director presented a staged reading of a play that I attended several months ago.  I came  to support his work, but enjoyed the play very much.  It was about LA Showbiz and the stereotypes that frequent this town. It was funny and showed the complete insanity in the business of "show". Although I thought the play had a few problems, it was certainly a project that could and should be fully realized.

Weeks later that same director came up to me at a social gathering and mentioned the play was being presented next month at a prestigious theatre in town.  Then he said, "I think you would be great in one of the roles.  There is very little money, and I know that your are busy, but would you consider it?"  

An actor only hears one statement in a question like that: "You would be great in one of the roles!"

Naturally I was flattered, inflated and complimented. Of course I would consider it, and could actually squeeze the project into my schedule. So I began the journey that every actor takes, no matter who they are or what the status of their career. 

The director is a fan of my work and as it turns out the writer had seen my one man show and loved it.  The director got me a copy of the script and I began to become familiar with the play.  There are three men and three women who play various characters in twelve different scenes that take place in a Deli. Since the male characters are somewhat interchangeable I

was not sure which role I "would be perfect for."

A week later the director asked me if I had gotten a call for the audition. My actor's ego rebelled a little. Audition? The director and the writer know my work and like my work, this is a little theatre that pays almost nothing, I have done four television series and am a Tony Award winner... audition?  Ego aside I said of course I would audition. I chastised myself for thinking that I was so good I did not need to audition. An actors insecurity will always trump ego.  

Turns out that I was not going to be in town for the auditions. I quickly adjusted my expectations and gave up the idea of doing the play. It was easy to let it go and tell myself "this isn't your experience to have, move on."  So I did. But it is never that easy. 

My friend said, "That's okay we'll just bring you in for the call backs when you return." 

Of course I could do that,  although I have never auditioned well.  Once I am "off book" I can find my footing as an actor, but with a script in my hand searching for the words my dyslexia will take over and torpedo my best attempts to show what I can do. With a sense of dread looming in my gut I got the sides and prepared for the audition.  

Now to prepare for any audition actors have to completely give into that role. It is always like a suit that is not tailored very well and as uncomfortable as the fit is, you have to make believe it is an Armani, custom made for your talents. No matter how many times your insecurity tells you this is not a good fit, you have to believe that you are the star of the fashion runway and go for it completely.

The call back audition day comes. It has been a long time since I sat in a room full of actors all wanting the same job but that sick feeling of competition immediately returns.  

The director comes through the waiting room, greets me and gives me a big hug. I feel the tension from the others. I am one of those actors every audtionee hates. I am friends with the director and obviously have an unfair inside track for this job.  Little do they know that this "advantage" does not quell the panic attack raging in my belly.  The pressure to knock it out of the park has only increased. 

The actor that I am reading with has agreed to run lines with me before we go in.  It is not helpful, the actor was simply reading words and there was nothing there for me to react to. It is finally our turn.  

Once on stage in front of the director and producer my partner taps into his inner Laurence Olivia and the emotion he spews forth is bipolar.  He was saving his talent for the money shot. Having had years of experience reacting to unforeseen moments on stage I was able to go with him and the scene caught fire.  I was pleased with the audition. The sheer panic of trying not to let this guy steal the audition released me from my dyslexic disadvantage. After being brought in another couple of times reading with some of the women, we all went home.

For the next couple of days I begin to work this job in my mind. How will I do that audition scene better in rehearsal. Who will be the girl that I have that great drunk scene with?  Can I get some of my old casting director friends to see me do this part? Maybe this part will inspire them to bring me in for some "pilot season" roles.  Perhaps this will be the part that will show this town that I am not just a ventriloquist actor but a legitimate actor as well. I was suddenly not just invested in the project I have mortgaged my heart for this role. 

After a day or so, I am wondering why I haven't been contacted. Why is it taking so long for them to make a decision. As fate would have it I see the director at another social function last night.  He says, "The calls went out and your name isn't on the list." So goes the heartbreak of show business, I didn't get the part.

It was not a part that I have been waiting all my life to play.  It was not a job that would have much of an impact on my career. In fact I thought I was doing my friend a favor for considering it. But to do the best audition you can you have to convince yourself that you are perfect for the role, and this job means everything. In essence you have to hand a group of producers your artistic heart only to have it returned, stamped "rejected".  Unfortunately there is no other way it can work.

There is a quote on my refrigerator attributed to Buddha, "In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you." 

I am gracefully moving on, but doubt that this experience will make the next one less painful.

As you were,

Jay

The Debate

I got home yesterday just in time to catch just the last of the live Internet streamed debate between Bill Nye "the science guy" and Ken Ham "the creationist guy".  It is still on line and here is a link to the complete debate if you are interested. (They said it would be up for a few days for viewers who didn't see it live)

The Live Debate.

I don't think it was a matter of who won or who lost the debate, what I loved about it was the civilized approach each man took.  Unlike Political debates there was no yelling, no personal attacks and no mean spirited comments.  It was a straight forward organized debate from two people who have radically different views on how the world came to be. 

In this world of athletic contests where we need to have a clear winner it is difficult for us to evaluate the results of an intellectual debate like this one. 

I am not a fan of Mr. Ham but thought he stated his beliefs with dignity and poise. However, in my opinion he was at a disadvantage because his "proof" was based on one book, the Bible. 

There are plenty of people who believe that no other book is necessary besides the Bible. I get that. I have several translations of the Bible, and by this time in my life I have read every chapter of the King James version. It is interesting reading and inspirational if viewed for what it is.  But there is no question as to the fact that the Bible is not a scientific text book.  Even Mr. Ham stated that for him the Bible is part metaphor, part poetry, part Jewish tradition, part genealogical history and mostly parable. He said he knew which part was which and the parts he believed to be fact were fact. That approach is certainly not a "scientific" approach. I am sure we would disagree on the parts of the Bible I consider poetry.

Trying to discover the origin of the earth from stories in the Bible is like trying to become a Shepard by reading only "Mary Had a Little Lamb" or singing "Old McDonald" believing it stated everything you needed to know about farming. 

Before I get a thousand nasty comments about comparing the Bible to Mother Goose, that is not what I am doing. I am not diminishing the value of the Bible, I am just saying that it is not imperial evidence of geology, history or origin of the species. Even books that do claim to be such evidence can be proven wrong with the next discovery or latest experiment. The fact that the Bible still seems relevant today is a testament to the metaphoric nature of its message. 

The Bible is a highly edited compilation of spoken word stories passed down through history. Plenty of stories were left out purposely and mostly for political reasons. While I think the Bible contains a lot of truth about the nature of man, it is certainly not a history of man.  It is mainly the history of the Jewish people and the struggles of that ancient tribe. While Moses is spending 40 years in the desert, China is a thriving culture on the other side of the globe with thousands of years of history. This historic fact is never mentioned in the Bible. 

The problems in the middle east can be reduced to one unsolvable disagreement. Jews and Christians believe that God "gave" a piece of real estate to a specific tribe. Other tribes that have shared that land for thousands of years disagree. The Bible is not a land grant document and God is not a real estate agent.

When white man came to America they paid the equivalent of $23 for the island of Manhattan. It was not that the Indians were bad business men therefore they sold Manhattan cheaply. It was the fact that the native Americans had no concept of "owning" land.  How could any human own land, or sky. It belonged to everyone for all to share. I think this is more in line with how I see an omnipotent, omniscient Diety.

On the other hand neither Bill Nye nor any other scientist can tell you why two sub atomic particles will either be attracted to each other or be repelled, but that becomes the very building block of life as science sees it. Who or what lit the fuse to set off the Big Bang? And scientist are obsessed to find the "unified field" which is the one element/process that connects all of the actions in the universe. They even call it "the God particle".  To me that is simply a scientific journey to find a universal creator.

This is the great thing about a civilized debate like we had last night. It makes us think about who we are and how we got here. If the question is should we teach science in school there is no question that we should.  There is also no question that philosophy should also be taught as well.  The two are not mutually exclusive just two different studies and each important to the development of a human.

In the words of Rodney King... "Can't we all just get along?"

As you were,

Jay

Not your usual convention.

It could have been any convention for any organization. After the "dealer's room" closed the bar began to fill up. As the attendees of the first ever KAX convention began to relax after a long day of demonstations, talks and presentations they could not help but talk shop.

"What would you do with Axtell's Moose puppet?" 

"I think I would keep the magnetic red nose on him and make him Rudolf."

"What I really liked was the new Zombie puppet Steve created."

"Yeah, don't you think that the floating Zombie is more of a puppet effect than a magic trick.  For me it takes a puppeteer to really give that illusion its punch."

At some point I noticed that most of the cocktail waitresses wearing some form of balloon sculpture on their bodies.  Not the standard poodle and dauchound balloon twists but intreicate braceletts, hats, necklaces, crowns and broches. Buster Balloons was in the house. Buster was sitting at the bar with a special canvas bag filled with thousands of dangling balloons of every color waiting to become a master piece.  In some alternate universe Buster is Toulouse lautrec creating master pieces out of latex for the salon crowd. 

If the subject of puppetry, magic, balloon twisting,ventriloquism or clowning came up, someone sitting near could be an expert witness on the subject. You want to talk stage back drops, sound systems, self cuing sound effects or a three card monte using Library cards this is the place to be.  Not the bar.... but the convention.

KAX the first ever midseason meeting of Kidabra, an organization started by Mark and Tami Daniels.  Kidabra is usually held only once a year at Piegon Forge, Tenn. but this extra attraction was added on the west coast. Kidabra is decicated to family/kids show performers and they are here to help entertainers on this side of the country.  The fact that Axtell Expressions is just up the street from the hotel where the convention is taking place is no coincidence.

Steve Axtell supplies a large percentage of puppets, props, mechanics and secrets to most of the people in attendance. In fact KAX is the conjunction of Kidabra and Axtell in Oxnard California. 

I am no stranger to the genius of Steve Axtell.  I perform with several of his creations two of which are part of my Tony Award winning show "Jay Johnson: The Two and Only." Nethernore and Arthur Drew are both Axtell Expression creations. When Steve said the Kidabra convention was coming to Oxnard, CA which is only about an hour drive from my house and he was going to conduct tours of his studio/workshop, I found a way to weasle my way in.  Little did I know that I would be able to witness a bit of retro-History.

I was able to get a picture of that moment. Mark Wilson one of the legends of Magic pictured here with René and his creation of the puppet of Pilsbury DoughBoy "Popin Fresh". With the puppetry of René giving him life Popin' interacted in real time with Mark on his early 70's television show Magic Circus.  For the puppet/magic/ live entertainment community the brain trust of creativity between Mark and René is as significant as the colaberation of Gilbert and Sullivan.  Both men now in their mid-eighties will perform at the Gala performance to cap off the convention tonight.  SuperBowl be damned this is the spectacle of the season.  I personally can't wait. It will not only be a reunion of Mark and René but also a family reunion of my partner Bob and his creator. See I get to MC the show with Bob and René is Bob's creator. 

Thank you Mark Daniels and Steve Axtell for the invitation. I hope you won't forget me next year. 

As you were,

Jay

The Artist and the Vent

 "Jay Johnson: The Two and Only", Is the story of my connection to Art Sieving, ventriloquist, artist, mentor and creator of my first vent figure "SQUEAKY". But Art is not the only person who has created puppets for me.

Kirk Thatcher

Long John LaFeat
Created by Kirk Thatcher

My act consists of puppets made by various artists, puppeteers and craftsman.  I believe each puppet character is as unique as the artists who created it. Recently I have been thinking about that relationship between ventriloquists and puppet maker. Like my connection to Art Sieving, I have a cosmic relationship with each one of those artists. For every "body" in my stage show there is an artist's saga to go with them. Here is one.

I was introduced to Kirk Thatcher by Brian Wright, a mutual artist friend. Kirk was still in high school, and I hired him to draw storyboards for a show I was pitching.  Artistically and creatively Kirk was three decades ahead of me even then.  Kirk was a wonderkin who could paint, draw, sculpt and animate just about anything his other worldly mind could conceive. He became my "go to guy" when I had some outrageous idea that could be visualized by Kirk's talents. He eventually would create three distinctive puppet characters for me.

The first was Log Chainey, a seven foot wooden monster and deranged psychopathic killer. Log Chainey was star of the Bubonic Players annual Halloween show presented at The Comedy and Magic Club. (I am looking for the pictures of Log Chainey and will publish them when I do.) To explain the illusion, Log Chainey is a body switch puppet that looks like a 7 foot tree monster in hospital scrubs and lab coat dragging me around stage like a rag doll.  The tree monster hates ventriloquists because they do wood jokes and breaks out of an asylum for the criminally insane each Halloween to terrorize me and the audience.

My second Thatcher creation was also constructed for a Bubonic Players Halloween Show, Long John LaFeat. Originally Long John was part of a beheading effect on stage with a very frightening guillotine. Long John was resurrected as a cast member of "Jay Johnson: The Two and Only" on Broadway. Although the execution is imagined in "The Two and Only" for the Bubonic show we actually did it. Kirk played the "Torso" of Long John for this performance and became an honorary member of the Bubonic players.  I have always thought Long John bears a striking resemblance to his creator.

Lastly Kirk created Ruben "Hick" Hickory, who is again a very large vent puppet. Hick was featured in an NBC special called "Harry Anderson's Sideshow" as an obnoxious rube sitting next to me in the bleachers of the mythical sideshow. As executive producer and co-writer of that show Hick became mine at the end of the production. 

I have been fortunate to work with a lot of wonderful artists in my life and career. Kirk has gone on to become a producer/writer of wonderful projects some with the Henson group. I am continually amazed at how his talents have not just grown as he grew up, but have excelled in an exponential way.

I asked Kirk if I could publish this and he was gracious enough to let me.

Thanks Kirk for your talents and your friendship. A puppet maker and the ventriloquist will always have a bond that is unlike any other friendship.

As you were,

Jay

Compelling or Comical?

I get tired of the "News". In fact I think the concept of a "news cast" like I grew up with has vanished.

It used to be events of the day would be gathered, researched and ultimately reported on the 6:00 news cast. The first thirty minutes was devoted to stories of local interest and then at 6:30 the local station would network to the National News, which was also 30 minutes long. 

No more. 24 hour news cycles and instant availability to video all over the world makes it a voyeuristic "peeping Tom" experience to poorly researched, over editorialized transmissions.  I just get tired of having current events manipulated as a bate and switch for prescription drug commercials.   

This is why I prefer to watch programs on the Discovery or History Channel.  I used to call the History Channel the "Hitler station" because there were so many stories of WWII, but those programs have now moved to the Military Channel.

Now the History Channel is full of Ancient Alien stories. I have to admit that the evidence is compelling to consider that ancient astronauts might have landed on Earth and been mis-interpreted by humans as gods or deities.  There are cave drawings that seem to depict strange creatures in the crude art.  And in fact the Aztec people thought that Coronado was an alien god when he arrive in South America.

So, given that an artist draws what he sees and had no reference for things that were out of his scope of knowledge, it would be easy to confuse an airplane with a bird.  A train was the iron horse to native Americans.  The idea that crude drawings of humans depicted on stone walls with strange animal heads could just be the interpretation of ancient artists fascinates me. Case in point.

The Hindu God Ganesha is a human creature with an elephants head.  Here is another artists drawing of that deity. 

Of course the godly image and myth has been refined, stylized and symbolized through the ages.  And the original drawings made with crude tools could not provide a lot of details from the original observer.

I wondered if an astronaut could be confused with this Hindu god.  I looked up several images of astronauts on line and found a couple that were interesting.  I drew my interpretation of what I saw and came up with my drawing on the right. I had modern pen and modern paper to work with while ancients had rock and stone, so my detail is more specific. But there could be an argument that they are similar.

I don't know. No one does. It isn't news.  It isn't a story on the latest global crisis to run in fear of. But I would rather spend my time wondering about this than what Justin Beiber is drinking or what Richard Sherman is saying. And most importantly, not once while I was creating my drawing did someone try to sell me a prescription drug to improve my life. 

As you were,

Jay