I wish I could say my blogging absence was prolonged by a recent trip to Bali or something, but, no, I've just been really busy. I had the occasional fleeting thought to blog, but nothing came to me that was worth typing. Then I remembered that was hardly my specialty anyway. So screw it, let's blog, baby!
You know what I love? I love being wrong. I love the constant evolution of taste and opinion. For instance, I didn't discover olives until I was maybe 28 years old. And now? Love em. Devour them. Praise olives, I say! I also got a shirt for Christmas that I was not altogether taken with at first. I didn't think it was a color I would feel comfortable wearing. And now that summer has arrived, my fashion sense has thusly warmed and I am having to discipline myself to wear this shirt just often enough that it is not considered a uniform. I can be a man of strong opinions and convictions, most often on topics that are massively insignificant and/or annoying to others. I get great delight from looking back at a past proclamation, a real fist-shaking moment, and realizing I was just wrong. Some other things I was wrong about:
--Owen Wilson. Not willing to celebrate his entire catalog, but I now realize he's a good actor and can be quite endearing in the right role. I don't know who might have been better in "Midnight in Paris."
--Hefeweizen beer. Still not my favorite. Still not something I will opt for often. Yet I am willing to admit that, on a hot summer's day when beer may be imbided, it has its place. I favor Widmer over Pyramid or even Paulaner.
--Bon Ivar's "For Emma, Forever Ago." I'm pretty sure I railed against this album. I remember I was put off by the fact that no one could talk about it without mentioning the cute little story about how he holed up in a winter cabin and did the album himself. I think that maybe soured me a little and then the often unintelligible lyrics and falsetto just put it over the edge. All that stuff is still true, but I've come to really enjoy the album. There are some great melodies, which is the most important thing to me in music anyway.
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You want to know what the most maddening sound in the world is? Silence. Not across the board, of course. Believe me, I value silence as much as anybody and believe we need a lot of more it these days. No, the silence I speak of is very specific. My desk at work sits in a sort of bullpen area shared by my two female coworkers and an empty desk. Back in the old days, we had a grand old time. All day long, we laughed, we argued--we talked. I don't know what happened but these days I may as well be sitting here alone. That would be okay, actually. If there were no one sitting five feet away from me, I would not expect conversation or acknowledgement of existence. However, when there are two people within 49 sq ft of me but neither of them utter 6 words all day, it drives me insane. They both put their little earbuds in and are lost in their own worlds, worlds that are only connected to each other via Instant Messenger. What are they giggling about? I have no friggin' idea. Do I really want to know? Not particularly, but I do think it's rude to carry on as such. You would at least expect that if I initiate a conversation, I would get something back, right? Even if it's a brush off, you would expect that they would at bare minimum say SOMETHING. Wrong. "What are you guys doing for lunch?" Silence. "How was your lunch?" Silence. "After sitting on hold for the last 15 minutes, they just disconnected me. Can you believe that?" UTTER, FRICKIN' SILENCE! I know it's not personal. I know they are not purposely ignoring me due to a grudge of some sort. I honestly don't think they think of me enough at all to muster such feelings. It's like the old saying about how the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference. Well, I believe that to be true and their silence is a screaming torrent of indifference. I am starting to learn to cope, but it's a struggle.
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And now for the Acting Report.....It's going well. Still having a ball, still taking classes, still working on it. I'd like to think I've made some real progress, but I couldn't say for sure. What am I saying, of course I have. But it is very frustrating because it's a series of small successes followed by failures. And I'm just talking in terms of feeling like you did what you wanted to do in the scence, etc. I thought I had some nice momentum going into this week's class, but then I totally blew it. I was nervous because we had "industry guests" so I was all fired up and over-prepared and just choked, basically. As frustrating as it is though, it is not truly disheartening because every failure really is a learning experience and I always feel the desire to keep working until I get it right. Unfortunately, I don't always get the opportunity to go again because, alas, there are other people in the class too. Anywho, I just started in the "advanced" class which is arbitrary but something, I guess. I've got another class beginning Sunday so then I will have this going four nights a week again at two different places so I should really be rockin' it, so to speak. I also just got my first headshots last weekend. It's a small thing, but it was a big deal for me because that has, for some reason, always been a mental block for me. Maybe I never allowed myself to do it because that would be a way of saying I am really doing this, I am really hanging my balls out there. I think I was afraid to do that. Well, here I am now, balls out.
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My mood these last couple days has been indomitably sunny. Coworkers stone wallin' me? Let 'em keep their earbuds in; that just means I can play my music louder! I did two solid hours of Billy Joel yesterday and I was lovin' life, my friends. The skies are blue, the birds are chirping, the flowers are receiving their due smelling. Add in the music and wine and I am just happy, I tell ya.
I am planning to ride this Spartan spirit straight on through a beautiful 4th of July weekend. My playlists shall abound at parties and home time both! I can almost hear the Bruce(!), smell the BBQ, taste the beer, and feel the sun and pool as we speak. Not to mention Fireworks. I make my return to Vets Stadium this year, hosted by the good ol' Long Beach Fire Department. Their DJ can't be counted upon anymore though so I'll bring my own Lee Greenwood.
Bless you, my friends! Cheers! U-S-A!
