Well, I'm winging to Pittsburgh for my weekend full of rehearsals for Tony McKay's Father Figures, and I have to confess to having rather mixed feelings about the whole thing. Not doing the plays as much as this trip back to Pittsburgh. I've only been in New York for two weeks, and already I'm heading back. I can't escape this place. Maybe it won't let me go. At least this time I'm not paying for the trip!
We just climbed up out of La Guardia Airport, and the first officer just announced that the weather in Pittsburgh was winds of 50 miles per hour. I hope I didn't hear that right. I'm not sure I want to land in a place where the winds are at 50 miles an hour. That makes me all sorts of nervous.
So I had my audition for the City Theatre today, and I have to confess something: I think it was, if I may descend into vulgarity for a moment, a bit of a courtesy fuck. I happened to find out during the week that the part of the woman opposite whom I'd be playing if I got the job had already been cast, and I don't think that I "play" old enough to appear as her husband. That, combined with the fact that they called me mid-week to change the part for which I'd be reading, leads me to believe that they've also already cast the part I'd be "better suited" for. Actually, in my estimation, I could play either part, but at least in the part that's (I'm guessing) been cast, I wouldn't have had to match anyone for age.
Anyway, the audition itself went really well. I walked into the room, greeted the folks I knew from City, and met the director, who was very nice to me. Thinking that the person ushering me into the room had picked up my headshot, I hadn't brought it with me, which caused some momentary confusion for the director, but that was quickly rectified, and we jumped into the audition. I was a little more nervous than I'd have thought, and though I used the nervous energy well, it kinda changed the timber of my reading, I thought. But still, I was really pleased with my reading. And I'm usually not. I happen to think that I'm a great performer, but an awful auditioner. More than once I've thought about taking an audition class now that I'm in New York. 'Course, I have to get settled in and get a job first, so I can pay for an acting class.
So now I'm on my way home to Pittsburgh. It's my first time flying since September 11th, and though I'm not really nervous - you remember how much I love to fly - I can't help but think about what those passengers on those planes were going through. And on top of that, as I was sitting around waiting to leave for the weekend, I was watching Mike Wallace's The Twentieth Century on The History Channel, and what should be the topic but the crash of TWA Flight 800.... complete with the CIA-generated animation of what happened to the plane - how the front third of the aircraft was blown off by a fuel tank explosion, and how the rest of the airliner, with the sudden change in weight, suddenly shot up from 12,000 feet to 17,000 feet before the engines stalled, it rolled over and plunged into the sea. It took nearly a minute for it to fall out of the sky... and of course the mind can't help but wonder if anyone was alive in there for that. I have to believe that, at 17,000 feet, the air would have been too thin and anyone alive would have blacked out. At least I have to hope that.
Anywho, I need to sign off, as we're getting in to wind-swept Pittsburgh and I have to assume the crash position. Wish me luck. (Of course, if this actually gets uploaded to the internet, you'll know that I've survived to do so, so all the drama's lost, isn't it?)
We just climbed up out of La Guardia Airport, and the first officer just announced that the weather in Pittsburgh was winds of 50 miles per hour. I hope I didn't hear that right. I'm not sure I want to land in a place where the winds are at 50 miles an hour. That makes me all sorts of nervous.
So I had my audition for the City Theatre today, and I have to confess something: I think it was, if I may descend into vulgarity for a moment, a bit of a courtesy fuck. I happened to find out during the week that the part of the woman opposite whom I'd be playing if I got the job had already been cast, and I don't think that I "play" old enough to appear as her husband. That, combined with the fact that they called me mid-week to change the part for which I'd be reading, leads me to believe that they've also already cast the part I'd be "better suited" for. Actually, in my estimation, I could play either part, but at least in the part that's (I'm guessing) been cast, I wouldn't have had to match anyone for age.
Anyway, the audition itself went really well. I walked into the room, greeted the folks I knew from City, and met the director, who was very nice to me. Thinking that the person ushering me into the room had picked up my headshot, I hadn't brought it with me, which caused some momentary confusion for the director, but that was quickly rectified, and we jumped into the audition. I was a little more nervous than I'd have thought, and though I used the nervous energy well, it kinda changed the timber of my reading, I thought. But still, I was really pleased with my reading. And I'm usually not. I happen to think that I'm a great performer, but an awful auditioner. More than once I've thought about taking an audition class now that I'm in New York. 'Course, I have to get settled in and get a job first, so I can pay for an acting class.
So now I'm on my way home to Pittsburgh. It's my first time flying since September 11th, and though I'm not really nervous - you remember how much I love to fly - I can't help but think about what those passengers on those planes were going through. And on top of that, as I was sitting around waiting to leave for the weekend, I was watching Mike Wallace's The Twentieth Century on The History Channel, and what should be the topic but the crash of TWA Flight 800.... complete with the CIA-generated animation of what happened to the plane - how the front third of the aircraft was blown off by a fuel tank explosion, and how the rest of the airliner, with the sudden change in weight, suddenly shot up from 12,000 feet to 17,000 feet before the engines stalled, it rolled over and plunged into the sea. It took nearly a minute for it to fall out of the sky... and of course the mind can't help but wonder if anyone was alive in there for that. I have to believe that, at 17,000 feet, the air would have been too thin and anyone alive would have blacked out. At least I have to hope that.
Anywho, I need to sign off, as we're getting in to wind-swept Pittsburgh and I have to assume the crash position. Wish me luck. (Of course, if this actually gets uploaded to the internet, you'll know that I've survived to do so, so all the drama's lost, isn't it?)
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