Aggravation Anxiety April Fool Bitchiness Bobby BP Burning in Hell Bush Calme au Blanc Catholic Church Charlotte Cushman Cobalt Blue Confusion Crime Daily Life Dangling Conversations Deep Thoughts Depravity Depression Divertissement Embarrassing Moments Family Friends Frozen Fun Gay Gertrude Stein and a Companion Glass Menagerie Good Things Government Gustav Hate Holidays Hope Hugging the Shoulder Humid City Humor Hurricanes Internets Jesus Justice Katrina Latrine Life in the Quarter Louisiana Mardi Gras Mark Rylance Movie Stars Music Nagin New Orleans News Nighthawks NOLA Partee Obits Our-Leaders-in-Their-Wisdom Outlaw City Personal Photography Pity Post Politics R I P Religion Retirement Righteous Shit Sadness Saints Search-Engine Crap Sex Sick Humor Silly Stuff Southern Decadence Striking Words Stupid Shit Take Me Out Tattoos Tennessee Williams The Human Comedy Theatre Thinking Blogger Award Thrill Me Treme Valhalla War Weekly Photo Challenge Weird Shit
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Anyway, we've been having auditions for the last two weeks, and I'm sitting here now wondering why people come out and read for parts in a play they have no real intention of doing?
Are they trying to make an impression?
If so, do they know what kind of impression they're making?
I mean these are people who came to us and read for us. They read well. We offered them roles. They turned them down.
Wait, though. Didn't I just audition for a play that I decided not to do?
Well, no, not exactly. I thought I was just going to a reading of a play.
It wasn't until a week or so later that someone called me and asked if I would agree to perform the part I'd read. I said yes because it was going to be produced early next year, and I didn't have any future prospects for that time.
They were offering me money, too, and I still have debts from those last three plays I did, so the money couldn't hurt.
But then someone offered me a different future (with pay!) for the same time period, and I couldn't turn it down 'cause it was the kind of future that I want and hope to have: directing, instead of acting.
So I had to tell the other people that I couldn't do their play because I had a conflict; and I know they hate me now, but that will change because New Orleans really is a small, small town, and we will all have to use each other again in some way, so we accommodate.
And, of course, I don't hate the actors who wasted my time and got my hopes up. I can't.
It's all in the timing.
But we're still not fully cast; which, when you think about it, is pretty common down here for the New Orleans theatrical way of life.
You've just got to keep that in mind and not get too worked up by fear or desperation.
Being old helps.
Old people know about priorities. Cancer or a heart attack are priorities. Actors are a dime a dozen.
Or less in today's economy.
Still, I'm sitting here thinking about it and not coming up with any reasons for why people do what they do.
I hate having to go through this kind of thought process.
I much prefer flashes of insight.