An Audition

Perhaps inspired by Noel, my actor friend in L.A., I had some free time (remember Satre tells us nothing is free), so I trekked across the cityscape to audition at a Talent Agency. It was quite the Colonel Kurtz experience, traveling the snaky EL line into the bowels of the City, walking down the broken boulevards, taking in the mad bustle of a midwestern city on the make. Chicago really does have it all, and on an unseasonably hot and sunny day, it is resplendant, a sight for sore eyes.

I made it to my appointment on time. I was prepped and sweaty. I entered the office space, there were two nice-looking women waiting ahead of me. I had a monologue ( a bit from one of my plays), and a song (an old whaling song I learned from when I saw Arlo Gutherie and Pete Seeger at Ravinia about 30 years ago). I was carrying a headshot ( a recent picture - I look kind of like a fractured, smiling gent on the far side of a slow decline) and my acting resume (heavy with my own work with with my own theater company, doing my own stuff, very much on my own).

So, I got in there, (a little office with a chair for the actor and a couch for the agents) and there were two women waiting for me to do my thing. The two ladies were kind of stone-faced, bored, it looked like you could put sticks of dynamite under their asses and well, nothing was gonna impress them one bit. I was strangely nervous (I mean it was strange to me - I had actually nothing riding on this audition - I mean, if I got something out of it, I would really be surprised) and for one brief moment, before I started, I blanked, I mean, nothing was in my head, I didn't know my name, rank, serial number, much less my monologue or song.

I took a moment to "prepare." It was a nice pregnant dramatic pause and then the monologue came out in a torrent. Maybe not my best effort, but it was lively, dynamic, short and sweet. Then I did the song, a ridiculous old tune about a sailor named Ruben Ramso. I finished, and well, there was a brief and akward silence. Then they thanked me and I was out of there.

Kind of a strange process. Anyway, I headed back home, a little lighter, a little unsteady, kind of wondering to myself, just what did I think I was doing with myself, with my life...? And well, I don't really have an answer...I arrived, I said some words, I left...I walked these particular streets, and I rode this particular train, and well...that's about all there is to the story...