What a week!
I’m not even saying that in the typical way people say that, preceded by a big sigh, as if theirs was the hardest struggle to bear. “What a week! The twister blew the crops away and now we won’t have any food until harvest, save for the last few broken jars of pickles and whatever roadkill Pa finds on the way to the breadline, but sure, we’ll come to your potluck funeral.”
I say what a week in the opposite sense, as in “Something great happened!” You know, the way hardly anyone uses it anymore.
Before I get too far, I should point out that technically, when I say “what a week” I mean “what a great two weeks.” I’m compressing for the sake of storytelling, the same way all your friends [me] and family [also me] should do but won't.
Have you ever been at a bar seated next to somebody on the phone and listened/eavesdropped to them yammer on about some insane story that could have been condensed into one sentence, and all you could think was you wish you hadn’t had that last drink last night and when oh god when is that waiter coming back with your “Champagne” which you’re pretty sure is Prosecco [barf], which you’re pretty sure got you into this hungover mess in the first place, and will that guy [me] ever shut up?
That’s what I’m doing here. I’m condensing. It’s called brevity, people. Which, now that I read the entire preceding paragraph, I realize I didn't exactly nail.
So anyway, what a wonderful last TWO weeks!
On Monday, Claire, a casting director, emailed me with two questions: one, could I sent in a self-tape audition for a commercial job for a major insurance carrier [nbd 💁♀️] and two, who was I auditioning through now that my agency had imploded.
This was odd. Casting directors almost never speak directly to actors. We're usually referred to as "talent"—industry jargon for "meat"—and are spoken to through a complex orchestra of agents and agents’ assistants [mostly the latter]. While I could forgive you for thinking this arrangement was for the meat's benefit, it's entirely for its protection. You see, meats do stupid things when we're they’re on the phone or on set and someone asks them an important question about contracts or clothing sizes or would they mind hopping onto the casting couch and let’s try the scene without pants, shall we?
Case in point, my new agency's welcome letter [spoiler alert] instructs new clients that "if you receive a call directly from a...casting director...refer [them] to us and let us know immediately. Do not agree to anything without speaking to your agent. If you speak to anyone directly you’ll embarrass yourself and the agency, Meat." Okay, maybe the last part I made up. But the point is: the only words casting directors usually say to talent is “next!” and “never come back.”
But back to the email. I said yes, I’d love to audition and no, I haven’t yet found a new agent.
Claire said she’d think of an agency to refer me to [total wench]. I said “thanks” but thought, “Surrrre.”
On Tuesday I sent her the self tape.
Wednesday I got a callback—an industry acknowledgment of “you didn’t shit the bed on the audition.”
Thursday, I attended the callback.
Friday—drumroll please!—I learned I didn’t book the role. (This happens A LOT and can often come down to such trivial things as “you look like our last guy,” “we need someone less fat,” or “yuck.”)
But Monday is when things really got weird. That's when Claire emailed and said an agent wanted to meet with me.
What? Are you insane? That someone would actually say they'd do something is wild enough. But for them to actually follow through on that?!? Look, I’m no saint either—I say I’ll send out this newsletter every Monday but will often skip a week or two [six months] here and there—but it still surprised me.
So I had the meeting. And we agreed to work together. And I’m once again thankful I have someone in my corner making sure I don’t agree to doing any [more] auditions without pants.
And despite what you might think—that this whole email was meant to showcase the fact that I work with people with such interesting titles as casting director, agent, and meat—I mention these people because they’re teaching me a lesson: it’s so easy to help someone, why don’t I do it more often?
But anyway.
What a week.
Sigh.
Upcoming Shows
June 21, 2024 - Massilon, OH - Krackpots Comedy Club
June 22, 2024 - New York, NY - Yotel
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What I’m Eating
Spinach Pesto. This stuff is SO good it got me back on YouTube. Check out the recipe here and the YouTube video here.
Proof of Life
This is me after getting caught in a rainstorm. Have you ever been so wet you needed to change your underwear before you went to bed? [Don’t answer that…]
Chow!
Anthony