What's real and what's imagined...

Have you ever... Don't you just love that statement? Have you ever been loved? Have you ever been kissed? Have you ever found money on the street? Have you ever thought you were so God awful that you were surprised people stood for you when the show was over? OK, that last one may not include all of you. But you get the drift. In the end we're not going to take a walk down nostalgia lane. No. Instead we're going to talk about "feeling." The dreaded F-word. Because "have you ever" always leads us into feeling land and feeling land always leads us into trouble.

Feelings direct us to go after the girl... or in most cases feelings direct us to not go for the girl. Feelings run how we think we are in social settings and dictate how we then beat the hell out of ourselves in the privacy of our own home later that evening. Feelings run us into safe decisions much like a strong current runs a boat into the shoals. Feelings will talk you out of taking the chance that will change your life forever. Feelings leave you sitting at home on your couch watching TV and your life go by instead of going to the restaurant to meet up with the girl who so obviously was into you and wanted you to meet up with her even though she just met you. Ah, feelings.

So, what do we do with these feelings? Good questions. The best answer would be to ignore them. But how? How? How, indeed.

Anthony Hopkins once said that he drank to quiet the voices that told him he'd never be as good as Guilgood. Then he quit drinking. Upon hearing that someone asked him, "what do you do now to quiet the voices?" He said, and I quote, "I turn to them and tell them to piss of!" Those voices are our everyday feelings. Those voices we all have. And anyone who says they don't have those voices is a lying sack of shit and should be summarily shot.

Perhaps a little extreme? I don't think so. People run by feelings are left in a static and safe world. That world will never produce a great piece of art. Do you really think Picasso or Rembrandt or Pollock or Stravinsky were run by their feelings? Beethoven? Yeah, he was run by that little middle class voice telling him to keep quiet and not do anything to disrupt the neighbors. Sure he was.

Now, if these guys - these regular men like you and me - could do it, then why can't we? There's nothing extraordinary about them except they tapped their talent. And, in the case of Pollock, forgot to take his medication. There is real genius is all o us. Including the guy who's still sitting on his couch and watching his life go by. His genius is wasted. Wasted in the battery acid corrosiveness of feelings.

Why do I feel the need to bring this up? Because I learn every time I perform in my show that if I were to be run by how I felt then I would be a miserable curmudgeon with no friends and would, no doubt, be hastening myself to an early grave... or at least a perforated ulcer. I think I'm terrible. But it doesn't matter what I think. It doesn't matter what I feel. What matters is the effect I have on the audience and the experience they have. That is my gift to them. And to cloud that gift with the bullshit of my feelings is to say "fuck you for liking what I did!" What? I decided to be an actor to make my self feel comfortable? Yeah, no. I don't think so.

Take this from me. What you think of yourself and what you feel of yourself doesn't matter. In fact, it gets in the way. Just do. And continue to do. The more you do the closer you'll be to what you want. Uh huh. That's right. Actions speak louder than feelings and feelings cloud the result of your life's work. So say it with me and say it loud "FUCK YOUR FEELINGS!"

And if you're lucky, the dream being stifled by the fear associated with taking a chance will spring forward with great power and you'll actually be happy. God forbid happiness.

Well, guess what? Happiness is a by product of achievement. So achieve little grasshopper. Go forth and conquer.

sitting in my hallway

As my roommate edits a classmate's demo reel I have found myself sitting in my hallway in order to have some semblance of peace to write this entry. A long overdue entry.

I think today is the birthday of a college classmate of mine. At least that's what Plaxo tells me. If I didn't have electronic devices to remind me of birthdays and anniversaries and God knows what else I'd no doubt walk around in a constant state of ignorance. And not the kind that creates a sense of bliss. Ignorance is an interesting topic. Do we really believe that there is a state of ignorance or is it that those who appear to be ignorant are just stupid? Or fully aware and unwilling to act? My teacher says you are unable to handle that which you are unable to see. So, we live with the alcoholic for 25 years and then one day he or she gets hit by a car when driving home from the bar and we say "I never knew s/he drank so much." Or you see that battered wife who lives next door and you know that one day the mad man she lives with is going to go too far, yet she only sees the good in him. An unwillingness to confront. Confront is hard. It means there is a responsibility that must be taken and who in America really wants to take responsibility for their actions? Not too many.

I'm not the overly political kind. I don't really want to get involved - an unwillingness that I am fully aware of - but someone please tell me how the great God fearing masses of people living in the greater contiguous United States cannot see what is going on around them. In the last 6 or so years we Americans have become hated by just about everyone and we Americans have garnered statistics worthy of third world countries. Who wants to talk about the educational ratings of our children and our children's schools? Anyone? Oh, and who wants to talk about the government that openly spies on its people, takes away their freedoms and plays God with the rest of the world; the gas prices going up so fast that being able to own a car will no longer be viable for the majority of people living here with no end in sight for the rise. At what price will the American people finally say that's enough? $4 a gallon? $6 a gallon? $12.50 a gallon? 'Cause I hate to say it, but if the oil companies have their way the cost will continue to rise. There is no stopping it as long as their buddies are running the show. And, ladies and gentlemen, their buddies are running the show.

That's what's been done in the last 6 years. The last 6 years. Think about it. What's been done cannot be undone so easily. It will take a man or woman far greater than is willing to run for office to solve our situation. And why? Because they don't hold up to the scrutiny of slander and background checks, the smear tactics that will be engaged upon and the unfortunate task of having to rebuild and the necessary, but unlikely, need to apologize for our actions.

But what would happen if there is someone willing to do that? Would we, the great God fearing masses, be sentient enough to vote for them? Would we be able bodied enough to look past the foibles of their past? Well, I hope so. We tried to crucify Clinton for having sex, but we rallied behind Bush for war. Violence is always more appealing than sex. We chided and mocked Clinton for smoking pot, but we conveniently forgot that Bush was a cocaine addict. Double standards. What would happen if the best person for the job came 'round? Would we know it? Would we be willing to take the stand necessary to, and I repeat, apologize for our imperialism? I hope so.

I truly believe in my heart of hearts that there is a way to make a change. I truly believe that there are people out there with the sole purpose of creating a better place to live. We need to seek them out and support them. For if we don't the world will get darker, hotter and, inevitably, barren of all that is light and good. We are well on our way to an apocalypse of biblical proportions. Anyone want to get off this crazy thing? I think when presented with the opportunity we'd prefer to get off, but only - I repeat ONLY - if we are willing to open our eyes and confront what is in front of us. Not tomorrow. Not later. Not next week. Not when someone else chooses to go first. Now. Do something for another and not for yourself. That's how you make the change. Small actions that lead to bigger actions.

So, while I sit here in my hall with my cats lounging around me, my roommate in the other room editing someone else's reel and the rest of the world living their lives in quiet desperation I hope that someone reads this and says "I think there is a possibility for change." Maybe you'll become a Scientologist. Maybe you'll seek out your local Boys and Girls club and sign on to be a mentor. Maybe you'll seek out a soup kitchen and volunteer. Maybe you'll look into something you have prejudice about and seek to learn something new. Maybe you'll wake up just a little bit and see that you are not powerless and that you have the ability to effect that which goes on around you.

Change is possible. Are you willing?

So, while my computer hums ever so slightly and tells me I'm late for a design job or acting class or the audition that will change my life I have to reflect on the fact that everything comes down to me and what choices I make. Know this: if you don't take an action and you remain passive you are in agreement with it and condoning it - whatever the "it" may be.

Do something to shock yourself. Do something for someone else. Do something to change your world. Do something today.

Ode to the middle of the night

It's late. About four hours ago I was distracted from watching the tivoed grey's anatomy season finale by choppers overhead. the persistant wurring of the rotars and the follow light passing over my house made me wonder. "Again with the criminals in my neighborhood?" that's right, I said again.

The first night i moved in here a guy got arrested on my street. He was just walking down the road bathed in a pool of searing white light - the kind that almost looks blue. And then, as if devinely directed, two police cars silently screamed up to the side of the road and out of the first car shot two police officers, very angry gun-toting. boy, oh boy. I sure did feel safe.

Now since then, up until tonight, it has been onyl the constant wurring of ghetto birds disrupting my slumbers, my tv watching, my cooking (rarely at that) and my daily goings on. Yeah, i feel safe.

Oh, and I saw an ex of mine on tv tonight and she looked really good. damn. It would have been easier if she didn't, but she did. Such is life.

So my ode to the middle of the night is this:

darkness fall, but lay thy self carefully
distrub not the slumbering masses
for when we see that you are not who you say you are
we know that the end is near.

What begins shall end
what ends will inevitably begin
only without the persistent ticking the clock cannot join
the unceremonious march to the bathing bright white light.

remember to lock your doors 'cause the next guy rounding the corner may not be bearing gifts that you want to partake in. Or maybe you do, I don't know what turns you on.

Turn ons. There's one to talk about.

Again it's 3 am. I am not sleeping. why should I. that just means i have to get up in the morning and face my day. Man, I really don't want to have to face my day. That means i have to take resposibility and create something. Which I will do. i secretly look forward to it. Don't tell anyone. Not that anyone's reading this.

So I do it for me – much like masterbation. But I still do it for me.

The truth is...

I have no idea. I'm an actor. Yes. I live in Los Angeles and I'm an actor. Get over it. And I'm one of the rare ones, a working actor. Watch me on the season finale of CSI and in the show The Tenth Man at the Skylight Theatre. OK, enough with the shameless self-promotion.

Here's the thing. If you're a banker and you do a good job you know it right away because you sell something and your revenue goes up. Sure, there are long term situations that don't yield right away, but for the most part - I'm going to go out on a limb here - gratification is rather immediate. If you do poorly, you'll know it right away because you'll no doubt be sacked if the poorness continues.

Almost to my point: An actor is the product as well as the one dealing with the success or failure of the product. Or, you might say, he is the vacuum and the vacuum cleaner salesman; The CEO, CFO, marketing department, et al all the way down to the janitor – 'cause no one's cleaning up after him so he might as well be cleaning up after himself.

Now my point: Today I did a show, a show I am quite good in - not my assessment exclusively, I got that from the audience as well. Yet, while doing it I thought I was more like a steaming pile of turd until the last moment. The last moment I know was good. George Lucas said as long as the thing starts well and ends well you can get away with just about anything in between. At least I think George Lucas said that. Who cares really, my view of my performance was not that of the audience and I need to get over it. Who cares what I think. No one. It doesn't matter. What matters is the effect I had, you had, he had, she had, who-the-fuck-ever had on the audience. That's where the money’s at. People cried. I affected them. I'm good. People didn't cry. I didn't affect them. I'm bad. Not exactly, but that is what seems to go on in this neurotic Jew's head.

And... scene. So what's the lessen? If there is a lessen? The truth is as elusive as a snow cone in Death Valley. You know it’s there, but fuck me if I can find it.

Talent is what talent does. I don’t care how talented you are or aren’t. If you don’t do something with it then you might as well not have it. If you have it, flaunt it. If you flaunt it than right on.

I seem to have moved on away from my point – not that there really was one to begin with. This is a blog. And, more specifically, it’s my blog so you really are getting the incoherent ramblings of, something.

I leave you with a line from a song, a song by Glen Phillips:
We moved to LA, it’s just a regular city dropped from a great height.

Next week, or tomorrow or even later today we’ll be taking up the concept of community and what it means to… uh… well... me.

I assure you, at some point these will make sense and you’ll think “wow, he’s got a strong view point on that” or “wow, what a horses ass” or “wow, I never thought of it just that way” or “damn this guy deserves his own series so he’s too busy to pollute the internet with his banal pontificating on the state of tree growth in the great North West.” OK that last one you won’t think. But I can bring in an expert who will do the pontificating for me.

Take care sweet angels and realize that life isn’t as bad as we think it is. That’s just us complicating it for the sake of complicating it and thinking that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Breathe and you’ll feel a lot better. But if you’re going to be breathing for prolonged stretches, you might want to get a surgical mask.

this is just the beginning

Well, here we are. What will follow will no doubt be written sometime between 1 and 4 am and will no doubt be dealing with my views on politics, religion, current affiars, the middle east, and what I had for lunch – or didn't have for lunch depending on the day. What sets this blog aside from others is the simple fact I am completely unifmormed and pretty much all I know is what I hear from my friends and what I see on TV. So, with that said, enjoy the intricate workings of my mind and be prepared to have my view point presented in a rambling manner much like the acid trip you never had – or did have and wished you didn't.

And please forgive the spelling errors. That's just the way it goes.

IT'S MOTHER'S DAY – Hallmark's way of saying call your mom and buy our crap. So, call your mom and buy fun cards that have old wrinkly women on them doing funny things and being obnoxious.