Sunday, July 25, 2004
Week 100 - Dave's B-Day
Ladies and Gentlemen, it's official. I am XX years old. As I ruminate on my
quarter century of underachieving on this planet, it occurs to me that I've
really only learned two things:
1) beans, beans, good for the heart, and;
2) beans, beans, good for the mind
To update you: it is with great excitement that I report to you that I have
been asked to join the staff of Ensemble Studio Theatre's Summer Conference
at Lexington. I am currently in the middle of a five week stretch wherein
it is my great pleasure to assist the likes of playwright Romulus Linney
(father of film star Laura Linney), actress Deborah Hedwall (Uta Hagen's
protégé) and writer Chris Regan (from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart) as
well as EST greats Jamie Richards, Chris Ceraso and Curt Dempster. While
these names may mean nothing to you, this is not my fault. If you weren't
such a wanker, you'd be excited for me, Danny.
My daily schedule at the camp has gone something like this:
7:45 am Rise and Shine (yes, I actually get up for this)
8:00 am breakfast prep
9-10 am serve breakfast
10-12 - acting workshop
12-1 lunch prep
1-2 serve lunch
2-5 acting workshop
5-6 dinner prep
6-7 serve dinner
7-11 acting workshop
11-1 a.m. (or 2 a.m., or 4 a.m., or sometimes 6a.m.) party at the bonfire
Under these conditions it is impossible not to grow like a weed - acting 8
hours a day with some of the best teachers in the city - what's not to love?
I have also learned:
1) How to crack eggs one-handed;
2) That the word 'spatula' can ruin an otherwise good joke;
3) Washing 100 plates a day isn't boring when the other guy (or girl) in the
kitchen is mooning you.
It's difficult to describe what camp is like - I've made more friends at the
camp in three weeks then I've made in the city in the last year.
For example, last year I made four friends. OK, I take it back. I made
three friends and one acquaintance.
8 million people in New York, I've made friends with four of them. Clearly,
I am pacing myself. I am a pacer, like the Indiana Pacers, for which I do
not play, but feel a special kinship. Eight million people and I can't meet
anyone. We're all flying past each other at nine million miles an hour. No
'please' no 'thank you' just a healthy dose of 'the was MY cab, asshole' and
'you want weed?' (I get asked this regularly.)
In the bad news category, the movie I was planning to shoot with Proctor
this summer fell apart when Pookie realized the money he was going to use to
make the movie was in a trust account he can't get access to until he's 25.
I told him I was glad he checked on that.
In the good news column, the guy who's mooning me at work says he might be
able to introduce me to a literary agent. The girl who's mooning me at
work says she might be able to send my pilot script to some producer pals of hers in LA.
And I got a letter in the mail today from a woman at Tor books (the biggest sci-fi
publisher in the world) who is interested in seeing my latest manuscript.
Solid gold, baby. Solid gold. I've only been submitting to her for nine
years now. Maybe one day I will call her friend. ¶ 9:32 PM
quarter century of underachieving on this planet, it occurs to me that I've
really only learned two things:
1) beans, beans, good for the heart, and;
2) beans, beans, good for the mind
To update you: it is with great excitement that I report to you that I have
been asked to join the staff of Ensemble Studio Theatre's Summer Conference
at Lexington. I am currently in the middle of a five week stretch wherein
it is my great pleasure to assist the likes of playwright Romulus Linney
(father of film star Laura Linney), actress Deborah Hedwall (Uta Hagen's
protégé) and writer Chris Regan (from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart) as
well as EST greats Jamie Richards, Chris Ceraso and Curt Dempster. While
these names may mean nothing to you, this is not my fault. If you weren't
such a wanker, you'd be excited for me, Danny.
My daily schedule at the camp has gone something like this:
7:45 am Rise and Shine (yes, I actually get up for this)
8:00 am breakfast prep
9-10 am serve breakfast
10-12 - acting workshop
12-1 lunch prep
1-2 serve lunch
2-5 acting workshop
5-6 dinner prep
6-7 serve dinner
7-11 acting workshop
11-1 a.m. (or 2 a.m., or 4 a.m., or sometimes 6a.m.) party at the bonfire
Under these conditions it is impossible not to grow like a weed - acting 8
hours a day with some of the best teachers in the city - what's not to love?
I have also learned:
1) How to crack eggs one-handed;
2) That the word 'spatula' can ruin an otherwise good joke;
3) Washing 100 plates a day isn't boring when the other guy (or girl) in the
kitchen is mooning you.
It's difficult to describe what camp is like - I've made more friends at the
camp in three weeks then I've made in the city in the last year.
For example, last year I made four friends. OK, I take it back. I made
three friends and one acquaintance.
8 million people in New York, I've made friends with four of them. Clearly,
I am pacing myself. I am a pacer, like the Indiana Pacers, for which I do
not play, but feel a special kinship. Eight million people and I can't meet
anyone. We're all flying past each other at nine million miles an hour. No
'please' no 'thank you' just a healthy dose of 'the was MY cab, asshole' and
'you want weed?' (I get asked this regularly.)
In the bad news category, the movie I was planning to shoot with Proctor
this summer fell apart when Pookie realized the money he was going to use to
make the movie was in a trust account he can't get access to until he's 25.
I told him I was glad he checked on that.
In the good news column, the guy who's mooning me at work says he might be
able to introduce me to a literary agent. The girl who's mooning me at
work says she might be able to send my pilot script to some producer pals of hers in LA.
And I got a letter in the mail today from a woman at Tor books (the biggest sci-fi
publisher in the world) who is interested in seeing my latest manuscript.
Solid gold, baby. Solid gold. I've only been submitting to her for nine
years now. Maybe one day I will call her friend. ¶ 9:32 PM
