Stephen Tobolowsky is the poor man's M. Emmett Walsh...

...although the gap on this one is closing fast.

Philosophical question: are there any other animals on the planet (other than Man) that knowingly and openly lies to one another?

I rented Stephen Tobolowsky's Birthday Party on DVD the other day. I really wanted to like it more than I did. For those of you who don't know what this is, it's the A+ character actor telling stories about people, places, events in his life. Pure and simple. All this takes place at his home while he prepares for, and then celebrates his birthday party with friends. I enjoyed the stories he told directly to the camera, rather than the ones he "performed" for his audience of guests. Too much actor-y nonsense going on there. But when he engages with you (or the camera) it feels much more intimate, more personal. On the ol' Netflix I gave this 3 stars. I'm thinking of sending this to my folks and telling them to watch the acting/audition stories so they can get a better idea of what I actually do for a living. Booking the commercial is nice, but my job is auditioning, and boy howdy...there's some strange people I work for sometimes.

Gil Gerard is the poor man's Lee Majors

One of the main reasons I want to be a successful actor on the TV is to help bring back, and participate in, Battle of the Network Stars.

I'm not kidding.

And I wasn't being funny when I said "I'm not kidding."



Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and no matter what your celebration entails, just know this. It's the best holiday around.
Christmas is too stressful.
Halloween is for amateurs.
Depending on where you live, you can't get your hands on any explosives for Fourth of July.

But Thanksgiving is the greatest because it is all about eating. It's is the most American of holidays. Except for the original Americans. I love just about everything Thanksgiving promotes: gluttony, sloth and random outbursts of swearing at the Dallas Cowboys (I really hate them).

Each year, the Poor Woman and I celebrate Thanksgiving twice. On the actual day, we do a little volunteering, spend the rest of the day doing this and that and then have a small meal at home. But a few weeks before the blessed day, we hold what has become an annual tradition: "The Turkey Test Run."

It all started years ago when my folks came to visit me and the wife (back when she was the girlfriend). She had never met them before, and they were arriving on Thanksgiving day...at 5pm.

Just in time for dinner.

And they're extremely picky eaters. (If it ain't processed food, they ain't eating it.)

So, wanting to make sure everything went off without a hitch (we'd never made a turkey dinner at this apartment), we threw a test run dinner a few weeks before. We invited friends, and asked them to bring booze. We'd be cooking up everything with all the trimmings. It was a low-key affair (translation: no family = nobody gets drunk and cries about their crappy lives).

We enlisted our good friend, Miss D, to help us out, and she brought along a family recipe for something called "carrot mold." It is by far the greatest tasting thing in the world, especially when mixed on the plate with my chipotle sweet potatoes...but I digress.

The meal went off without a hitch. The 6 or so people there had a great time. We were able to get all the ingredients we wanted at the store with no hassle because no one was celebrating Thanksgiving on the first weekend of November. It was sublime.

Then Thanksgiving came. We got everything my family wanted, cooked it up just right. They arrived (late), and barely touched their food.

Since then Turkey Test Run has gone on to host fantastic meals of up to 17 people. This year was a pot-luck, with all of our friends bringing family recipes. I was in heaven once again. Best holiday ever.


Related to nothing...
When I was a kid I wanted this:


I got this:


which made me feel like this:

Writers are the poor man's...well, writers ain't rolling in dough

So I'm at this radio audition today. Now for the amount of success I've had on camera, I'm pretty much The Washington Generals when it comes to talking into a microphone. It's a mental block, but one that isn't helping to put money on the table or food in the bank.

Anyway, I'm at this audition, and I look around and see a few great character actors in the lobby.
This guy
This gal

Then I turn around and see this guy (sans moustache).

John Scurti. A hell of an actor and writer, to boot.

Now if you've read any of this blog you know how much character actors mean to me. They are my heroes. Solid people doing solid work. Yet they work miracles. For example, let's say Tom Cruise has been cast as the world's greatest, mild-mannered nuclear cardiologist, and he has stumbled onto a global conspiracy hell-bent on toppling the world. Only Tom Cruise can save us all. If you're a smart producer, you surround Tommy C with people like John Scurti. Working with good character actors is like cooking with the finest herbs picked fresh from your garden. Sure, the meat and potatoes get all the glory, but pay a little more attention to the sage. Damn!

One day, I want to play in this character actor league. And actors who can also write are...well, I'm not an actor who can write. But they're real good-like.

Cut back to the audition. The casting director brought in five of us at a time, and lo and behold Mr. Scurti was in my fucking group! He and I exchanged lines a couple of times, and then I traded roles with another guy. That was it. I made a few mistakes. And then I made a few more.

In my mind however, I sounded like the vocal equivalent of getting pantsed by Meadowlark Lemon. Luckily, I still have that whole "look like a dork on camera" thing to fall back on. But today I was all atwitter just talking to John.

I look back on it, and...I'm positive I had bad breath. I hope I didn't fuck up his read.

Shit.

So support John, and all the other writers out there who just want a fair percentage of residual compensation for their work as it moves onto new media outlets, please read the following. And maybe write to someone about it.




In related news, my good friend (and writer) Josh Cagan has heard from Hollywood.
Here's their take on this whole strike thing.


On another note altogether, you should listen to more Traveling Wilburys. Honestly.

Kyle Chandler is the poor man's Ron Livingston

I had a little minor surgery last week. Nothing too much. Just my mortality creeping up with it's old man disease shenanigans.