Why Football Is So Effin' Important

On the eve the Alabama Crimson Tide football team gets an opportunity to punch its ticket to another national championship game, I've been considering why college football matters so much to me. My team is doing great... been doing great for several years now. They are approaching dynasty status. But I watch and enjoy other teams too, college and pro. So if Alabama faltered, it wouldn't have been just a phase.

Every fall Saturday, since 2006, I've paid close attention to the Tide. I watch, recap, or hear about all the games. I follow practices, press conferences, recruiting, etc. I youtube game highlights. I like collecting Alabama memorabilia. It's a big cycle, and my people in Alabama are in on it too.

So, why? Why do I care? What does it do for me? Why do we act like this - Bama Nation Reacts - The Rally in Death Valley ?

The fact is, most Alabama fans don't feel they need to explain themselves. It's fun. It's tradition. A reason to meet up with buddies at the bar or sit in the den with your father.

It creates talking points with strangers. I met a guy from South Carolina tonight, and we connected talking about football, propelling our conversation from courteous to substantial.

When I talk to my 15-year old brother, we're different and don't have a lot of mutually fascinating things to discuss, but we thrive on talking football.

To me, football serves as a form of relief. An instant charge and excuse to get excited, possibly when there is nothing else to get excited about. It's been a chance to take my mind off serious things, especially the hustle n' bustle of the past couple of years. It's about the thrill of competition. Watching players mix and match. Witnessing good athletes reach their potential and make history. Sitting on the edge of your seat. Having a good time.

I'll be getting more rolled eyes, for some people don't think that calls for the manic nature sports fan have. But let me say. Football, and any sport for that matter, binds people. It lets our hair down and saves us from taking life's routines too seriously.

Rise Up

I moved back to LA this week, because frankly, I don't know what else to do with myself.

You may be interested in specifics of what's going on lately. And between waiting for things to be settled at home and moving into a new place, designing a new website, getting back into the casting circuit, figuring out employment, getting new photos, and determining my overall place in LA, I'm not sure what to tell anyone yet.

I've been stuck in a nightmare for several months. Something that impeded my artistic growth, adult life and made me really struggle to find the happy spot in any day.

The situation has kept me from living comfortably in the present. The past made me depressed. The future made me anxious. People have been so nice. But nice doesn't help you. It doesn't advance your career. It doesn't push you forward to bliss. I'm about moving forward, not being held hostage to dwell on the past.

People online astound me. I scroll through and see all these shiny happy pictures - of visiting other countries, of wild nights at bars, of laying out on beaches, of sunny days with friends. Then, in the middle of it, I read a comment of how tough things are and how they need attention or whatever bullshit drama. Are you kidding me? Do they realize how tough it can really get? Some people don't know what they have. Maybe we're too spoiled.... Maybe I was...

Let me tell you reader, I know what it feels like to be in the ground that is below the bottom of the barrel. I know loss on a grand scale. I know what it's like for people you love and care about to vanish. To be left wondering, who's on my side? Who understands?

I find encouragement in the unlikeliness of places. I see a cousin who lost his twin sister a year ago, moving forward in life with a new-born son and significant other. I see a grandmother, with whom I would take weekly drives to Tennessee, cheerfully point out all the honeymoon spots and places she went to as a young adult . I see a brother who convincingly made the high school golf team, beating out several students in all grades to make a small roster. I see people, who have every right to be sad, embrace life and choose to be happy instead.

I had a whole thing ready to go to tell you about what I've been through, before I realized that's not the point. The kicker is all these troubles are relative. There are people that do not feel sorry for me. Then, there's people that think I deserve more. How sorry you feel for someone depends on how much crap you deal with in life.

You can't get your SAG card? Waaah, I can't move to Hollywood. You can't move to Hollywood? Waaah, I'm stuck in school. You're stuck in school? Waaah, I'm physically handicapped. And so on. You can always shut the whining up by mentioning paraplegics or starving kids in India..

Despite everything, I am still an optimist with big dreams that still matter. It's tough to understand why I ever got down over anything before this. Yes, I was stuck in an easy, repetitive job before July 16 and complained. But who doesn't? Who isn't anxious for more?

I could settle down. Get a decent job. Get a cheap place. Surround myself with fun stuff, like movies and video games, and be safe. I can give up dreams - I have nothing to prove to anyone. But I want to be fulfilled. I feel I have what it takes. And I haven't given everything yet.

July 16 was horrible, and there is a God and people that need to know I didn't mean things I said that day and the days afterward. But it did change my mindset in the long run. July 16 taught me to wake up feeling blessed that I get another shot, to make every day count. My plans did not change that day like I thought they would. It put them into perspective and was a swift kick in the butt to get it going right.

I plan to take it to a whole new level. I won't have the same job, place to live, or people around. And I have a lot of work to do on my own. I'll make mistakes. I'll say the wrong things to people. I will lose more people I love. But I have a plan of attack, believe in myself, and couldn't be more excited and hopeful.

Maybe I believe too much in the best of people and the way the world works. I don't know how else to go through life.

No matter what life throws at you, no matter how much loss and pain you go through, I've realized there are people somewhere - around the country, in the past, on the clouds - that believe in me. Therefore, I have a legacy. I can do anything.

Endowment

This poem contains elements from one of my favorite poems: "Anodyne" by Yusef Komunyaaka.

 

I love how she

plays over me like a

skinny note on a piano.

I love how the world ignores

my glee and sorrow and

leaves it up to me. I love

the secrets she allows me to keep.

The sunshine that massages my joy

& the rain that rinses away

my mistakes. I love her words.

The unsureness of expression &

the mysteries of response.

I love how I can be disliked,

proving I am here

kicking up the dust.

I love how she

doesn’t keep noise

in the air between. I love

I can experience pain, proving

connection and spent time.

Drives and chats

taken and told. I love

the worn paths

& used money & the youthfulness

confused for immaturity

I can’t get back

and the lessons that comes with it.

I love her.

I love her down to her

incredible resolve

& frailty of the heart. I love

how she demands feeling. The looks,

those glances that persuade me to act.

I love how she has

a foggy piece,

one solo and disjointed

jigsaw to my naked portrait,

because I know I am alive

to dance across

her beautiful wasteland.

On the Front Row of Adulthood

I spent the last week of June preparing myself for how July was going to go. Nothing could prepare me for this. Now a few days after giving part of my father's eulogy, I'm on the front row of adulthood.

Everything that has happened in LA is suddenly irrelevent. It doesn't matter. All the relationships. All the work. All the plans. Stopped. Doesn't matter. Could matter again at some point. But not now. I'm on the front row of adulthood.

Everything my father worked for. Everything he created and saved and put up and owned is my responsibility now. His son, my little brother, is my responsibility now, though I have help and the love and support for our family is great.

It's only been a little over a week. Last Monday I left LA in a panic, in devastation. My heart tore out of my chest. I don't know how I made it here. I was completely wrecked.

And in a way, I still am. I found consolation in staying busy and active - planning the funeral and how life would unfold at Riverview Drive next. Not crawling in the bed and weeping to my family and friends. I've had to communicate with everyone who was effected by my father's charm, friendship, and love. And, reader, trust me when I say that is a lot of folks.

Dad was someone who enabled me and backed me up. I never owed him anything. Never borrowed money. Never took anything. I'm proud of that. We are on even keel.

He was my mentor. He was someone who trusted the paths I chose to walk in life. What I was interested in, he was interested in. And that couldn't work the other way around. He was the glue that held the families together. Now I am.

Acting, and everything I had been doing, just seems silly now. It seems like something I barely did. Something devoid of purpose. Yes, I can run from Florence. I can come back to LA in no time and work harder, motivated by my father's belief in me. But how can I with so much responsibility with the Salter legacy? Who is the male presence for Samuel? I am not justifying to myself for staying here or absorbing your sympathy, I am just on the front row of adulthood.

I wrote something about how happiness comes from our own actions. It comes from what we do and perceive to be as enlightening. Somebody told me sources of happiness are everywhere. If there's sunshine outside, that's a blessing. Happiness is not succeeding and fulfilling your dreams, it's embracing your situation and looking for the things around you that are functioning and working to keep you sane and interested.

Dad was my rock, the reason I could go and explore and pursue dreams. The reason I created many happy memories. I came from him. Now he's gone. I have to come back to where he was. To what he created and had. I have to be a Salter now.

My belief is if I can stand over Dad, view his corpse, and give a speech about what he meant to the world a week after sunbathing in Santa Monica, I can do ANYTHING.

Notes #2

Confidence Is Key

There is something about me that makes people want to have a go at me. I seem to bring out aggressive and war-like behavior from my peers sometimes.

Today at the "9 to 5", I was sent to a food cart to help with some new hires. About all they knew was how to clock in and ask if they could help you. I show up. I move things around. I get food prepared. I call in orders. I move the line. I do my job.

Then, I told one of them what to do. The kid stopped, broke the momentum, and asked, "Why do I need to do that?"

I ended up doing that (and more) while he stood there. It wasn't an instance that set me off, but it made me think. There is something about my demeanor, my persona, that after a while, seems to get to people I'm around. There's some sort of mentality I instill in people that makes them want to challenge me, to stand their ground.

For example, I can say, "I love that team." Then the person I'm sitting next to at the bar turns to me and loudly replies, "Are you kidding me? That team sucks! I like so-and-so!" And odds are, it's a team I don't like. Confrontation ensues.

And even if the guy at the bar liked the same team I like, there will be something about the way I proclaim it that would make them go something like "Yea, but why do you like them so much?"

This is good and bad. I like people challenging me. I like people who are smart, tough, thick-skinned, feisty, and not easy to sway. I think I get all the opinions on the table quickly when around people. Why is that? Is something I can fix? Do I need to fix it?

Our attitude and behavior effects people around us. Confidence is key but only a moderate amount. You don't want to mow down everyone in your path just to show how strong you think you are. It's not talking louder. It's not puffing out your chest. It's not making grand gestures. It's not even writing longer blogs. I've misunderstood this, thinking people need to see all this to know my strength. Negative. That just got them going - to the point they can turn against me.

What I need to do is be settled within my own inner strength. It is trusting in your beliefs and thoughts, even if it's something you can only prove to yourself. That, in tense moments with people, there wouldn't be an urge to lash out with quick words and action. Instead, it would be me comprehending the situation for myself and deciding if it's even worth it to let my thoughts into the universe. This would cut down on my abrasive behavior that has alienated me from important people all throughout my early life.

I mean, why feel you need to let other always know about it?

Everyone wants to be heard and understood. But perhaps being at peace with your own thoughts is more important. That is my definition of inner strength.

Take a Picture of... Something That You're Not Sure Of

I've been looking and debating photographers since April, and I finally chose one. I got a recommendation from a close friend in the entertainment biz. After a bunch of phone calls and several missed in-studio visits, I finally met and talked with the man this afternoon. I'm shooting in a couple of weeks. He was very professional and seems like someone comfortable to be around. What was the most important thing was he had a creative spirit and was only interested in shots that would BOOK WORK.

Right now, my Facebook has a bunch of "point and shoot" headshots that have worked few and far between the past two years. By the end of the month, there will be something new. I can look at myself and again start to visualize myself on a set again. Perhaps. More work to be done.

If interested, the photographer's site is here. http://www.michaelroud.com/

Vacation: All I Ever Wanted

I know a lot of people that deserve a vacation, and I'm one of them.

I refuse to go back home to Alabama to visit until I have enough materials to compete for auditions and parts when I come back. I'm trying to be careful not to bitch about the "9 to 5" but it's hard when it is taking a lot of time away from why I came out here.

I want to go to Disneyland, Sea World, Vegas, San Diego Zoo, Knott's Berry Farm, Vegas, Legoland, Catalina, Channel Islands, Big Bear, Vegas, San Francisco, Vegas, to name a few.

I thought I'd have all these places conquered by now. Ha.

There's still plenty of hot air and miles of roadway before I can't go anywhere.

Thought of the Day

How unfortunate real life doesn't move at the speed of a writer crafting his composition. How much violence would be thwarted. How much less accidents would occur. How many relationships would be saved. How much more common sense people would have. If we had time to find the right words.

Quickie poem

Lovers argue so they can have sugar
& remember to cry
and then fall for remarks
Of short sundresses and pigtails.

This past week I've carred a little, compact notebook everywhere with good results. It's crummy advice to jumpstart your writing muscle, but it's effective for me right now. Ideas and thoughts aren't escaping, and I've been able to hold on and develp a narrative for the times I've been having lately. Here's some excerpts.

MOVIEGOERS ASSEMBLE!

I'd like to briefly say something about The Avengers. Nevermind everyone's seen it, and it's been analyzed forward, backward, and upside down. I was preparing a review for it in May, but for some reason, I dropped the ball on it.

It is one of the great superhero movies, as far as a clear example of ensemble character work in movies. The first act developed slowly for my taste, and there was nothing ground-breaking storywise. However, perhaps these devices were deliberate in fleshing out superheroes in a universe that was years in the making.

With his involvement in this and Cabin in the Woods, Joss Whedon is behind the two most enjoyable movies of the year so far. His M.O. will always be dealing with character and conversation. Much like Scorsese does no wrong in mafia genre and Cameron pushes the envelope for visual effects, Whedon has a method of dealing with characters that won't get old any time soon.

A bit of a warning to Whedon and Marvel fans alike: beware of awarding the man a sort of entitled greatness due to a tremendous track record. It's still a movie, albeit a very good one. But too many times I've come to blows with fans who were unwilling and unable to see any flaws or need for improvement. Don't let your adoration blind you to fundamental failures of movie mechanics. And this goes for Dark Knight and Hobbit fans too, so don't think there's a double standard.

Hold accountability when you go to the movies. After all, you paid for your ticket.

HAPPINESS COMES FROM YOUR OWN ACTIONS

I'm beginning to understand lately that my problems are just that. My problems. Anything I have to complain about in my life out here is simply because I decided to move out here in the first place.

What's frustrating is giving your all out here is not enough. Adult life requires inner strength, whether you find that from inspiration, a loved one, or God. It may take somebody I haven't even become yet to have my dreams realized. Or it may never happen. What is important is the ride, the quest to sustain happiness.

I have always held on to the theory as a little boy that I was going to do whatever it was that made me happy. That I was always going to have something to look forward to. Whether it was a TV show, birthday, or pizza - something to get excited about. This was my own philosophy, and it still rings true today.

It comes down to me. I'm the one that put myself in this position. I am the one that rejoices and suffers accordingly.

For example, I had an audition and callback for a meaty role in a short film through a USC. It didn't pay much, but the role fit me (midwest college boy going through transitional period blah blah blah). I wanted to give it my all, as a way of getting back into actor mode. The audition went great. I had a good meal beforehand. I found close parking. The wait wasn't that long. I had continuously been practicing and making choices. I was prepared when I went in and nailed it. The director was happy to meet me and almost immediately I got a callback. Tuesday night, I make the same preparations and go in. They barely remember me. I go through the scene and the only adjustment I get is "go quicker". After the thank you/goodbyes, it was out the door, and I haven't heard a thing since.

Such is the business, such is my state of mind.

PARTAY

With episodes like this and a full-time job, it's only human to desire a vacation. Not getting one til my birthday, but I tried to force a small one this past weekend.

Last Friday night, I met some new friends and was invited to a pool party the following day, Saturday. I took off from work and met them there. It was fun, at first. Lots of dancing, bikinis, alcohol, and adulterated fun. I had a good rapport with these people the night before.

After three hours of swimming and talking, four tan, macho guys with cowboy hats show up and began talking to us about the most uninteresting things. Trucks, chlorine, cowboy hats. It got to the point where I couldn't get to their level. I thanked my friends for the invite and left. Bad timing because of a booty-shaking contest, but you know...

Point is, I sought happiness and lived with the consequences. Even if this is a group of people I can't hang with, I was grateful I could free my mind from the stress.

I HEARD FIREWORKS BUT DIDN'T SEE ANY

In case you were wondering. That's been the case the past two years living out here. I miss the Spirit of Freedom celebration down at the river bottom of the Tennesse River, a mile from the house. All the tailgaters, the beer cans, the dirty rednecks, the confederate flags, jet skis and boats. Hell yea. I remember where I was every year the fireworks went off. They say the Fourth is a symbol of patriotism. It's a symbol of growing up and adolescence for me.

I have other thoughts too. Two of my roommates moved out. A new one moved in; she's a casting director, apparently. I'll be sure to exploit that. Internet cut out for 3 days. I haven't seen Spider-man yet, despite both a rave from a younger girlfriend and a pan from a filmmaker buddy. I'm close to booking a session with a renown photographer later on this month. I'm searching for scenes for a reel. And the "9 to 5" rolls on. For now.

The Monologue, or My Head Right Now, i.e. Ranting

I have an off day and once again, I lost track on what that means I'm supposed to do. Right, the monologue!

I have an audition in a couple of hours. My second this week, so yay, but wasn't there supposed to be something else I was working on?

This has turned into my problem. Time management. Multi-tasking. Procrastinating. I have an off day, and I'm off track. Oh, I have all these dreams and ideas running through my head I can't do anything with when I'm working, away from this computer and the quiet confines of my apartment. But when I'm here...nothing.

I have to work on the specifics. I have to get this monologue down. I need to find someone to shoot me. I need to secure a photographer in a few weeks. New headshots mean I need to send out mailings like this casting director book I've been reading says. I have the envelopes and stamps and pens. Need more paper. I'm hungry. I can grab some fast food on the way back from my audition down at USC. Ugh, I gotta drive down there? Hope they get my oil changed on time. Just got a call. My timing belt is cracking? I need to look at some prices there before I said what to do. Hold off. I just locked my keys in my apartment and late for work. And I need to get the monologue down!

This is an idea of the past 24 hours. But they aren't problems. My problem is cerebral - finding a balance of time management, focus, and effort to get things done. It may sound like whining, but I know what gives me problems more than anybody. Right now, it's myself.

It's easy for people to tell me to just do it. Ha, if I hear that again, I'll smack ya. You can't "just do it" out here. Not correctly and to my standards, anyway. There's a waiting game for everything. You can't get to B without first going through A.

For example:
A- Getting fit and saving money
B- Headshots
C- Mailings
D- Interviews
E- Agent
F- Audition
...and so on.

Something has to happen BEFORE the thing you WANT to happen does. Like it says above, I can't get a proper audition without first getting fit and saving money. Things effect other things. This is why it is taking forever to show what I can do out here. I can't stay consistent or organized right now.

The problem is me. I don't ask for sympathy or even encouragment, even though both don't do me any harm. I ask for understanding that I can't be the coolest kid I can be right now as rear back again to tackle the beast.

Oh yea, the monologue!

Heartbreaker

I would like to tell you vaguely about some bad fortune I had tonight.

It's been a slow week. I've mostly been watching movies and TV, with the exception of testing the new Transformers ride at Universal. But I have been vigilant, submitting and emailing for gigs all along.

Earlier today, Sweet Tarts and I decided we wanted to attend a preview of an upcoming summer movie. We didn't know what we were going to see, hoping it was the new Spider-man, but we knew we'd at least get four movie tickets for attending. It was down near Long Beach, and we left downtown LA around 5. An hour later, we got down there and had to go get in line to fill out paperwork and get our tickets. In order to get into the screening, we left our phones in the car, otherwise they wouldn't let us in.

The preview started around 7. It wasn't Spider-man, or anything worth mentioning here. It was not a very good movie, and I can't tell you what we saw until July.

After the movie, we filled out a survey on what we thought about it and collected our free tickets. It was late by then, around 10, and Sweet Tarts was needing to go to a nearby store, but we went by the car to get our phones first.

I collected my phone and, reader, would you believe I had two missed calls from the one of the top casting agencies in Hollywood? They had called and left a voicemail at 6:58pm saying I had been selected as a photo double on a TV show shooting all next week and needed me to call back in a few minutes to confirm. The production had picked me out personally from hundreds of photos at the casting agency. I would basically be doing stand-in type work for one of the main actors.

I listened to that voicemail and lost it. I collapsed on the ground in a frustrating burst of energy knowing it was too late, and the job had went to someone else. Sweet Tarts was confused and concerned, and I have since apologized for my behavior. But think about this.

All I've done this week is submit, call, and email to make something happen. To be on any show, any role. I've had my phone right beside me phoning and waiting to be phoned. Then, almost to the very minute I have to separate myself from my phone, I get a nice, lucratitve opportunity calling? And I miss out on this watching a shitty movie?

This business is heartbreaking. It has bad timing and depends on readiness. To lose out on this hurt badly. It was just a photo double job, but what a tremendous amount of experience and confidence that would have brought. I've been out here two years and never have had something like this.

When I met and shot something with the actor Rance Howard a year ago, he emailed me afterwards warning that my heart would be broken out here, and I would need a thick skin to make it. Sweet Tarts reiterated saying this job wasn't what God wanted me to do right now.

Sweet Tarts and Rance are right, of course. I was just surprised how it affected me. The past few weeks not booking any acting jobs made it all the more heartbreaking.

I'm still upset, but I will be fine and keep going. Know overall I'm having a blast, even if I have difficulty conveying to you the relevence of one gig over the other.

Titanic

Sweet Tarts and I went to see Titanic 3D the other day. It was the first time I got to see it on the big screen.

I didn't actually see the whole movie until 2002 or so. I was only allowed to watch the end on the second videotape. Just the sinking part. I remember agreeing with Dad I wasn't interested in seeing the setup and love story anyway.

Now I'm older and caught up with the 1997 crowd. You know why it's good and don't need a review. Besides a triumph of production design, visual and water effects, blending real ocean footage, it followed history carefully, made it interesting, and got us involved with the real-life passangers. I also think Titanic is more sensual than most love stories, with Winslet and DiCaprio putting a lot into it during their early careers.

I don't know what else to say about it, than I just wanted to say something. I had such a nice time seeing it. Even if it was in 3D.

The 3D added nothing, dimmed the picture, made the foreground too focused, and reinforced the fact the movie wasn't even made for 3D in the first place. 3D doesn't seem to be going away. The most I can hope for is maybe 3D will become an excuse to get classic movies back in theaters. (Ben-Hur 3D!) Then I can go watch them, somehow avoiding the stupid surcharge, under the guise I like 3D.

*I like going here http://imdb.to/HF8sLE and going through all the behind-the-scenes facts like a nerd boss.

Listen Up!

So, Sweet Tarts has me convinced of something: I have opinions that need to "simma down now".

My family knows this. Classmates (especially in my history, English, and writing classes) knew this. Fellow actors and theater classmates know this. Everyone I watch TV with and go to the movies with knows this. Friends, co-workers, and bar strangers know this.

The movie Big Fish taught us it's rude to discuss politics or religion with anyone, unless THEY bring it up and want your remarks. I decided to follow that rule. Everything else I considered fair game. The moment a subject is brought up, I feel the need to inject my two cents - whether it's about movies, traffic laws, books, Facebook pictures, poetry, TV shows, singers, clothes, whatever. I have to say something. And I like surrounding myself with quick-witted, intelligent people who argue back.

Sweet Tarts had enough of it the other night and decided to demonstrate to me that listening was key, even if my opinion was right. She observed that I have mostly been hearing other remarks and opinions but not absorbing it. That is, not listening.

Did she touch on the reason I can't get along with everybody? Have I been alienating myself acting like this?

This is what I'm going to do. I'm going to try an experiment to see how different things are if I don't opine. People may not care; in fact, I expect most people not to care. However, I am interested to see how I am treated if I keep my mouth shut. That's all.

So, starting right now, February 27, I vow to not speak my opinion of any subject unless otherwise asked to by someone. And even then, I'll keep it pithy. I vow to do this for the rest of the year.

It's going to be hard for me. I'm going to hear comments I blatantly disagree with and have a fear someone's free speech will influence me (by me not saying something back). But I think my listening skills will improve. And then perhaps I'll empathize better and grow up a little more.

SAG, Sweet Tarts, and the Apocalypse

If 2012 is the last year for humanity, then it truly sucks I'm going to be deprived of a future my good fortunes are setting me up for.

I've been out here 22 months at this point. Not the richest college graduate, but nowhere close to packing up. For 22 months, I've struggled and soared. The first 37 days of this year have been complete soaring at this point. It's answered prayer, and it's also scary as hell in terms of when it trends downhill again.

One facet of my good fortune was becoming SAG-eligible. For 22 months I've sought to get eligible to get into the prestiguous film performer's union. I've emailed casting directors, communicated with fellow SAG actors, sweet talked production assistants, and just hustled. Nothing doing.

Then, two Saturdays ago, I got Taft Hartleyed into the Screens Actors Guild at a little movie shoot and voila. Now that step is complete. I'm actually working background on a major motion picture starring some big names this week. On the SAG side. Yes! This is good. I won't completely join SAG yet. But I plan to join AFTRA very soon. Now you're asking what AFTRA is... That, reader friend, is another story.

Universal Studios decided it was time for me to have health benefits, so that should be a relief to my dad. I credit Universal Studios for keeping me in the game. I won't be there forever, but if I hadn't been there at all, I wouldn't be getting into this position.

Finances are increasingly managable, health is above average, I'm reading and writing more, work is plentiful, the weather's great, family is coming to visit, ...

And this year has brought along my special friend I'll call Sweet Tarts here (girlfriend being too normal a term for someone so extraordinary, but that's what she is too). Sweet Tarts is one of those people who comes along and reminds you of all the good friends you've had at this point and contains every last one of their better qualities. Most importantly, and selfishly, Sweet Tarts has given me this second wind, a gentle nudge deeper into my aspirations. Sweet Tarts is a muse, of sorts.

I gave myself ten years. I'll be 34 when I take a look at my life out here. Nearly two years in, I'm not in dreamland but I'm setting myself up for it. I hope you find good fortune too. For this dude, 2012 is about new beginnings at this point and not a silly, fairy-tale apocalypse. Good stuff.

Oh! And I haven't even mentioned my favorite sports team winning it all.

Thought of the Day

I like watching movies and TV because I don't have to say anything to feel everything. It's the whole reason why I can't and won't give up.

It's Not About Quarters

Toward the end of the 90s when I was about eleven or twelve, my family and I drove down to Jackson, MS. My stepmother, Donnia, may have had nursing business down there, but I'm not sure since she just had Samuel.

We had an old green and white camper trailer. It had yellow tiled floor, two bunk beds, a tiny bathroom, and a little kitchen and space area to watch TV and lay down on the couch. It's the only trip I remember really using it. I can't remember if my parents had a good time, how Samuel held up, or even much of what we did. I just remember two things from the trailer park complex where we stayed: a Simpsons arcade game in the playhouse and the swimming pool.

You know the Simpsons game - you play as either Homer, Marge, Bart, or Lisa. You fight a bunch of baddies through multiple stages to try to get back Maggie who was kidnapped by Smithers. I played with Bart who had a skateboard as a weapon. There were a bunch of stages with a boss at the end, and other players could jump in at any time. 25 cents. I would play and play and could only get through a few stages with the quarters I had.

I mostly hung out at the swimming pool though. Dad would let me go swim by myself, and that was fine by me. One day, I was swimming and met a little girl. I cannot remember her name or what she look liked. I remember us talking a mile a minute, both of us impressing we took swimming lessons and could swim in the deep end. She talked a lot about Titanic and Leonardo DiCaprio, so I know it was post-1997. I wouldn't see that movie for another few years, so she described in detail the ending and how much she loved it. A recurring theme in my childhood was to act out events from movies - "space cadet" as Dad would call it. So that's what we did. I played Jack and she played Rose and I had to tell her I loved her and let go and sink to the bottom of the pool and all that. It was kiddy fun.

I eventually told her about the Simpsons game inside, how I couldn't beat it and needed help and didn't have enough quarters. She said she was trying to get through that game too. It was a meeting of the minds. We went back into the arcade room with our combined quarters, and yes reader, we beat the Simpsons. Don't ask what happened at the end. I haven't beaten it since. I’m sure we got Maggie back.

Toward the end of the trip, she said she wanted me to come over to her trailer. I forgot if my family or her family was leaving first. Doesn't matter. I went to her trailer, knocked on the door, and her mother or grandmother let me in. She told me the little girl would be just a second. She finally came out of the back wearing lots of red lipstick, and we went back outside. She handed me a piece of paper, and we hugged and said we would miss each other. Then I left. So, no, this isn't the story of my first kiss.

This is the story of that piece of paper. And why it is relevant to something that's happened to me recently.

Walking back to our camper, I read the note. I don't remember the exact words, but I remember what it was about. It said something to the effect that I was cuter than DiCaprio and kind and should never change and was/could be/am the best boyfriend ever. I dunno. Something like that. That was the message.

I was so proud of that. I've remembered that little girl's message forever. I have since tried to be the nice Southern gentlemen and friend, but it comes to a head as you get older. It gets hard. You begin to understand you and acquaintances are tempted with power, money, status, ambition, etc.

I ran into some bad company recently who wanted nothing more than to use me. I began to call their bluff and sank down to their level of discouragement and demeaning. I cursed at the situation and how mean of a person I became in order to handle it...then I realized something. You can choose who you are around. Simple grandmother, no-duh advice. But man, is it becoming important to remember nowadays.

This entry is mainly cathartic and an effort to remind myself of my long-lost, little friend. Obviously, nobody can keep up childhood innocence, but we can choose our friends, and those friends should bring out the good and child-like qualities me and the little girl had in the 90s. She wanted nothing, and I wanted nothing. I didn't want her quarters. And she wasn't looking to use her quarters on that machine. It just worked out. When you find the right friend, there's no hidden anger, resentment, or jealousy. There's just that person's smiling face and a shared bond where we want to help each other for the better.

Yea, I’m still learning this stuff.

Tom Brady vs. Defense

Is this what it's gonna look like all the way to the Super Bowl?

Tom Brady.......................................Samuel
Defensive Lineman..........................Me

Let's Try This Again

Ok, so my old blogger site (http://actorboy811.blogspot.com/) sorta died.

Im gonna try again. I moved to California and got lazy and stopped writing. Well, I got a second wind, so here we go again. The first two posts are from the old blog...just to start off with something.

Gotta stay creative and reflective!

Laurie

I used the off ramp
When your picture came up,
Losing track of the way
To San Clemente.

Watching headlights retreat,
My mind was made up.
Stubbornness. You made me forget
I dreamed of a thousand flashing bulbs.

One look, and I'm ready to reverse
All those orange miles.
You make this too easy.
Do you realize your pose makes decisions for men?

Audition

The boy dabbed his dark pants with a paper towel and checked the bathroom wall mirror twice to make sure the stain was gone. Whatever he spilled on his pants wasn’t going to hinder his moment this afternoon. He was willing to work hard to book this event. Bravery and experience was all it really took. All the movies, TV shows, commercials, songs, and books had taught him that. His experienced, special agent had taught him that as well. This agent had also given him a heads-up that morning of where he needed to be, and he had rushed downtown ready to give the lines.

He had memorized all the lines that night before. Saying them into his own bathroom mirror, he had judged his facial ticks and mannerisms. He needed to give off a true vibe, one of a true natural human being. He had obsessively thought about finding the best way to give them. He had talked with his roommate the night before. The roommate had his own advice for owning the room, but the boy knew it was up to him and his personality at the end of the day. He obsessed about them too much, he knew, but then again, didn’t everyone like him do the same?

He walked out of the bathroom with only two mild wet spots. He tried not to think about it. He exited into the lobby of the busy fast food place he shouldn’t have eaten at beforehand and headed to the door. The place he was heading was next door, a very unlikely place to have such a confrontation. He had heard stories how the most famous people had met the people who changed their lives in these most crummiest and unlikely of places.

Not that the place was crummy, in fact, it was bustling. People his age going in and out. Are these people trying to impress similiar people? No, he figured that's just the judgement and extra gunk that has to be pushed out of the head in these situations.

He walked in the room and asked the nearest person where he was heading. The lady nodded and directed him into another room. The boy made his down the hall and at that point, he realized he should have snatched an extra towel to dab his face and forehead. This was his face time. This was his time to shine and spill his guts. Releasing everything he memorized and thought about the night before.

He entered the room and found it was perfect timing. It was his turn. He walked up to the table. Three sets of eyes stared at him up and down, taking him in, seeing if he fit the part. He knew it was time to slate. He focused his energy to the person in the middle of the table.

“Hi. Remember me from class? I was wondering if you wanna meet up later tonight to go to a movie?” he thought he remembered asking.

The girl started to smile to herself then quickly pursed her lips as if trying to express a blank reaction. Her head sank down, but her solemn blue eyes looked up at him already holding the answer.

“No hun. I’m busy tonight.”

“Okay. That’s cool. I just remembered I forgot something in my car.”

The boy nodded and smiled blankly then exited back through the sports bar as quickly as seemed natural. He was not crushed by her response, but he was already texting for advice on his next audition.