Identity Crisis

Politics is kind of running around in circles today, so instead of complaining about that, I will complain about something else in my life that's running around in circles.

You may recall that I do a little acting now and then. My latest gig is a murder mystery, with two performances pending in the far-flung town of Glendora, over an hour's drive from my hovel. I basically got in without an audition, because they were having trouble casting the guy who gets killed and one of the other actors had worked with me before. So for the past several weeks I've been learning my lines and developing a dislikable attitude. Hell, if the AUDIENCE doesn't want to kill this guy in the first ten minutes, I'm not doing my job.

Monday I got this call from the producer. We go on in two weeks and the guy who's playing the detective (and romantic lead) was sidelined with a back injury, and he had no choice; he was going to play my part, and I was going to play the detective. So I went through the script and highlighted all the detective's lines, and was terrified to discover that he had 3 times as many. The nice thing about being killed in the first act is, you don't have to learn the 2nd and 3rd acts! But I went along with it 'cause the show must go on. I shaved off my beard, put together an outfit that a Texas Ranger in training might wear, and showed up for rehearsal Monday night.

This morning, the producer calls back. He decided he can't act AND produce, and he found another guy to play the detective, so I'm back as the victim. I have a week and a half to cultivate my beard.

(If you're within reach of the Glendora area, check out the VILLAGE BOOK SHOP on Glendora Ave for details.)