Where we left off last week: I was having trouble staying focused in what I hoped to be a dynamite
meeting with a hot shot casting director, since at this point in my life only dynamite could
break the log jam in my career…
I watched Twinkie make marks from the top to the
bottom of the paper in front of her. From
my side of the desk I guessed she was either constructing a six-set Venn
diagram or designing a need- to- know flow chart of secret drone missions, on
my resume. What the hell is she doing? I
was already uncomfortable with the whole pay to play with a casting director
phenomenon that became a cottage industry in its self during my hiatus from comedy
and performing. Wasn’t that the purpose of showcase after showcase, the
opportunity to be seen by an influential gatekeeper like herself?
Yes I am an unforgivingly old school by-product
of the previous century, but faced with the prospect of being a non-income
generating, middle-aged non-performing, performing artist, I sucked it up and
stuck my toe in the now. Paying to meet
Twinkie was the iceberg tip of my adjustments.
It was a huge adjustment returning to the place of
my birth - Brooklyn’s Bed-Stuy - after homesteading, raising a son, reveling in
Tribeca and then leaving divorced. My lovingly supportive yet oddly passive aggressive
marriage, to my high school sweet heart- fiancé- husband- parenting partner,
began to chafe in its third decade. In
the fading afternoon sun of our art filled, book lined, homey apartment, Phil
and I exchanged words that could not be snatched back. I was deeply in love
with my husband. Somewhere along the
years I stopped liking him. Our Dartmouth educated son was grown and leaving the nest. Soon I’d be the next to go. I’d grown apart from the man I fell in love
with when I was 14 years old. It felt like
time to leave the most significant man in my life.
At the time I was acting in a production directed
by the renowned Woodie King Jr., on NY’s Theater Row. I had in the offing an epic blues cantata, written
by a longtime friend, sure to make my mark as a theater director of note. I did not have a second thought about the
comedy career I’d left in the dust. But how
do you adjust to leaving a lifetime of love? I
clutched my rising possibilities as an actress and director on the dramatic
stage. In less than a month I was out on my own. My timing was impeccable. I left Tribeca for
Bed-Stuy, I signed the divorce papers and then right on cue, came the recession, years and years of recession.
you are one of the brave ones who know life ain't worth anything if it isn't truly yours. whatever happens, happens. when i read you, i feel like you are flying (no matter if things are happening at that moment or not).
GORGEOUS writing!! Apt analogy per secret drone missions... I just watched the Oscar nominated documentary, "Gatekeepers" about Israeli intelligence officers -- keep thinking how different it would have been if it were about Pay to Play Casting Directors, however it would be no less ruthless in its politics.
So sad but inspiring. Thank you for being so candid.
Love your writing Rhonda. Evocative is the word I'm looking for. I think! I don't have the command of the language you do! lol
"began to chafe in its 3rd decade" = hilarious! ~S