Jun

20

SO YOU GOT THE PART ~ now what?

As a general rule, if you want something unremittingly, desperately, you probably won't get it, unless there's a perfect storm of availability, focus, economic feasibility and pacific heart.

If you aren't really sure, er, maybe, and you go for something half-heartedly, you may be disturbed to learn that, aghhh!, you actually got what you only so-so wanted.

Did you want that contract? Really? Did you want that fill? Weren't you sort of hoping nothing would happen, and you could dandle those thousands in the currency pool overseas just a few more days? Did you really want that abandoned unit in Boca, at that price, at this time?

It's fairly undeniable…there's always a distinct feeling of let-down when a deal actually chugs forward, becomes a done deal. That courtship dance is durn over.

It's the Universe's way of keeping you off your feed; a caution to reprimand you for putting out quasi-insincere energy.

So you try out for a play. The director gives you a bunch of roles to read. You're vain enough to want to play the sexy babe with the doctor in a suppressed, subterranean love affair That Cannot Say Its Cleavage. Heat. Temperatures rising. Yadda bing.

But you give more juice to the funny Frau Bleeglefleegle with an Austrian accent. Or the half-coo-coo elderly sweetheart who poisons Cary Grant's visitors with tainted elderberry vino. Whatever.

So now we have the part we auditioned for in "Harvey." Vetta Simmons, a nouveau everything, an arriviste with a vengeance who lusts for society, recognition and a bien-pensant beau for her dimmish, dowdy daughter.

It's not the role itself of course. It's the rehearsals, a vista of days or evenings stretching over the horizon. Weekends lost in 4-hour segments. Always being professional, meaning always being on time. Not so easy. Plus the make-up and costumery of someone not oneself. Being yuckier than oneself. Eww. Or jerkier.

Part of the allure is the otherness of enacting another character. Part is creating an ensemble with strangers until one constructs, day by day, an inevitable jewel of excellence, music, blocking, lines, poetry and laughs.

Poof goes the prospective vacation. Wham-o flies the plans to leave for 2 or 3 months to rework some of the countries recently worked. And what if the workaday schedule shifts? We never say no to regular income streams, and it's a certainty in this popcorn stand that the moment we commit to a (freebie) play, along comes a paying project or gig or excitement we can't turn down.

Is that in fact the sympathetic magic we seek to evoke to begin with? Aha! As the doctor says to Portnoy in the eponymous book by Philip Roth: Now, vee begin!


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