So hey hey! Haven't been here in a little while, as you can tell. Thoughts and deeds have been coming in shorter, less introspective bursts of late (ahemtwitterfacebookahem) and instead of fighting the trend, I thought I'd just make like a diaper and change. At least for the time being...
So come see my new blog-type over at Tumblr. It may work out, it may not, I may come tumblng back to Bloggr or prhaps I'll ventr ovr to some othr Innernet flavr of the month. Who knows? Havnn't quite figured out if it's worth it yet. I'll let you know.
Life is a carnival, why not toss all the damn rings?
Okay.
Feb 25, 2012
Sep 20, 2011
What we have here is a failure to communicate
I have to say it, the time has come. It is the year Two Thousand freaking ELEVEN, people.
You need to get right with technology.
And I don't mean you need to shell out mad coin for that iCandy that everyone seems to blithely tote around as if it hasn't just blasted a rent-draining hole in their pocket book. No, what I mean is LEARN THE RULES.
Rule 1: Social networking exists. Deal with it.
"I hate Facebook!" or "Facebook scares me, I don't know how to do it!" are excuses that will not any longer, as dogs, hunt, as it were. Facebook (which I'll use as a catch-all for social media here) is the evolution of how we communicate with each other. That's not my opinion, it's a fact.
If you decided to join, you need to accept the fact that people - your real-life friends, even - will try to get in touch via Facebook. They might not even use email and they certainly won't call you. But it's okay, you can handle it, you can figure out the weird and conFUUUUsing world of the social network... just try to KEEP UP. If you choose not to join, great. I hear HAM radio's making a comeback.
Rule 2: I asked you a KWISCHIN, boy!
RSVP, let me know, confirm receipt, tell me you got this, holler back, blink once for yes, twice for no, PLEASE. If you got the inquiry I sent you, could you at least do me the solid of tapping the web to let me know my note isn't hanging in techno-limbo somewhere. It's not just helpful for my sanity, it's JUST EFFING POLITE. I don't even need a definitive answer, not even close. Call me insecure and neurotic (maybe you're right, what are people saying??!), I just need to know where we stand.
Rule 2a: I know you're out there, I can hear you tweeting.
I sent you that text message request a week ago, you sent me a link yesterday to that super-HIlarious cat video, updated your profile picture, reply-all'd to the party invitation we both got. It's not like I can't see that you're online, dude. Take a quick moment between guffaws and Cheeto bites and ANSWER ME.
Rule 3: Everyone has emergencies, not just you.
My biggest pet peeve: "Hey, send me your info RIGHT AWAY so we can get tickets!". Okay, so then I do. Right away, just like you asked. Then I send you a follow up to make sure you got it, then I send you a note saying hi, how are things, then I post to your wall a few days later, then a text a few days after that- okay look, I'm not stalking you. I'm not gonna open a vein because you won't talk to me, but seriously? When it's your problem, I gotta jump to prevent the earth being swallowed by the sun, but you can't spare .14 seconds to craft even a rudimentary emoticon in response??!! Sorry, I gotta say friend I love you but you suck.
Of course, phones get dropped in toilets, computers explode, people have life issues that (bizarrely) take them away from their devices. I understand completely. I am down with the need for quiet solitude and an escape from the constant buzz. That's what vacations, nights and weekends are for. That's why baby Jesus invented the out-of-office auto-reply and the "offline" status icon. You see, just as there are tools and behaviors appropriate to being online, so are there also allowances for being off line. But you have to OWN that. Be a hermit, fine. Resist technology, get angry and move to the mountains to grow hemp and have a great life off the grid. People do it. But ignoring or judging the way people are choosing to conduct their platonic interpersonal affairs because you don't agree or are too scared or lazy to learn is not my fault, nor am I responsible for teaching you. Though my rates are quite reasonable.
I'm sorry it's come to this, but if you can't give me a good reason why you can't or won't come into the second decade of the 21st Century with the rest of the known universe (seriously, teenagers in Zimbabwe know what Twitter is), well, I'm afraid I will have to unlike you.
You need to get right with technology.
And I don't mean you need to shell out mad coin for that iCandy that everyone seems to blithely tote around as if it hasn't just blasted a rent-draining hole in their pocket book. No, what I mean is LEARN THE RULES.
Rule 1: Social networking exists. Deal with it.
"I hate Facebook!" or "Facebook scares me, I don't know how to do it!" are excuses that will not any longer, as dogs, hunt, as it were. Facebook (which I'll use as a catch-all for social media here) is the evolution of how we communicate with each other. That's not my opinion, it's a fact.
If you decided to join, you need to accept the fact that people - your real-life friends, even - will try to get in touch via Facebook. They might not even use email and they certainly won't call you. But it's okay, you can handle it, you can figure out the weird and conFUUUUsing world of the social network... just try to KEEP UP. If you choose not to join, great. I hear HAM radio's making a comeback.
Rule 2: I asked you a KWISCHIN, boy!
RSVP, let me know, confirm receipt, tell me you got this, holler back, blink once for yes, twice for no, PLEASE. If you got the inquiry I sent you, could you at least do me the solid of tapping the web to let me know my note isn't hanging in techno-limbo somewhere. It's not just helpful for my sanity, it's JUST EFFING POLITE. I don't even need a definitive answer, not even close. Call me insecure and neurotic (maybe you're right, what are people saying??!), I just need to know where we stand.
Rule 2a: I know you're out there, I can hear you tweeting.
I sent you that text message request a week ago, you sent me a link yesterday to that super-HIlarious cat video, updated your profile picture, reply-all'd to the party invitation we both got. It's not like I can't see that you're online, dude. Take a quick moment between guffaws and Cheeto bites and ANSWER ME.
Rule 3: Everyone has emergencies, not just you.
My biggest pet peeve: "Hey, send me your info RIGHT AWAY so we can get tickets!". Okay, so then I do. Right away, just like you asked. Then I send you a follow up to make sure you got it, then I send you a note saying hi, how are things, then I post to your wall a few days later, then a text a few days after that- okay look, I'm not stalking you. I'm not gonna open a vein because you won't talk to me, but seriously? When it's your problem, I gotta jump to prevent the earth being swallowed by the sun, but you can't spare .14 seconds to craft even a rudimentary emoticon in response??!! Sorry, I gotta say friend I love you but you suck.
Of course, phones get dropped in toilets, computers explode, people have life issues that (bizarrely) take them away from their devices. I understand completely. I am down with the need for quiet solitude and an escape from the constant buzz. That's what vacations, nights and weekends are for. That's why baby Jesus invented the out-of-office auto-reply and the "offline" status icon. You see, just as there are tools and behaviors appropriate to being online, so are there also allowances for being off line. But you have to OWN that. Be a hermit, fine. Resist technology, get angry and move to the mountains to grow hemp and have a great life off the grid. People do it. But ignoring or judging the way people are choosing to conduct their platonic interpersonal affairs because you don't agree or are too scared or lazy to learn is not my fault, nor am I responsible for teaching you. Though my rates are quite reasonable.
I'm sorry it's come to this, but if you can't give me a good reason why you can't or won't come into the second decade of the 21st Century with the rest of the known universe (seriously, teenagers in Zimbabwe know what Twitter is), well, I'm afraid I will have to unlike you.
Jun 7, 2011
May 31, 2011
The New Job
[Just found this unpublished post from last year. Reading through it, I was happy to find that it still resonates with where I am now, which is encouraging. I may actually be on the right track. Still struggling, still broke, but a year wiser and with some pretty encouraging developments in the interim. -Beets Ed.]
6/14/10
Sometimes to my detriment, I'm not usually one to get all rah-rah about landing a role. That's what actors are supposed to do - land parts. You, astute reader that you are, have undoubtedly surmised by now that this is an exception.I just learned today that I've been cast in an episode of a fairly popular cable series and I'm a bit unsure of what to do with myself at the moment. Thrilled? Yes, of course. And how quickly things can turn around (another thing that should not surprise and actor yet always does). Last week, I felt like I couldn't get arrested in Seattle. I had come up empty-handed at a bunch of auditions earlier this spring (including two for this very show) and the day-job market wasn't looking any more promising. Now there's this opportunity. I realize it's a small part, I also realize that it's probably not one of those career-jump-starting small roles either. But it's something, finally, where there was nothing.
I think I've been doing this long enough to quit pretending ego doesn't (or shouldn't) matter as a performer. Everyone's got an ego - it's our armor and our rudder, socially and emotionally - but an actor's ego necessarily needs to be extra durable to protect against our uniquely potent workplace hazards. For my part, I haven't tied my self esteem to acting or performing as is often the stereotype, but there is a very real and palpable craving to simply work. To be asked to do a job for which you are trained, that you enjoy and do well. There is no shame in wanting that, of course, whether you're an actor or a software developer or a ditch-digger. Mostly, I've grown tired of not working, and specifically, not working in my field.
I've spent the last year or so trying to re-tool my mind to accept the fact that I should be pursuing work that I'm good at, work that fulfills me and pays me and challenges me. The simple equation that dawned on me is that I have a better chance of succeeding if I pursue the type of work in which I have a considerable level of expertise and experience (HINT: it's not office work). As hard as it is to be a self-sustaining performer, and all things being equal in this crappy economy, I think it's a path worth pursuing, if only because the alternatives are pretty unappealing to me.
So this is simply, wonderfully, thankfully work. Celebrity is not the goal here, it really is the universal satisfaction of doing the job well. Since being unemployed, I've found that following my nose and making it up as I go along, while scary as hell, is infinitely more gratifying than trying to fit in where I don't belong.
Apr 1, 2011
An Actor Despairs
Q: How do you get an actor to complain?
A: Give him a job.
Yes, this tired joke is probably only funny to theater people, but not entirely untrue. And while it's not regarding me getting a job, I have a brief beef to bring up here on "Beets".
As actors who audition, we're all too familiar with the phrase, "[the producers] decided to go in a different direction." This, of course, is one of many codes for "you didn't get cast." It's usually assumed that there's more to be said about your audition, but no one's going to press the issue. It's quick, polite and, after all, that's just the way it goes - actors audition and don't get cast, it's a hazard of our workplace and we develop a thick skin for it.
In a fit of fantasy today, though, I imagined a universe where a producer is able to say - in a manner simultaneously respectful and succinct - "your audition wasn't very strong". As it stands, going in a "different direction" already suggests that the direction you were going was the wrong one (as paranoid as it sounds. Welcome to actor-brain). A small, nagging part of me almost wants to dispense with the "it's not you, it's me" line in favor of a professionally-delivered (prepackaged, even) message of "you didn't show us what we wanted, try harder next time. Thank you." Sure, I'd cry in my pillow that night, but maybe the next day, I'd have a clearer idea of my limits and my strengths. Maybe even clear enough to inspire me to take action to improve. Who doesn't have pity and scorn for that actor whom no one's ever told they're crappy? How can we get better in an environment that always says yes? Personally, I don't believe grad school is the only answer.
Now of course I know it's not the producer's job to manage my career decisions or to offer critical feedback of my performance (or, truly, any feedback at all), and I believe people change their minds about the character or script. As I said, this was a fantasy moment. Realistically, my ego is just fine with the current arrangement, especially since entertainment professionals are not known for their bedside manner. But I'll always be curious about that "different direction" and why I'm not headed there too.
A: Give him a job.
Yes, this tired joke is probably only funny to theater people, but not entirely untrue. And while it's not regarding me getting a job, I have a brief beef to bring up here on "Beets".
As actors who audition, we're all too familiar with the phrase, "[the producers] decided to go in a different direction." This, of course, is one of many codes for "you didn't get cast." It's usually assumed that there's more to be said about your audition, but no one's going to press the issue. It's quick, polite and, after all, that's just the way it goes - actors audition and don't get cast, it's a hazard of our workplace and we develop a thick skin for it.
In a fit of fantasy today, though, I imagined a universe where a producer is able to say - in a manner simultaneously respectful and succinct - "your audition wasn't very strong". As it stands, going in a "different direction" already suggests that the direction you were going was the wrong one (as paranoid as it sounds. Welcome to actor-brain). A small, nagging part of me almost wants to dispense with the "it's not you, it's me" line in favor of a professionally-delivered (prepackaged, even) message of "you didn't show us what we wanted, try harder next time. Thank you." Sure, I'd cry in my pillow that night, but maybe the next day, I'd have a clearer idea of my limits and my strengths. Maybe even clear enough to inspire me to take action to improve. Who doesn't have pity and scorn for that actor whom no one's ever told they're crappy? How can we get better in an environment that always says yes? Personally, I don't believe grad school is the only answer.
Now of course I know it's not the producer's job to manage my career decisions or to offer critical feedback of my performance (or, truly, any feedback at all), and I believe people change their minds about the character or script. As I said, this was a fantasy moment. Realistically, my ego is just fine with the current arrangement, especially since entertainment professionals are not known for their bedside manner. But I'll always be curious about that "different direction" and why I'm not headed there too.
Mar 26, 2011
Let's be honest
Okay, so I'm not so hot at blogging these days. Don't think I haven't noticed. As is true with the rest of the world, the TweetyFaceTubes have hijacked my short attention span and my longer-form ramblings and musings have become fewer and father between.
Of course, there will be more, as there always is - looking back, I tend to have crazy writing jags every few months - so I'll reserve the right to keep this post up as a placeholder for grander things to come.
Cheers and happy Spring!
Jan 10, 2011
Words have meaning: parts 1 & 2
Part 1: The Audition
Read a scene for a play this afternoon that deals with the tricky issue of how sensitive words (an order of execution) from certain people (royalty) can influence and be interpreted by their recipients (the ill-fated messenger), sometimes with disastrous consequences (so long, Mary Queen of Scots). No need to say what's already been said better and at length re: current events in AZ. Just thought it was grimly fitting.
Part 2: The Coffee Shop
After the audition, I stopped off at a cafe in my hyper-liberal, super-hip, culture-savvy neighborhood. It only took a few moments to realize that the speakers were blaring some pretty severe hip-hop. Words common to the medium and which are banned on television (and often less-than-flattering to black people and women) filled the air. Lest I sound like an old man, I love hip-hop and am no puritan when it comes to language. But looking around the room of nearly all white faces (none darker than the few Asians), I was amazed at the collective unspoken agreement that seemed to have happened: If someone walks in the door and starts screaming obscenities and racial and sexist epithets, we'll rise up in righteous indignation and expel them with the power of a liberal mob. But put a beat under those same words and play it over the loudspeakers, well, that's just what they play here and it's art and art is sacrosanct and if you don't like it why don't YOU get out, you clod.
Or so that's maybe what everyone thought everyone else thought. But I wonder how a black person would have felt in that room of white lefties with this (well-DJ'd but lazily-MC'd) music playing? Were the female customers just ignoring it? If so, does that mean these ideas are dead? Can we finally move past ignorance and bigotry and blithely start calling each other whatever we feel like without repercussion? I'm thinking not.
Unless we put it to music, maybe.
Sep 30, 2010
Playground Anonymous
I hear some weird things on the playground. They come from parents most of the time. Kids are pretty boring, actually...
Grandpa pushes young granddaughter on the swing while "keeping an eye on" the older one. He calls over to her:
"Jennifer, swing. Swing, Jennifer!"
She has never not been swinging.
"Hold on, Jennifer. JENNIFER HOLD ON! JENNIFER!! You hold on now."
She has never let go of the swing the entire time.
"JENNIFER. Just swing and hold on. Jennifer..."
She is swinging like a champ all by herself. She seems to have tuned Grandpa out. Grandpa gets the message:
"Jennifer, got off the swing. GET OFF THE SWING JENNIFER. Go take a break. GET SOME WATER AND TAKE. A. BREAK, JENNIFER!"
Jennifer sighs and gets off the swing. She goes over to the bench, takes out her water bottle and sips casually. Grandpa is still pushing the younger granddaughter rather forcefully as he glares at Jennifer. After a loaded pause, he can't take it anymore:
"Jennifer, relax. RELAX! Drink you water and sit back. Drink your water and sit back. TAKE A BREAK JENNIFER."
He then turns to me and confidentially says:
"Sorry about that, guy. You know, you just gotta INSTILL it in them, or..."
I smile knowingly and mumble something about how I hear that, boy howdy. I continue pushing my sunny, giggly kid on the swing and silently make a vow not to try to "instill" anything in her for the rest of the day, at least.
Sep 26, 2010
Anyone checked in on Skynet lately?
I recently downloaded a virus-scanning app to my phone the other day. It works pretty well, except that it's ad-supported which sometimes makes for a confusing narrative.
Case in point, last time I ran a virus scan:
"Your phone is very clean."
read the screen as usual, followed by a green-checked list of clean files. However, the small banner ad at the bottom (for life insurance?) was made up of a single, jarring sentence:
"When will you die?"
Taken together as two sentences (excluding the bullet-list), I was looking at the beginning of a very odd, existential conversation that I couldn't resolve for the better part of the day.
I'm still having trouble not thinking my phone has it out for me.
Aug 27, 2010
One... Crazy Summer
Or was it Fall? Don't trust any temperature over 30!
The weather in Seattle this summer has mirrored a bit of the nutzoid, roller coaster-y business that we here at Beets Central have been experiencing, career-wise. It's been lots of great stuff, to be sure. The type of opportunities, along with their all-at-once-ness, has made this a rare and welcome season of bounty. I suppose I wouldn't be a Westerner if I didn't sit back and soak it up a bit. Not to say I'm entitled beyond being the right person for the job, but, well, it's nice to be the right person for the job for a change. More than once, even.
Of course, I wouldn't be an East Coast kid if I didn't also squint into the bright lights a little. I want to hang on to these successes, to bank them a bit and leverage them into more things like them. Less greedy than hoarding, I think. Perhaps more difficult than the lack of film and TV work in Seattle is the uphill struggle to produce any momentum with your successes here. Once the summer is over, these exciting new credits sit quietly on the resume and become old news. Holding the top positions for months, perhaps longer, before another "big job"rolls through.
Not to get all gloomy, though, and truthfully my overall ambition is pretty focused. I'm working with the good folks at WA FilmWorks to help keep local actors informed about what's going on to bring, keep and foster film production here in the Northwest. And I do know it's not about waiting for those big jobs. There are plenty of opportunities that come up locally, between indie film stuff, voice-overs and commercial work. As always, though, it's a matter of continuing to be the right person for the job - as a friend recently said, "it's all about the hustle." Indeed, the mantra this summer has been I just want to work.
And just to round out the summer, I managed to get cast in another indie feature. Stay tuned for more info there. In the meantime, check out "The King George Job" episode of Leverage on TNT, this Sunday at 9/8c. I'm the British customs chap at the end. Cheerio!
Jul 21, 2010
Try it! It's delicious!
I was cleaning out some of my accumulated Internet gatherings today and stumbled across a nearly-abandoned del.icio.us account of mine (apparently just called delicious.com now that Yahoo! owns it).
If you're unfamiliar, delicious.com a web-based bookmarking service that I used for about 5 seconds before getting distracted by LOLCats or FaceTube or my own reflection or snack food... yummmm...
Nonetheless! It was kinda fun going through some of the sites I wanted to remember once upon a time. So now, I'm passing the weird savings* on to you, gentle reader:
*actual monetary savings subject to not existing.
**recommendation: do the latter before you do the former. Got that? It's former after latter, or, latter first, then former. Not vice versa. FOR GOD'S SAKE ARE WE CLEAR??
If you're unfamiliar, delicious.com a web-based bookmarking service that I used for about 5 seconds before getting distracted by LOLCats or FaceTube or my own reflection or snack food... yummmm...
Nonetheless! It was kinda fun going through some of the sites I wanted to remember once upon a time. So now, I'm passing the weird savings* on to you, gentle reader:
- Want to learn how to make your own Kombucha Tea?
- Mac users! Ever wonder how to make those tricky French accents?
- Need to buy a $12 Rap from a Rap Master?
- What about learning how to take a nap (from a nap master)?
- Say, you office cutup! Where's that instant rimshot when you need it?
- You guys, learning about Seattle's history is awesome!
- So is this photoset of my band, "Awesome"!
- Are you having a baby, or would you rather visit Saint Louis**?
- How would you translate this entire post into binary? And for Pete's sake,
*actual monetary savings subject to not existing.
**recommendation: do the latter before you do the former. Got that? It's former after latter, or, latter first, then former. Not vice versa. FOR GOD'S SAKE ARE WE CLEAR??
May 31, 2010
Late to the party... again
So I went and joined Twitter for real this time (over to the right, third section down). I'm not usually an impulsive person, but sometimes I study and weigh an issue for a stupidly long time, come a decision and then proceed to completely do a 180 when someone makes even a remotely good argument against what I'd decided.
In this case, the decision had been "I'll use Twitter under a mysterious handle and refuse to say anything informative. By keeping it cryptic, I'll fly in the face of the very shorthand that is Twitter culture! Using guerrilla poetry tactics, I'll knock the system on its ear!" What happened, what always happens when I get a wild hair to rage against the machine, is simply that people didn't notice and got confused. The truth is, I'm not really an against-the-machine rager. More like a make-a-reasonable-change-from-inside-the-machine- while-providing-team-building-spirit-and-good-humor. Also in this case, the agent provocateur was my dad. As is his way, he managed to inadvertently point up, once again, a simple truth: Some things just aren't important enough to use for any purpose other than what they're meant for. Like using a screwdriver as a swizzle stick. Sometimes a cigar is just a euphemism for a long thing that you put in your mouth and light on fire. Life is short and often boring. Pick your battles. He didn't say all this, I'm still working out some guerrilla poetry.
So yeah, Twitter. Getting to know you... just don't try anything funny. I've got whole machine in here just waiting for a reason to get all raged against. I mean it this time!
In this case, the decision had been "I'll use Twitter under a mysterious handle and refuse to say anything informative. By keeping it cryptic, I'll fly in the face of the very shorthand that is Twitter culture! Using guerrilla poetry tactics, I'll knock the system on its ear!" What happened, what always happens when I get a wild hair to rage against the machine, is simply that people didn't notice and got confused. The truth is, I'm not really an against-the-machine rager. More like a make-a-reasonable-change-from-inside-the-machine- while-providing-team-building-spirit-and-good-humor. Also in this case, the agent provocateur was my dad. As is his way, he managed to inadvertently point up, once again, a simple truth: Some things just aren't important enough to use for any purpose other than what they're meant for. Like using a screwdriver as a swizzle stick. Sometimes a cigar is just a euphemism for a long thing that you put in your mouth and light on fire. Life is short and often boring. Pick your battles. He didn't say all this, I'm still working out some guerrilla poetry.
So yeah, Twitter. Getting to know you... just don't try anything funny. I've got whole machine in here just waiting for a reason to get all raged against. I mean it this time!
Apr 14, 2010
Why I love living here: part 837
I know this stuff is old news to Seattle folks in-the-know, but just this week I've used all three of these and thought 'pon how insanely convenient they are. And the only thing better than insane clowns is insane convenience. I totally missed my calling as a copywriter.
Anyhoo:
1) BECU's Snapshot ATMs - Man, do I love these. No deposit slips, just pop in your card, press a few buttons, in goes your signed check or cash, and you're done. It'll even spit out a receipt with a snapshot of your check on it (hence the name, duh). Fight the power: join a credit union!
2) ORCA Card - Just so much easier than cash or even a bus pass. No worrying about zones or transfers or switching from KC Metro to Sound Transit or whatever. I'm testing my limits of nonchalance whenever I get on the bus now. Just how little energy can I use to pay my fare? It's a fun game.
3) OneBusAway.org - A few minor glitches and negligible functionality oversights are nothing compared to the fact that this is like having a magic, real-time bus finder in your pocket (or on your desktop). Honestly, once I found this, I rethought our current car situation (we still need a car, but hey: rethinking!). It made me love public transit all over again... for the very first time.
Anyhoo:
1) BECU's Snapshot ATMs - Man, do I love these. No deposit slips, just pop in your card, press a few buttons, in goes your signed check or cash, and you're done. It'll even spit out a receipt with a snapshot of your check on it (hence the name, duh). Fight the power: join a credit union!
2) ORCA Card - Just so much easier than cash or even a bus pass. No worrying about zones or transfers or switching from KC Metro to Sound Transit or whatever. I'm testing my limits of nonchalance whenever I get on the bus now. Just how little energy can I use to pay my fare? It's a fun game.
3) OneBusAway.org - A few minor glitches and negligible functionality oversights are nothing compared to the fact that this is like having a magic, real-time bus finder in your pocket (or on your desktop). Honestly, once I found this, I rethought our current car situation (we still need a car, but hey: rethinking!). It made me love public transit all over again... for the very first time.
Apr 6, 2010
Simply enchanted by the sound of my own voice
In case you haven't deduced that I tend to let things go for a while by the frequency of posts on this blog (oh, hello April 2010!), I am proud to announce that after more than 12 years of procrastinating, I have finally recorded a Professional Voice Demo. TaDa!
No more idle complaining that I never get hired for voice work, to say nothing of the fact that this is a long-overdue checkbox for my agent who took me on specifically to cast me as a voice talent (at least I had acting to fall back on... uh, right?).
Well, better late than never. Let the Pizza Hut radio spots commence!
No more idle complaining that I never get hired for voice work, to say nothing of the fact that this is a long-overdue checkbox for my agent who took me on specifically to cast me as a voice talent (at least I had acting to fall back on... uh, right?).
Well, better late than never. Let the Pizza Hut radio spots commence!
Dec 30, 2009
It was 20 years ago today
Well, not today as much as this year...
Before we say goodbye to 2009 and the first decade of the 21st century, I must direct Beets' attention toward a point worth remembering:
The year was 1989 and, for some reason, it was an astounding year for music. Watershed releases from De La Soul, The Stone Roses, 2Live Crew (I know!), Fine Young Cannibals, Fugazi (x2), The Grateful Dead (x2), Tom Petty, Milli Vanilli (x0, turns out), Queen Latifah, The Pixies, The Beastie Boys, XTC, The Cure, The Offspring, The Sugarcubes (say, what kinda name is "Bjork"?), Faith No More, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Replacements, Prince, The B-52's (comeback!), David Bowie (comeback!), Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden- oh hell, just visit the link and see for yourself and be amazed.
It was a year book-ended by some great albums as well. Public Enemy got us coming and going at the decade mark with It Takes a Nation of Millions... in '88 and Fear of a Black Planet in '90 ("WTF happened to hip-hop that matters" is a subject of another very long, table-pounding discussion we should have sometime over a 40 of OE). The Sundays also punctuated the beginning of crush-pop with 1990's precious (in a good way) Reading, Writing & Arithmetic. Oh, how I would have kicked a boy for you, Harriet Wheeler...
Sure, I was just getting into music and out of high school that year, so perhaps my hindsight lens is stuck on its greatness along with senior year, driving, making out and generally poor risk assessment. And of course, there were great albums that came out since then, but really, anyone who considers 3 Feet High and Rising, Doolittle, Paul's Boutique or Don't Tell a Soul non-essential listening obviously hates music. Oranges and Lemons? The Raw and the Cooked? 13 Songs? Come on! And while Billy Joel and Elton John continued to wage their war on rock-and-roll that year, 1989 answered back with Suicidal Tendencies' underwhelming-yet-expertly-titled Controlled by Hatred/Feel Like Shit... deja vu. We heard overtures of greatness from misfit power-trios called Nirvana and Green Day. Even Paul McCartney and Bob Dylan made respectable showings that year*.
What was it about 1989? Anyone?
So here's to 2009, okay sure, see ya later. Musically, though, you're no 1989. Now get off my lawn, Lady Gaga!
*I will leave this point to be debated at length by the rabid fans/haters of said artists. I'm not about to get into a slap-fight over those two dinosaurs.
Before we say goodbye to 2009 and the first decade of the 21st century, I must direct Beets' attention toward a point worth remembering:
The year was 1989 and, for some reason, it was an astounding year for music. Watershed releases from De La Soul, The Stone Roses, 2Live Crew (I know!), Fine Young Cannibals, Fugazi (x2), The Grateful Dead (x2), Tom Petty, Milli Vanilli (x0, turns out), Queen Latifah, The Pixies, The Beastie Boys, XTC, The Cure, The Offspring, The Sugarcubes (say, what kinda name is "Bjork"?), Faith No More, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Replacements, Prince, The B-52's (comeback!), David Bowie (comeback!), Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden- oh hell, just visit the link and see for yourself and be amazed.
It was a year book-ended by some great albums as well. Public Enemy got us coming and going at the decade mark with It Takes a Nation of Millions... in '88 and Fear of a Black Planet in '90 ("WTF happened to hip-hop that matters" is a subject of another very long, table-pounding discussion we should have sometime over a 40 of OE). The Sundays also punctuated the beginning of crush-pop with 1990's precious (in a good way) Reading, Writing & Arithmetic. Oh, how I would have kicked a boy for you, Harriet Wheeler...
Sure, I was just getting into music and out of high school that year, so perhaps my hindsight lens is stuck on its greatness along with senior year, driving, making out and generally poor risk assessment. And of course, there were great albums that came out since then, but really, anyone who considers 3 Feet High and Rising, Doolittle, Paul's Boutique or Don't Tell a Soul non-essential listening obviously hates music. Oranges and Lemons? The Raw and the Cooked? 13 Songs? Come on! And while Billy Joel and Elton John continued to wage their war on rock-and-roll that year, 1989 answered back with Suicidal Tendencies' underwhelming-yet-expertly-titled Controlled by Hatred/Feel Like Shit... deja vu. We heard overtures of greatness from misfit power-trios called Nirvana and Green Day. Even Paul McCartney and Bob Dylan made respectable showings that year*.
What was it about 1989? Anyone?
So here's to 2009, okay sure, see ya later. Musically, though, you're no 1989. Now get off my lawn, Lady Gaga!
*I will leave this point to be debated at length by the rabid fans/haters of said artists. I'm not about to get into a slap-fight over those two dinosaurs.
Oct 22, 2009
Dear CNN.com
Do you even read the headlines you write?
And second, an "optional public option", huh? That grammar makes me want to drive my vehicular motor vehicle into a brick wall brick wall.
I bet Olympia Snowe totally does not approve of that headline. Watch your stock price.
With concern,
Beets
Optional public option enters health care talksFirst of all: "Enters" health care talks? Like, "oh hi fellas, it's me, Public Health Care Option. I know you haven't been thinking about me a lot so I'm just gonna go ahead and enter all up in your considerations right about now. Hope I'm not a polarizing factor in the discussion or anything! LOL!!!1!!!"
And second, an "optional public option", huh? That grammar makes me want to drive my vehicular motor vehicle into a brick wall brick wall.
I bet Olympia Snowe totally does not approve of that headline. Watch your stock price.
With concern,
Beets
Oct 16, 2009
Internet immortality in 3... 2... 1...
Oct 14, 2009
Explain please
I really don't know what to make of this.
"I think, therefore I'm single"
Misogynistic? Self-effacing? Passive-aggressive?
I spent way too much time weaving in and out of traffic trying to figure out this bumper sticker today. Help me, The Internet!
Aug 25, 2009
Now it can be told
I'm [an extra] in the new Pearl Jam video:
I'm in the front row of the crowd - first glimpse of me if you pause it at 0:15, in the green shirt just to the right of the singer. Arms up, mouth open, bearded. Then in various cutaways after that. At 1:28, for example. Not that I kept track...
I was legally bound (BOUND) to keep my mouth shut about it until it was released, but it was a fun shoot. I've never been an enormous PJ fan (extras weren't told what band we'd be cheering til we got to the set. Super secret!), but they rocked it. Total pros and amazing musicians to see up close.
And I have to say, the song is pretty good too. Heard it once and tapped my foot. After hearing it 12 more times during the shoot, I was genuinely, as they say, rocking out.
I'm in the front row of the crowd - first glimpse of me if you pause it at 0:15, in the green shirt just to the right of the singer. Arms up, mouth open, bearded. Then in various cutaways after that. At 1:28, for example. Not that I kept track...
I was legally bound (BOUND) to keep my mouth shut about it until it was released, but it was a fun shoot. I've never been an enormous PJ fan (extras weren't told what band we'd be cheering til we got to the set. Super secret!), but they rocked it. Total pros and amazing musicians to see up close.
And I have to say, the song is pretty good too. Heard it once and tapped my foot. After hearing it 12 more times during the shoot, I was genuinely, as they say, rocking out.
Aug 21, 2009
You waited this long...
...just for a stupid meme:
It would take 15 Manhattans to kill me
So there you go, would-be assassins. But I warn you: I get pretty "handsy" around #5, so leave your boundary issues at the door when you come to do me in.
It would take 15 Manhattans to kill me
So there you go, would-be assassins. But I warn you: I get pretty "handsy" around #5, so leave your boundary issues at the door when you come to do me in.
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