A Frivolous Lawsuit I Could Get Behind

Chicagoist: Movement To Ban Commercials Before Movies. I hate when they show commercials before movies. I love the trailers. Even a bad trailer is fun to watch. The commercials though have to go.

Obligatory Oscar Thoughts

...don't worry, this is not a critique
I won't lie. I love the Oscars. I remember watching as a child and thinking one day that will be me there. As I got older I stopped chasing fame and set my eyes on a bigger prize, happiness. I still have warm feeling though about wanting to be in the movies. The thought of putting together all of the elements required to make a great movie is outstanding. I performed in one movie, a low budget comedy with Judy Tenuta. I wasn't very good but the process was interesting to watch. The job as an actor in a movie can be a bit tedious if you are not the lead or supporting actor. You wait around...a lot. Everything has to be set just right. The lights have to be focused. The sound has to work. The camera has to be set and so many other details.

Blah Blah Blah. I almost started to bore myself. Let's talk about The 77th Annual Academy Awards. I will lead with a positive. Mom called me as I was working on the poster design for "Straight & Nappy". She wanted me to turn on the television and see Beyonce in her black dress on the red carpet. My mother doesn't normally call to give me a must-see-tv-fashion call. I figured I will check out the dress. Wow! That Beyonce certainly knows how to serve it up. She looked great all night long. Then Star Jones Reynolds starts talking so I turned down the sound. I later took in some priceless bits at the party.

I was ready when Dawn and Luis arrived earlier than expected. My outfit was not completely working for me because I didn't have the right jacket. I improvised with another jacket because of the pants. The pants were great but I couldn't really hold things in my pocket without looking obscene or being a total fashion victim.

We headed to Evanston to celebrate at the home of a famous American Stage Director and his lovely wife. And their kids are so cute. You know when you buy a wallet or a picture frame and their are pictures of these really cute white kids? Well these kids look better. And they have great personalities too.

Most of the usual suspects were in attendance although Sarah was missing. Kate ran all things technical. The famous American Stage Director and the Mother Of The Cute Kids had lovely wine and delicious food including this Butternut Squash soup that was warm liquid goodness. The desserts were all sweet. The TiVo had been set so we could take our time and watch the show commercial free and skip speeches we didn't care about. Come on, like we're the only ones that think that?

$5 got you a chance to win the pot if you could guess the most winners. We all filled out our ballots. Everyone had their own systems. I had my own system. I followed the buzz. I saw a few of the films but not all. I didn't see any of the documentaries but you can bet if it is about the holocaust or children, it is usually a shoe-in. Other categories just seemed obvious from the critics. The moment my ballot landed in the pink bowl I felt remorse. I thought I was going to do pretty well but I still had some regrets. I knew that Sideways would win "Best Adapted Screenplay" but I still voted for Million Dollar Baby. I wasn't sure how far the Million Dollar Baby sweep was going to go. I also erred on "Best Picture." I thought The Aviator might take it, I was wrong.

We gathered in the entertainment room and started with some E! Red Carpet coverage. Thank goodness for TiVo. The coverage is bad. I liked it better when we didn't have the tv red carpet hoopla. Just give us the highlights later. Once we sped through the carpet coverage, we watched the big show. As I stated before, I won't critique the show. Everyone is doing it and I feel rebellious.

I'll say this, I had a wonderful time hanging out with great people. We made snarky comments throughout the whole program and our hosts' always know how to make a cozy nice time.

BTW, I lost the Oscar pool by one vote. That's right, one, ein, uno. Damn you Sideways.

Halle, You've Earned a Timeout

Hallie Berry is actually a good actress. I have enjoyed in her many films before celebrity wrecked her. Jungle Fever was all about the drugged out brother. Though it was the side plot it was far more interesting and far more dangerous an issue than interracial dating. The intensity of Samuel L. Jackson was supported and amped by his crack-head girlfriend played by Halle Berry. I have other Berry favorites. There is Introducing Dorothy Dandridge, Boomerang, Queen, Monster's Ball and Losing Isaiah. I didn't like all the films but I loved her in them. So why is she now accepting Razzies? Halle, bless your heart for being such a good sport but they mean to demean you. Don't accept the award. Go and start behaving like an actor again and stop being a stupid celebrity. Halle Berry 'Honored' As Worst Actress

I Do Believe in Fairies

This animated short,Right-Wing Ralphie , got past me earlier this month but it is some good satire.

Numa Numa Indeed

Internet Fame Is Cruel Mistress for a Dancer of the Numa Numa. We've all seen the video of the teenager dancing to a Romanian Pop song. There is even an alternate version. Poor kids become famous and wasn't ready. 'Cause fame costs...and right here is where you start paying it...

Boo ABC Boo

Cut From the Oscars: Cartoon Characters' Sins. This is a number that was cut from tonight's show. What a shame? It sounds like fun. Marc Shaiman's work is tops to me. The same for his partner Scott Whittman. Hairspray and South Park: Bigger Longer & Uncut are both great. I wonder if Robin Williams will ever get to perform it?

Saturdays Mean Shameless Self-Promotion

words, originally uploaded by mylilpip.

I'm Definitely Going to Hell

I heckled a preacher on the train yesterday. True story. For the record, I am not anti-Christian. My entire family is very religious. My mother was a single parent under 30 with 3 kids. It was her belief that "Jesus will make a way" that kept her motivated and strong. I can't be mad at that. I don't believe it but I don't sweat it. I think it was her awesome fortitude and discipline that made her strong. My mother is even an ordained minister although I don't think she preaches anymore. I don' t know. I don't care. I have heard enough sermons.

It is not their message that even bothers me. It is their method. Major US cities always have some freaks who feels obligated to take advantage of a captive crowd (like public transit) and force them to listen to their Jesus talk. I know that people love them some Jesus and want to tell the world but please fucking don't. This is America for goodness sake. Do you think I haven't heard the message that "Jesus Saves"? I have purposefully made a decision to ignore it. And I want to ignore you. I finished working and I want as much peace as possible. I do not want someone to try to force their religious ideas on me. You could at least ask me if I want to hear what you have to say. Show people some common goddamn courtesy. If someone else was on talking about Allah or Satan, I would feel the same way.

So my story goes like this: I teach improv and comedy writing at a high school on Chicago's southside 3x a week after school. Thursday is like the day that I get excited because I don't have to deal with high school kids again until Tuesday. I am relieved that I no longer have to be "the adult." I can let my hair down and be myself again. Jordan, my teaching partner, and I ride the green line to Roosevelt (the coldest spot in Chicago) and then transfer to the northbound red line.

When the red line arrived we chose our car and stepped in. We were still having our post-class review when we were interrupted by this guy just preaching about Heaven and Hell. He told the train that our souls were in jeopardy. It was so clear that everyone on the car was uncomfortable. Some got up and moved to other cars (although you are not supposed to travel from car to car anymore). Others tried to bury themselves in their books or newspapers.

The preacher went on despite his audiences obvious lack of interest. "Jesus said go out amongst the people," he said. "So GO then," I said, "go out, immediately." He rolled his eyes at me and then kept preaching. "Some people don't want to hear what I have to say," the preacher continued. "I don't," I chimed out, "I just want to go home with some peace and effin quiet." Jordan is getting nervous but I don't care. I figure if I am forced to listen to this guy. He is going to listen to me. "He came unto his own and his own received him not," the preacher said. "Maybe he was boring like you," I added.

Jordan couldn't take it anymore. I don't know if he was afraid for our safety or embarrassed by my side show. I asked him if he wanted to change cars. He quickly said, "yes." We changed train cars at the next stop and Jordan gave me one of his patented, "Pip, you are a freak" looks. I didn't care. We no longer had the preacher. The man had irritated me and I had paid him back in kind.

If I am wrong about this whole Jesus Saves thing, I hope the brother will forgive me and send me a Rapture Letter.

A Reason For Me To Appreciate the CTA

I don't drive very often. Mostly when I travel someone takes me. Drives me, flies me, whatever. Parking? What's that? I surfed to Wow Report and found I Park Like An Idiot - You suck at parking! Let the world know it!.

We Still Matter

Anglican Church Asks U.S., Canada to Leave. That's payback for being nice to the gays.

Let Me Hear Ya

I got this music meme from Rod:

1. Total amount of music files on your computer:
I use my roommate's Mac and have uploaded 441 songs

2. The last CD you bought was:
The Very Best of Rufus Featuring Chaka Kahn

3. What is the song you last listened to before reading this message?
Somebody Got Lucky by Angela McCluskey (The Things We Do)

4. Write down 5 songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you:

Golden by Jill Scott (Beautifully Human) I find it life affirming and appeals to
lingering optimism. It is like church without the yakety-yak talking

Walking in the Sun by Rufus featuring
Chaka Kahn (Rags to Rufus) Sweet with great Chaka vocals. Inspirational and
reminds me to think positively.

In Between the Heartaches by Ron Isley
(Here I Am: Isley Meets Bachrach) - Beautiful vocals with a great arrangement. I also love a good torch song.

It's Gonna Take a Miracle by Laura Nyro
(Gonna Take a Miracle) - The vocals aren't as pretty as Denise William's version but it is so haunting and full of yearning.. Another great torch song.
Plus the backing vocals are by LaBelle.

Car Wash by Rose Royce. I just like
it. It always make me want to boogie.

5. Who are you going to pass this stick to? (3 persons) and why?
I guess the flyest white girl LL Cool P, and Quaker Warrior Sarah (see you
Sunday). That's it.

We Still Matter II

Don't Ask, Don't Tell cost $200 million. And here I am struggling to pay the rent.

We Still Matter

Canadian Lawmakers Swamped With Anti-Gay Mail From US. It's not bad enough that we have these bible thumping kill-joys messing up our lives but now they are sticking their noses in other country's bizness. Aren't these the same people that were offended when Brits sent Ohioans letters urging them not to vote for Bush? My biggest grievance with these folks is that they use the bible to to abrade civil rights. Neither the US or Canada are religious states. Get over it.

P.S. If you people want to be true Christians then I suggest you try following Christ. If I remember the New Testament clearly, Jesus spent most of his time giving to those that society deemed "sinful castouts." He spent a great deal of time with "degenerates" such as the woman at the well. He NEVER once challenged the Romans to change their laws. He NEVER spoke against homosexuality. Read your bible.

The Long Weekend, Conclusion

Last weekend I had this gig from Hell in Dallas. After putting up with ill-mannered clients and sleep deprivation, it was time to go home.

We arrived at the airport around 1:40 pm for our 3:00 flight. DFW is a huge airport and it took a while to get to our gate. We sat at the gate for about 10 minutes before we informed that we had a gate change. The new gate was only two doors away. We sat at the new gates until 2:30 pm when an announcement came over saying that we would be delayed because of air traffic control. Apparently the visibility at O'Hare Airport was not good and every flight was backed up because of it. The flight would be delayed until 3:45 pm. We all groaned and pulled out reading material. We were all still feeling a bit tense from the stressful weekend and thought it was best to give each other a little personal space.

At 3:30 pm, we were told that the flight was delayed until 4:15 pm. I had to take a stroll. I wanted to see if I could find a Sunday Chicago paper. I went looking for a newspaper/magazine stand. The stand didn't have the Chicago papers so I decided to maybe buy a mag. While I was perusing Jet Magazine my cell phone vibrated (I love the vibrate setting). It was Mark, one of the actors that I was traveling with back to Chicago. He said that I needed to hurry back to the gate because our flight was cancelled and we needed to re-book.

I jetted back to our gate to find an incredibly long line with Bill (our producer) and Katie (another actor) at the head of the line. Bill volunteered to re-book all of us since we were traveling together. Bill managed to get three of us on the 5 pm flight and he was booked on a later flight but listed as stand-by on the 5 pm flight. Great, we get to wait some more.

I decided that now would be a good time to call my best friend Patchy in Brooklyn. Patchy and I usually talk at least once or twice a week but not as often since I have been working on Straight & Nappy. Patchy and I talked about absolutely nothing and absolutely everything at the same time (It is what we do best). I went through the whole Dallas saga; we talked about Project Runway; we discussed his black bottom cups he was baking; we discussed men with combovers; the grammys that aired that night; the oversaturation of Desperate Housewives in the press; and the breaking news of a shooting at a New York mall. An announcement came, the 5 pm flight would now be delayed until 5:20 pm. So we talked so more until Mom called. I told him I had to go. He had plans as well. He had to rush off to a mutual friend's place.

Mom told me that Grandaddy was feeling very ill. He had summoned all of his Peoria area children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren to his home. He wanted all of the out of towners to call him immediately. I wasted no time calling Grandaddy. Grandaddy is suffering from pancreatic cancer combined with his many years of diabetes. H was losing the battle. Something in my gut let me know that he was not going to die as soon as expected. I understood that he wanted his suffering to end but he was not quite at the death's door. I made him laugh a bit and then I reminded him that you live until you die. Unless we decide to end our lives, we keep going. My grandfather is not the suicidal sort. He is a brave man but suicide is not his style. He's too scared he may die and go to Hell for that. BTW, he survived and I visited him this past Sunday.

No sooner had I hung up with Grandaddy before my roommate called to find out when I was coming home. It was now 5:30 pm, the time I was supposed to have originally arrived back in Chicago. I told him of the delays and asked me to let the dogs out of their kennel when I arrived home. He was off on a date at a downtown hotel with a long distance paramour. I told him that I would take care of it and if I thought I would be stranded in Dallas I would call his cell phone.

The plane finally boarded around 6 pm. We were told just before we boarded that we would taxi away from the gate but we would still be delayed on the runway. And the airline kept its word. We were stuck inside that box sitting on the runway for another 1 1/2 hours. The good news is that Bill made it onto the flight. The other good news is that despite the fact that I had been moved to a middle seat on this flight, I sat next to a great guy that bought me drinks (don't be jealous MoFos). A couple of vodka on the rocks can make an unpleasant travel experience a little bit better. Turns out this guy was the general manager for Mexican restaurant around Second City and was a big fan of improv and Second City. He was good company until the Royal Crown kicked in and he fell asleep. No worries. I pulled out a crossword puzzle and worked on that until I fell asleep too.

We were approaching Chicago when the captain announced that due to air traffic control we would be circling Chicago for a bit before we could land. DAMMIT! When will this trip be over? At this point, I just wanted to be home. I had been up since 4:30 am. I had slept for maybe five hours since Thursday night. I was wiped.

We finally landed but then we had to find Bill's luggage. The travel gods smiled upon us. His bag was on our flight. We retrieved it and called for the limo to pick us up.

Our spirits were lighter in the limo. We had arrived back safely but it was still a 40-45 minute public transit commute for me from Second City. "Fuck it," I thought, "I'm taking a cab." I phoned Patchy to let him know that I was nearly home. He couldn't believe that I was just getting home. It was now 11:40ish pm. I arrived home, hung up with Patchy, and let the dogs out so they could "do their business."

Now you would think that I would go straight to bed because of the exhaustion but no, I now had insomnia. I stayed up watching the previous night's SNL hosted by Jason Bateman (not a particularly good episode BTW), The Simpsons, King of the Hill, and Desperate Housewives. I finally drifted off around 5 am.

It may be a while before I accept another gig in Dallas.

White Horse, Don't Ride the White Horse

The Drug to End All Drugs by Aina Hunter. There is positive news that there will be more studies of the controversial anti-drug drug ibogaine. I have an aunt that has been stuck to the pipe for years now. We all worry about her and I am a firm believer in rehab but any bit of help that people can get is great in my book. It would seem that psychological therapy combined with this drug would be an effective treatment.

I used to work with a man that overdosed on heroin twice. If you can believe it, he is still living. He still struggles with his desire for poison despite what it has done to his relationships, his physical appearance, and his life. I hope this drug is eventually approved and it helps those that can't seem to help themselves.

We Still Matter

Simpsons' Animates Gay Nuptials, and a Debate. Debate? When did conservatives start hating cartoons so much? Let it go people.

No Place Like Home

I just returned from my hometown of Peoria, IL. The purpose of the trip was to visit my grandfather, who is dying from terminal cancer. I love my grandfather very much and it pains me that he is so sick. I know that soon he will be put on medication that will rob him of regular faculties. I wanted to make sure that I got to spend time with him while he still recognized his eldest grandson.

The trip was less than 24 hours but it was so worth it. Grandaddy and I joked and talked. We watched Ray with Jamie Foxx. I had seen it before but it was better this time because Grandaddy loves Ray Charles and knew everysong. He was in good spirits. He has been receiving tons of company especially after he thought he was going to die last weekend. I had a feeling that he wasn't going to die but I can understand a man wanting suffering to end. At one point in our conversation, I repeated to Grandaddy my own mantra "You live until you die."

The bonus of the trip was spending time with my grandmother. I love Granny so much. She has been going through a lot with my grandfather's health. Her own health is not so great. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in early 2000 and is nearly at "survivor" status. She is one tough broad. She scared the hell out of me as a child. She could be really mean and stern but for some reason she always treated me special. Technically, she is the first person I came out to in my family. I didn't mean to but one day after a bad day with my first boyfriend, I called her in tears. I didn't change my story to hide Michael's gender but she never said anything negative. She told me to take care of myself and that heartaches come and go.

Granny and I watched TV and talked until she was started to doze off. I went to my Mom's house and went to bed. Mom was out of town. I got up this morning and took the bus back home.

When I arrived home. I had received some UPS packages. Yeah! Today I got The Very Best of Rufus featuring Chaka Kahn, Improvise: Scene from the Inside Out by Mick Napier, and I'm on my Way by Christopher David.

Straight & Nappy

Straight & Nappy back, originally uploaded by mylilpip.

Only 4 weeks left before we open my new show.

Sex is for FAGS!

Boys Abstinence-Only Education Coolness Program - courtesy of Page SixSixSix Mmm, that's good satire.

We Still Matter

Philadelphia Judge Clears Anti-Gay Group of Hate Crimes. Apperantly a bunch of anti-gay Christians used bullhorns and placards to bother people at Outfest. Now I wonder how they would feel if the gays hung outside of their church and raised a big old stink? LGBT Philadelphians, you know what you have to do.

Project Runway Reunion

I love Project Runway. Last night's episode featured all the contestants including the 9 that were eliminated. At one point, Jay (my current pick to win) confronted Vanessa about a "sour grapes" interview that she gave. I found that interview on-line. Popgurls.com: Interviews: Vanessa Riley

The Long Weekend, Part II

Things started getting tense in a rehearsal that we were told was going to be a tech rehearsal. We were expecting to come in, find our lights, do a sound check, and get out of there. Instead we were being directed by corporate types lacking creative sensibilities and tact. They were treating us like office peons that they had found off the streets. I wanted to shout out, "I have been doing this for 20 years. I know what I am doing. Shut the fuck up." Instead, I turned to our producer and said, "Tell them to work on the lights and sounds and I will do the acting."

After three hours of suffering through the notes and misdirection, our producer convinced them to let us go so we can work on our material. We had a few hours break and then we had to report back for a dress rehearsal. We were told to wear our costumes and be back by 5:45 pm.

I went back to the hotel and began studying my lines. I worked most of the time memorizing and going over my acting beats. I felt mostly prepared (let's say 80%). We met in the lobby of the hotel at 5:25 pm and went back to the Dallas Convention Center. Once there we were quickly herded to the performance space. We were miked up and then we waited. We waited some more. And then we waited a bit more.

We finally did a run of the show. We stumbled over a few lines but we made it through. The corporate types huddled and discussed whatever concerns they had with our producer. Our producer had asked them not to give the actor notes. He told them the best way to get us to do what they wanted was to go through him. He gave us the notes and then we were asked to do it again. We did. The second time was pretty much the same as the first. The corporate types huddled and discussed whatever concerns they had with our producer. They asked us to do it again. We did. The third time was like the first and the second. The corporate types huddled and discussed whatever concerns they had with our producer. Now we were getting frustrated. One of the corporate types asked us to do it again. Finally, one of the actors asked, "why?" The crew member said they wanted to see it again. The actor (not me by the way) said that we had done it three times and she wanted to know what else they needed to see.

The corporate type got angry and went to our producer. "You need to control your actors," she said, "one of them told me no and I am not used to being told no." GASP! There was another huddle with the corporate types and our producer and then, just like that, we were dismissed.

On the way back to the hotel our producer told us they wanted to make some cuts to our scene. They had even contemplated cutting our scene entirely. They didn't have confidence in our product. He told them that we had a very early morning call. We were tired and we needed our rest. He reminded them that we were professional actors from a respected 45 year old comedy institution. He got us out of a bad situation that night but they insisted that we be at the venue at 6:30 am the next morning.

I went back to my hotel room feeling exhausted. I studied my lines. I watched some TV. I went to bed.

I woke up at 4:30 am in a panic. I studied my lines again. I showered and dressed. I was in the hotel lobby by 6:10 and we were off to the convention center again.

There was a tension in the air. Everyone was very cold towards us. We were ushered into the venue and miked. And then we waited. And waited. And waited. During our wait, we ran our lines together. We sped through the scene several times until we finally got a go from the crew at 8:00 am. I was feeling brain dead but ready to get this show over.

My character entered from the audience. The beginning of the scene was going well but something happened about a third of the way in. I just went blank. Sweat beaded on my forehead as the whole room waited. The technicians, the crew, the corporate types with their assistants, and the other members of my cast, all seemed to be holding their breath but it was hopeless, I had forgotten my line. Finally, one of the corporate types yelled out my line. Thank goodness. I picked up my line and carried on. Then it happened again. I went up. I forgot another line. The corporate type yelled out my line. I picked it up and carried on. We finished the scene and I exited the stage sullenly.

There are no words for the embarrassment I felt at that moment. I had dropped the ball -- big time. My producer came up to me and told me that it was ok. He knew that I had memorized my lines. He had witnessed our line through earlier that morning. He told us that they were going to cut us because of my slip but he talked them out of some how. The corporate types said that they would feel better if they placed a copy of my lines at the foot of the stage, just in case. GASP! How embarrassing.

The show began about 1 1/2 hours later. I was so nervous. My neck and shoulders were in knots. All I could do backstage was pace. Our scene occurred about 30-35 minutes into the presentation. I was getting anxious for us to go on. Suddenly, I had an uncontrollable urge to pee. I asked the corporate type with headset posing as a stage hand if I could go to the bathroom. She said no. I told her that I would be right back. She said I was miked up and the show had started so no. I looked her dead in the eyes and said, "now listen, I have to pee this is non-negotiable." She relented and let me go. I ran to the toilet and returned a good 10-15 minutes before my entrance.

"You're on," said the corporate type with the headset. I entered the audience and took my place. The show went off without a hitch. The audience loved it and laughed their butts off. We were 2/3 through the scene when I looked at the floor and noticed that my lines were printed on several white sheets of paper.

Immediately after our scene we got the hell out of there. We didn't stay for the rest of the presentation. The environment was toxic. We were exhausted.

We went back to the hotel. Changed into comfy clothes and headed to the Texas Book Depository
. We were all interested in seeing it and we were walking distance from the location of our 35th president's assassination.

The museum was a wonderful piece of American history but we were all in such a strange state of mind following the experiences of the previous day and a half. Our producer bought us lunch. We went back to the hotel and made our way to DFW airport.

Check in at the airport was standard and we made our way to our gate. We were finally going home. We had been in Dallas for less than 30 hours but it felt like we had been there for 3 days.

Our flight back to Chicago was scheduled to depart at 3:00 pm but at 2:30 pm we were told that our flight was delayed until 3:45 pm. And then it was delayed until 4:15 pm. And then it was cancelled. GASP!

TO BE CONTINUED

The Long Weekend, Part II

Things started getting tense in a rehearsal that we were told was going to be a tech rehearsal. We were expecting to come in, find our lights, do a sound check, and get out of there. Instead we were being directed by corporate types lacking creative sensibilities and tact. They were treating us like office peons that they had found off the streets. I wanted to shout out, "I have been doing this for 20 years. I know what I am doing. Shut the fuck up." Instead, I turned to our producer and said, "Tell them to work on the lights and sounds and I will do the acting."

After three hours of suffering through the notes and misdirection, our producer convinced them to let us go so we can work on our material. We had a few hours break and then we had to report back for a dress rehearsal. We were told to wear our costumes and be back by 5:45 pm.

I went back to the hotel and began studying my lines. I worked most of the time memorizing and going over my acting beats. I felt mostly prepared (let's say 80%). We met in the lobby of the hotel at 5:25 pm and went back to the Dallas Convention Center. Once there we were quickly herded to the performance space. We were miked up and then we waited. We waited some more. And then we waited a bit more.

We finally did a run of the show. We stumbled over a few lines but we made it through. The corporate types huddled and discussed whatever concerns they had with our producer. Our producer had asked them not to give the actor notes. He told them the best way to get us to do what they wanted was to go through him. He gave us the notes and then we were asked to do it again. We did. The second time was pretty much the same as the first. The corporate types huddled and discussed whatever concerns they had with our producer. They asked us to do it again. We did. The third time was like the first and the second. The corporate types huddled and discussed whatever concerns they had with our producer. Now we were getting frustrated. One of the cororate types asked us to do it again. Finally, one of the actors asked, "why?" The crew member said they wanted to see it again. The actor (not me by the way) said that we had done it three times and she wanted to know what else they needed to see.

The corporate type got angry and went to our producer. "You need to control your actors," she said, "one of them told me no and I am not used to being told no." GASP! There was another huddle with the corporate types and our producer and then, just like that, we were dismissed.

On the way back to the hotel our producer told us they wanted to make some cuts to our scene. They had even contemplated cutting our scene entirely. They didn't have confidence in our product. He told them that we had a very early morning call. We were tired and we needed our rest. He reminded them that we were professional actors from a respected 45 year old comedy institution. He got us out of a bad situation that night but they insisted that we be at the venue at 6:30 am the next morning.

I went back to my hotel room feeling exhausted. I studied my lines. I watched some TV. I went to bed.

I woke up at 4:30 am in a panic. I studied my lines again. I showered and dressed. I was in the hotel lobby by 6:10 and we were off to the convention center again.

There was a tension in the air. Everyone was very cold towards us. We were ushered into the venue and miked. And then we waited. And waited. And waited. During our wait, we ran our lines together. We sped through the scene several times until we finally got a go from the crew at 8:00 am. I was feeling brain dead but ready to get this show over.

My character entered from the audience. The beginning of the scene was going well but something happened about a third of the way in. I just went blank. Sweat beaded on my forehead as the whole room waited. The technicians, the crew, the corporate types with their assistants, and the other members of my cast, all seemed to be holding their breath but it was hopeless, I had forgotten my line. Finally, one of the corporate types yelled out my line. Thank goodness. I picked up my line and carried on. Then it happened again. I went up. I forgot another line. The corporate type yelled out my line. I picked it up and carried on. We finished the scene and I exited the stage sullenly.

There are no words for the embarrassment I felt at that moment. I had dropped the ball -- big time. My producer came up to me and told me that it was ok. He knew that I had memorized my lines. He had witnessed our line through earlier that morning. He told us that they were going to cut us because of my slip but he talked them out of some how. The corporate types said that they would feel better if they placed a copy of my lines at the foot of the stage, just in case. GASP! How embarrassing.

The show began about 1 1/2 hours later. I was so nervous. My neck and shoulders were in knots. All I could do backstage was pace. Our scene occurred about 30-35 minutes into the presentation. I was getting anxious for us to go on. Suddenly, I had an uncontrollable urge to pee. I asked the corporate type with headset posing as a stage hand if I could go to the bathroom. She said no. I told her that I would be right back. She said I was miked up and the show had started so no. I looked her dead in the eyes and said, "now listen, I have to pee this is non-negotiable." She relented and let me go. I ran to the toilet and returned a good 10-15 minutes before my entrance.

"You're on," said the corporate type with the headset. I entered the audience and took my place. The show went off without a hitch. The audience loved it and laughed their butts off. We were 2/3 through the scene when I looked at the floor and noticed that my lines were printed on several white sheets of paper.

Immediately after our scene we got the hell out of there. We didn't stay for the rest of the presentation. The environment was toxic. We were exhausted.

We went back to the hotel. Changed into comfy clothes and headed to the Texas Book Depository
. We were all interested in seeing it and we were walking distance from the location of our 35th president's assisination.

The musuem was a wonderful piece of American history but we were all in such a strange state of mind following the experiences of the previous day and a half. Our producer bought us lunch. We went back to the hotel and made our way to DFW airport.

Check in at the airport was standard and we made our way to our gate. We were finally going home. We had been in Dallas for less than 30 hours but it felt like we had been there for 3 days.

Our flight back to Chicago was scheduled to depart at 3:00 pm but at 2:30 pm we were told that our flight was delayed until 3:45 pm. And then it was delayed until 4:15 pm. And then it was cancelled. GASP!

TO BE CONTINUED

Safe Sex Is Nothing New

A History of Real (Safe) Sex. This is a quick,fun, and cute article serves to remind us to protect ourselves when we play. And per usual, women had it worse than men. Take for example the tea brewed from beaver testicles to prevent pregnancy.

The Long Weekend, Part 1

Sweat beaded on my forehead as the whole room waited. The technicians, the crew, the clients with their assistants, and the other members of my cast, all seemed to be holding their breath but it was hopeless, I had forgotten my line...

The above was not a scene from a movie or novel. It happened to me on Sunday morning just two hours before I was scheduled to perform that scene. The moment was tense and scary but lets look back at the circumstances that led to that unfortunate event.

One Wednesday afternoon in January my phone rang. It was Bill, a producer at SC. He wanted to book me on a couple of gigs. One of these gigs was to take place in Dallas the weekend of Feb 12-13. I contemplated whether to take this job since I was already booked to perform Saturdays at 9 PM with Straight & Nappy in WORDS, Donny's Skybox, 4th floor Piper's Alley (shameless plug). Since WORDS is a showcase performance that doesn't pay, I took this gig thinking of the easy money.

Flash forward to last Friday, the day scheduled to rehearse for the Dallas gig. The producer, the director and the cast met for a short rehearsal (less than an hour). There was only one scene to perform and it was pretty simple. One actor was to pose as a doctor at a convention. She would be introduced as a legit doctor and begin addressing the attendees. Less than a minute into her speech, another phony doctor (played by me) interrupts her. I speak a bunch of nonsense until I am interrupted by a disgruntled patient. The scene ends when a real doctor interrupts and takes the stage for his presentation about the importance of digitizing medical records. We only a day and a half to memorize it but it was only one scene. None of us were worried.

After rehearsal I went for drinks and a quick bite with my cousin Trish. Trish, my first cousin on my Mom's side, is about 13 or 14 years my junior. It doesn't matter because we get along so well. I love her spirit and openness and she loves that treat her like a peer.

Trish and I drank for a couple of hours and then parted ways. She had to meet a friend downtown. The producer of the Dallas gig and I were off to see another actor from this gig in his own production entitled Homecoming at the Improv Olympic. The show was good but I was up for the night. I knew I had an early call so I decided to stay up all night. So the producer and I headed down to Berlin for Bjork night. We didn't stay long but we did stay late.

Bill, the producer, headed home to pack. I did the same but...I was feeling randy. I arranged to meet up with a good looking brother in my neighborhood to "keep me entertained" until I had to meet the others at Second City.

Cortez, the neighborhood fellow, and I had a great time doing things I don't discuss publicly. At 5 am, I left Cortez's place with my bag and headed downtown.

The others were at Second City waiting so we jumped into the limo and headed to O'Hare Airport for our trip to Dallas. I was fortunate to trade my aisle seat for a right side window (I always sleep towards the right) and slept from beginning to end of the flight.

We touched down at DFW on time and our driver took us to the beautiful Adolphus Hotel. We had two and 1/2 hours before our tech rehearsal so I took a nap. I woke up groggy but ready to go to the theatre and knock this rehearsal out.

Most tech rehearsals are for the sake of the crew. They need to see where the actors enter, move to onstage, and exit. We also do microphone checks at this time. A scene as simple as ours should take about 15 minutes to an hour depending on how organized the crew is. Our rehearsal was 3 hours. Why so long? Well, the client didn't want us to just do the technical elements of the show. They wanted us to do the show full out. We were not ready for that yet, especially me. I didn't know all my lines. I was a bit hungover and quite exhausted. The client didn't care. They wanted us to rehearse it over and over. The also committed a huge theatrical sin. They gave us notes. Their notes were not just about technical elements, such as "you are out of the light" or "your mic isn't picking you up." Their notes were the kinds of notes you receive from a director, a horrible director. The notes included such gems as "Why are you holding that script?" and "I need you two to deliver that line together." and "I'm not sure what you said comes off as funny." GASP! This is not good...

You Go Girl!

In what has to be one of the bravest statements made in a long time, Alan Keyes' daughter comes out. Good for you Maya.

Messing with My Mind

I hate when people send me forwarded jokes, puzzles, prayers, and tricks. I will usually delete them before I even check it out. For whatever reason, I decided to open this particular email from my sister. To my surprise it led to a link that trips me out. If anyone knows how this sucker works, email me.

Arthur Miller, Legendary American Playwright, Is Dead at 89

miller01, originally uploaded by mylilpip.

I just referenced one of Mr. Miller's play in my blog this week. He was a true American artist. His created what we would call Master Works of the Modern theatre. Willy Loman in "Death of a Salesman" is still a role I can't wait to play.

Big Fat Pip Smile

Today the sun is out in Chicago. I am sitting at the computer with a cup of tea. I am beaming. I am being rejuvenated. Today I am stronger than yesterday. At least I feel stronger.

Another One Bites the Dust

austinrunway, originally uploaded by mylilpip.

Bernard of Sex and the Second City turned me on to Project Runway. I knew from the first episode I watched that this was a show for me.

First,it is a talent contest. Of the reality show genres, this is my favorite. Skill is involved beyond personality and strategies.

Second, there were so many gay men involved in the show and it was no big deal. It is fashion. Who cares as long as the outfit is tight?

The show/competition seemed to have a lot of integrity as well with the exception of Robert's charm taking him to fifth place above Alexandra. Worse than that grievance is the cutting of one Austin Scarlett.

I love Austin. Everyone does. He will be a very successful designer and a star in the fashion world.

The biggest disappointment is that Wendy, that cold and manipulative bitch advanced. She seemed to be the only one playing the "reality show game." She had all kinds of strategies to win people's trust and then stab them in the back. When people realized she was a phony and then shunned her, she got defensive and couldn't believe that people were ganging up against her. That bitch is one big ol' bag of crazy. I know she is a mother and a genuine person behind her edited Project Runway persona but if this was a movie, that heifer would have had a house dropped on her ass.

Pop Quiz

People and Events in the American Civil Rights Movement

Something Evil Amongst Us

For the Worst of Us, the Diagnosis May Be 'Evil' I count on science to balance out the crazy talk caused by 1000s of years of religion and superstition. Now science is turning crazy on me. Evil is not scientific. It is a moral call and psychiatrists had better be careful or they will contribute to even more fear (see next post).

Fear Sells

Tying Illinois' prosperity to fear is a bad callFear is such a great tool. It fuels religion, war, and our current US society. Fear is what kept me in the closet; in the church; and emotionally impoverished. I think we will regret building our economy around fear much like the passing of anti-gay marriage laws.

I think of Arthur Miller's play, "All My Sons." The story of a war profiteer that loses the respect and love of his own family after the war is over. In fairness, I should say that the father in the play engages in some unethical behavior. I am not suggesting that Illinois Gov. Blagojevich wants us to do something that may endanger lives but his cause hardly seems noble. Let's put our resources towards building up our society instead of fueling the fear that will eventually destroy us.

Farewell to Keith Knudsen

Doobie Brothers drummer Knudsen dies I love the Doobie Brothers. A family friend, that I called Uncle Kenny, introduced me to them when I was a small child. Uncle Kenny was a drummer and he wanted to be the next Keith Knudsen. I remember Aunt Vera, Kenny's wife, complaining about all that racket he was making as he played "Taking It to the Streets" over and over again. I loved it. I loved the vibe. I loved the energy. And I loved when he would play "What a Fool Believes" with Michael McDonald woofing out those crazy vocals.

When I was a member of the Second City National Touring Company I performed a scene called "Pictionary." I would do it with Craig Uhlir, Bridget Kloss, and Molly Erdman. At the end of the scene, Craig and I would celebrate in song by singing "Taking It to the Streets." It made us laugh (even if the audience didn't) and we enjoyed ourselves. Thanks Doobs and farewell Keith.

We Still Matter

Va. House Passes Gay Marriage Ban (washingtonpost.com) My favorite part is when openly gay legislator Adam Ebbin warns them that one day they will be ashamed. I have been saying the same thing about this moment in American gay history. I think of Bush and his Federal Marriage Amendment. What will be his legacy? A war built on lies and the stripping of civil rights from an already oppressed class of men and women.

Ain't No Sunshine

Four days without my friend the sun. I will be okay though. The roommate is back so I no longer have to doggie-sit. Today is my first teaching day with the After school program. I feel like Jordan, my co-teacher, and I picked a good group of kids although one of the girls reminds me of a black Anna Nicole Smith. She's a little kooky without a strand of class.

Cabdriver's death tied to quarrel over $8 tab While the world is obsessed with Wacko Jacko. I am obsessed with Chicago's very own Michael Jackson. If you don't know, this may be the biggest case of gay white rage in history. There are many reasons for my fascination. Mr. Jackson is about my age, went to the same college that I did, and his family lives in Peoria (my hometown). Jackson is also involved with the Hearts Foundation, an AIDS organization and he works for the Chicago Public Health Dept's sexually transmitted disease/HIV/AIDS division.

The story is the talk of the town. I think that he is going to get a lower charge. He is white. The cab driver is Pakistani. I hate to be so jaded but it seems that some things never change. I hope that I am wrong.

You Are My Sunshine, My ONLY Sunshine

Even a blind man can tell when he's walking in the sun.

--Rufus featuring Chaka Kahn

Sunshine makes the cold Chicago winters bearable. This past week's mild temperatures gave many false senses of tropical delight. Others know, whether mild or cold, nothing beats the sun. Sun brings life and growth. Some of us need it to maintain a cheerful disposition. Chicagoans can expect 6 clear days, 6 partly cloudy days and a 47% chance of sunshine in February. Weatherbase.com. 47%? I stand a better chance of my roommate's chihuahuas peeing on the bath mat than seeing a ray of sunshine. There was no sunshine in Chicago today. If felt like it too. The phone rang early; the sky was gloomy; the dogs were whiny and with my roommate out of town I had to jump into action. I didn't want to work but with my show opening in less than 6 weeks, I had to write. I also had to work on marketing for Straight & Nappy. Oh clouds please clear and bring back the sun.

I continue to work. Writing, editing, and making phone calls. I trade a few e-mails with Dionna, the producer for WORDS, the showcase Straight & Nappy performed in this past Saturday. Our scene went off great, by the way. I was very pleased by the way we were received and it was a lot of fun. I play with the dogs for a bit more and phone a student from the after school program to tell him he is hired and he needs to show up tomorrow for his first day.

I have to leave this apartment. I haven't been anywhere in two days. Oh, I have to mail my taxes today. I'll do that right now. I head out into the gray afternoon to wait in the long postal line on Clark between Estes and Greenleaf. Shit. Now it's raining. At least my taxes are done. I've been gone too long. I didn't kennel the dogs. I head back home.

I write more. I edit a monologue I have been working on for over five years. I wrote it for a Juneteenth celebration but I have wanted to bring it back. I have rehearsal tonight. Straight & Nappy is not going to perform itself.

I kennel up the dogs and head out again into the damp gray. It is very early evening but it looks later. The train nearly lulls me to sleep but a woman with a driving need to tell the world how Jesus changed her life jostles me awake. Rebecca calls and I am so grateful. She drowns out the woman that felt impelled to dump her sad sack story on me while I was trapped in the moving metal box. I arrive at my stop and come dangerously close to being struck by a taxi driver that wasn't paying attention as he made a left turn. I see two friends across the street. I phone one but he doesn't pick up his cell. He calls me a little later to say that he and our other friend were having a bad day. Other victims of the overcast gloom.

Rebecca, Dre (my director), and I go to a restaurant to discuss the logistics of the show. We don't have a space tonight so we won't be rehearsing (again).

The rest of the evening as yet to be written because I am living it. I wonder if my roommate has a recording of ANNIE. I want to be optimistic about the weather but 47% chance of sunshine ain't that great but just maybe...The sun will come out tomorrow. Great...Guess who just peed on the bath mat?

Don't Be Scared, Be Aware

Today is National Black HIV/AIDS Awareness Day. 2005-NBHAAD. I get tested twice a year. The whole process has become routine to me. There are, however, many people that are still scared to be tested. They don't want to know their status. They believe that ignorance is bliss. Well, it is not. What you don't know could kill you. Be smart. Get tested. If you test positive, get medical treatment. Live healthier. Live longer.

My Current TV Crush

Keep your Kiefer Sutherlands, your soap stars, your Lost cast, and even the guys from Soul Food. The man that makes me smile is Tony Okungbowa.

Who? You know who he is: He Toils, He Spins (on Daytime TV), He Makes 'Ellen' Boogie. DJ Tony, I love the accent. I love the music. I love the look.

Tonight's the Night

words, originally uploaded by mylilpip.

WORDS, an African American performance showcase opens tonight @ 9 PM in Piper's Alley 4th Floor, Donny's Skybox. Special guest Straight & Nappy will perform a scene from their upcoming sketch comedy and musical revue.

Ozzie Davis, dead at 87

Ozzie
Originally uploaded by mylilpip.

A personal hero of mine. Actor, activist, playwright, and director. "Purlie Victorious" was one of the first scripted plays I ever performed.

Peace to Ruby Dee and the Davis family.

You Never Forget

A couple of weeks ago, I was checking out Lovehater . He had a post titled "Where are they know?" which featured the question: If you could find anyone you've lost contact with, who would it be?

I thought about this and could not easily come up with anyone. Then I remembered, Michael, my first boyfriend.

I met Michael when I started grad school. We were in the same MFA Acting Program at Northern Illinois University. I had fooled around with a few guys but for the most part I was on the DL when it used to be called plain old "closeted." I had only come out to some select close friends but no family members.

Michael hit on me the first week we arrived in DeKalb and I let him. He was funny. He was sweet. And he was musical (I have always had a sweet spot for pianists and singers). I also wanted to be liberated. I wanted to break free from the closet.

Michael inspired me to come out after I had a bout with the flu in 1991. Michael took care of me. He even called his mother, a nurse, for guidance on how to care for his boyfriend. I thought, "I couldn't call my mother if my boyfriend was sick." I felt ashamed. I was determined that I would come out to my family before the year was out. I didn't want Michael thinking that he wasn't important enough for me to share with my family.

I did come out. I came out to my sister on Christmas Eve and to Mom the day after Christmas. The following year was a tough one. There was school. There was dealing with my family and friends that now knew I was big ol' homo. And worse, Michael and I didn't make it as a couple. God knows we tried. We even went to family counseling. It's funny now. Eventually we broke up but the split was amicable. At the end of the first year of grad school, Michael left the MFA program and headed north to Minnesota. I think I spoke with him once more, by phone in 1993, since that day he left DeKalb.

I always wondered what happened to him. I tried to find him. Back in 2000 and 2001, I wrote to theatre companies where he had worked hoping that he would contact me. He never did...Until yesterday. Yesterday while temping I received this email:

Date: Thu, 3 Feb 2005 10:49:47 -0800 (PST)
From: Michael
Subject: Synchronisity (sic)
To: Pip

I was thinking about you two days ago. I was remembering you and us and wondering what has happened to you and where you were.

I did a google search of my name today and guess what pops up? Your blog. Nice words. Funny how the memory gets fuzzy. I remember most of that. I don't remember that it was your first kiss of a man in public. I'm flattered none the less.

Well well, Mr. Lilly...Second City no less. Quite impressive. You look as handsome as ever.

I guess it's time we catch up. (If you want to.)

Saw Andrew S******** in 1996. I was living in Pheonix (sic) at the time and happend (sic) to call his parents who gave me his number in Texas and he was moving his shit back to California and was driving through Phoenix so he stopped at my place for the night then talked me into riding with him to L.A. and helping him move in to his new apt.

Oh, my did we catch up.

I'm in Bangkok right now. Long story.

Toss me an email.

Love,

Michael

A friend at the big ad agency saw me right after I read the email. She said I was beaming. She was right. I could feel it. You probably could have hooked a generator up to me. It was nice to hear from Michael. You may move on but you never forget your first boyfriend. And you never forget coming out. And your first public kiss which, ironically, I wouldn't do today.

What Is Wrong with US?

Of all tyrannies, a tyranny exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end, for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.

-- C.S. Lewis

What is so wrong with progressive thinking? What is wrong with opening our minds? Why can't we as a US culture get past the narrow view of our traditionalist past and see the bigger picture of tomorrow?

Frank Rich's NY Times column addresses the decency issue which exploded one year and two days ago by a brief glance at Janet Jackson's tit. I hope none of those zealots watched Project Runway last night when Robert showed his cute little backside and it was no malfunction -- thank you Bravo. He also questions the "moral values" that are being forced on us for the sake of the children in our society. I am sick and tired of people saying shit like "I don't want my child to see that" or "Kids could get the wrong idea." Please, please, please give that shit up. How about this you over-breeding, overfed, bible-thumper? How about you stop shielding your child from the world and teach them about the joys and dangers of it? How about you take some time to explain to your child all the different choices there are in this life? Let them know that everything has a benefit and a consequence, even a titty. You say that we liberals are forcing our lifestyle on you? How about you stop forcing me to live my life based on your teachings to your children? Teachings that make children believe that world is a completely antiseptic place where there is no sexuality and everybody loves Jesus. That may be ideal for you but this still is America isn't it?

Take That, Fag

Because one of the deepest values of our country is compassion, we must never turn away from any citizen who feels isolated from the opportunities of America.

-George W. Bush, 2005 State of the Union Address

Here is what the speech writer cut: Unless you are some sort of gay homosexual then you should be alienated and shamed for the good of traditional values, the sanctity of marriage and America.

Dateline Gotham

I have been so busy for the last few days. Yesterday and today I have been temping at the big ad agency located in the Wrigley Building. It is a great gig. The work load is light. The people are nice to me. There are few cute guys. And there is an endless supply of chewing gum. In addition to the temp assignment I am producing, writing, and rehearsing my show Straight & Nappy which opens March 26. Straight & Nappy will also perform a scene from our show in Words opening at Second City this Saturday night.

My best friend moved to New York 6 years ago this month. I hate that he is so far but we usually talk on the phone 3-4 times a week. Lately with my schedule, this arrangement has not been practical or desirable. So, we have gone to email. I received this email today. I love it because it shows how much we think alike. Printed below are excerpts from his email and my response.

To: Pip
Subject:Celebrity Shmelebrity

Celebrity news...reality show news...I hardly know where to begin...

Heaven knows it's not an uncommon occurrence to see celebrities on the subway in NYC...after a while it does just sort of become like "Oh yeah...he/she looks taller/shorter/fatter/thinner/meaner/nicer in person" and then back to your reading...

So it's worth noting when you see someone that, if only for a moment, makes you go "Oh my God it's so-and-so!"...which is exactly what happened to me this morning.

So I'm minding my own business, as usual...couldn't get a seat, so I'm standing on the subway, one arm wrapped around a pole, reading my Entertainment Weekly, and basically not paying attention to anything going on around me...again, as usual. So imagine my surprise when I look up for a brief moment to discover that I am standing right next to, practically face-to-face with one Austin Scarlett. The recognition factor was so instant...there was no "Oh my stars is that Austin?" because there was just no denying it was him in all his glory...big chunky black glasses, layered flowing coat and blouse (it was not a shirt--it was a BLOUSE), and longish flowing blonde hair...I probably looked like my eyeballs were popping out of my head because I was so surprised to find him NOT three feet away on my TV, but rather three inches from my face on the F train.

I said nothing because...what was I going to say aside from "Hey! You're Austin!" And then he got off the train. But I thought you'd appreciate hearing about my brush with Project Runway greatness. My only quibble with the show at this point, which I love, is that it seems rather obvious that Kara Saun is the superior, most consistent designer of the group...and therefore, it seems so highly unlikely that she won't win. The previews seem to indicate that Wendy is going to self-destruct this week (and it's about time), and Robert really should have been gone a while ago (maybe over Alexandra or Kevin?)...which leaves Kara, Austin and, interestingly enough, Jay, as the three who will go to Fashion Week. I think that would be the most interesting showdown, at least design-wise, since the three of them all have individual styles that are very different from one another. But it's really Kara's to lose at this point.

Won't be home tonight to see the newest episode...going to see "La Cage" with Matt...but I'll probably have to watch it as soon as I get home. I'm enjoying Runway even more than the Race this season...because clearly, the only people left to root for on the Race are Kris and Jon. If that harpy Hayden wins, I may have to boycott the Race forevermore. She is absolutely intolerable. Aaron is a saint. I keep waiting for him to just SMACK her silly. But, in general, I've found the Race this season to be not as much fun as seasons past. Too much fighting! That's not what makes the show fun to watch, and I hope the producers aren't equating their spike in the ratings to the fact that they're showing so much more team conflict this season. It's exhausting and excruciating to listen to over and over and over again.

Speaking of excruciating, did you see that Jonathan and Victoria are going to be the featured guests on a special primetime episode of "Dr. Phil", where Jonathan's behavior and their relationship is explored and examined? I hope I have the strength to stop myself from watching. I'm not sure who I can't stand more...Jonathan or Dr. Phil. The combination of the two of them just sounds ugly.

And then there's the Idol...oh Idol. I love you Idol. Somehow it just doesn't get boring...wait let me rephrase that. The clips of the really awful auditions are getting kind of old, because now it's become a game of who's-really-that-bad and who's-pretending-to-be-that-bad-just-to-get-on-TV (like what exactly was the point of the mime audition?)...but I really appreciate the human interest-y stories that they're featuring so far this season. Especially some of the folks who, on their way into the room, don't look like they have a prayer...and then they open their mouths and it's like WHOA. Even when they don't make it through...I mean how could you NOT love the karaoke girl who sang "I Could Have Danced All Night" last night? Or the guy who's father said he'd never amount to anything? Or the young girl who was crying BEFORE her audition, who was so freakin' nervous in the room, but sang great? And who knew LL Cool J was such a softy? It seemed like every time he had to say no to someone, he'd get up and give them a hug. I guess better him than, say, Gene Simmons. I'm not sure a hug from Gene would do anyone any good. Maybe scare them and give them nightmares...but that's about it.

To: Patchy
Subject: RE: Celebrity Shmelebrity

I love it! This is why we are friends. you basically have said everything that I feel about these shows. I am going to publish some of your reality show comments on my blog.

I love Austin. You are so right about Kara and she would deserve to win. Robert, the charming straight guy, just flashes that smile at the judges and they buy his shit. The only design of his that worked for me was his "envy" suit. But that bathing suit - OMG that was so fugly. Speaking of which, do you know the Go Fug Yourself site? Hilarious.

BTW, I knew that LL was a sweetheart. I wish he would give me a hug. And the way I picture it, his shirt is off. He is soooooooooooooo Mmmmm! No words, just good sounds Mmmmmmmmmmmmm LL!

To: Pip
Subject: RE: RE: Celebrity Shmelebrity

Oh my stars! I'm going to be a published writer! What's your blog address again?

Enjoy Runway and Idol tonight...thank heaven Runway is on at 9PM...otherwise you might be stuck watching the fucking president talk about peace and freedom and whatever. God bless cable.

Whoa Cowboy, Put Down Your Weapon

I had to watch this WOW Report: Sitings a couple of times. I always heard that everything was bigger in Texas. Judge for youself.

Sliding Doors

Monday was a typical struggling actor day. I got up mid-morning; had a cup of tea; shit, showered, and shaved; had lunch with a friend; that friend and I went to a film audition together; we visited my agent's office; I departed to go to a rehearsal; left that rehearsal for another rehearsal which ended for me around 11:40ish. Your standard non-performance working day.

I live fairly far north in Chicago (7100N) and I usually travel by 22 Clark bus or the Red Line train when I am coming from or going to Second City. Last night, I chose the train. I was able to catch a 72 North Ave bus to the North/Clyborn CTA stop. As I entered the turnstiles, I could hear the northbound train approaching. I ran with had shut down the stairs and the escalator that is usually used for exiting was being used for entering as well. Since the escalator is only wide enough for one person at a time, I had to wait for the exiting passengers before I could descend into the subway. Damn! I missed my train and things were going so smoothly. I took deep breathes and calmed myself. There was nothing I could do but wait for the next train.

I do love people watching and my train had the best people. There were all types on the train: short, fat, tall, thin, dirty, trendy, young, and old. The best person to watch was this dirty middle aged white woman with her shoulder length salt and pepper hair parted right down the middle. She was sooooooooo tired. She was sitting in an aisle seat and as she dozed off she leaned into the aisle. Each time she leaned over to her right, I thought she was going to fall in the aisle for sure but each time she popped back up again. I alternated between my crossword puzzle and watching the woman like some pendulum rocking back and forth, side to side, back and forth. She rocked like that all the way to the end of the line, Howard. At Howard, everyone exited the train. I was glad that I missed the other train. I loved watching that woman. It amused me to no end and gave me a great character idea for a future project.

I left the Howard station hoping to jump on a bus that would take me a couple of blocks from my apartment but the bus was not there. Damn! No bus. I decided to go ahead and walk. The walk takes about 10 minutes. I was half way between the train and the apartment went a brother yelled at me from across the street. I had my fleece ear bands on so I couldn't hear what he was saying very well. It is 12:30ish and I don't know this brother but he is steady talking to me from across the street. Finally, I crossed the street (because I had to in order to get home) and the brother was saying "Why don't you come with me and have a beer?" (Pause) (Looked at brother) (Pause) (Sniffed brother's breath, definitely had been drinking) (Pause) "Say what?" I reply. He repeated, "Why don't you come with me and have a beer? Maybe me and you can party." I looked this brother up and down and he was fine. He was roughly 6'0", average size (hard to tell with winter gear), beautiful eyes, and great lips. OMG! (Pause) (Look at brother again). "I'm sorry bruh," I said, "I just finished a long day and I have to get up extra early for another long day (this is true). Besides, I don't know you." The fine slightly intoxicated brother tells me his name, tells me he is from Evanston and then says he wants to get to know me better, "we can start with a beer." I thought about some more about going with him but instead replied, "sorry, I really need to go to bed plus I have to watch my ducats. You know how that goes?" He replied that he did indeed "know how that goes." So he asked if it would be okay to approach me if he saw me again. Now this I thought was a strange request. He must be on the DL, any other person would have asked for my number or given me theirs. "Sure," I said, "If you see me again, give me a holla."

The fine slightly intoxicated brother said he was going to a bar on Clark, probably Jackhammer. I wished him well and I walked my last three or four blocks home.