legs were broken I had a play go up this weekend. A dumb play. A play I really didn’t really want to do but my friends said will you do this and I said OK and here I am. It only runs for 2 weeks so it’s low impact. They then asked me if I had a short play that could go up in the same evening so I gave them Not New… (the movie version of which I saw the other night) and they asked my extremely talented girlfriend M. to do be in it and there’s your evening. Anyway, my dumb part in the rather dumb play (one I did not write) is low impact and would have been a cakewalk except for the fact that I am extremely hard on myself and I ignore the mere fact that my character is comic relief and little more and try to imbue it with much more and end up confusing myself and driving myself nuts that my performance isn’t as layered and nuanced as I would like because, well, there just ain’t that many layers here. Anyway, the evening is fine. Good. Whatever. And I’m having a little fun in it. M. is brilliant. The opening was good. We got through it. And even though it is not a life changing experience and probably won’t be and I’m too busy right now with my film shooting in less than 2 weeks YIKES, we did it and art and accomplishing anything should be paused for and recognized and congratulated, even if it is only by yourself. So I’m back onstage and life is grand. Except Bitchland is running a debt right now and pollution levels are too high. Tonight I have an actor workshop with some independent film producer and I’d really really like to sleep. Oh, speaking of which: Serendipity Time. I was telling Frank about running into my neighbor who turns out to be a Big Indie Producer and upon describing her he says her name. Apparently John Hawkes who knows her from a movie they did together has been trying to get this woman to read Frank’s Stuntman movie in which I’m co-starring with John if and when it gets funding. OK so, weird. And then Saturday night after my show I stop by Frank’s, who has just had another staged reading of the script for a few potential investors but I was doing my show and couldn't be there and guess who has just left: Big Indie Producer herself. And she dug it big time. And Frank and John are meeting with her… as we speak. Literally. Synchronicity, no? There’s an exchange in my now overdone play: "Fuck, this town is so small." "It’s huge. You’re what’s small." Well, now I’m not sure that I was right. It seems too damn small sometimes. This is where I let Larry King take over my body for a few minutes. Though it failed miserably on Broadway (should have been Off-Broadway), Paul Simon’s The Capeman has a brilliant soundtrack… M. came up with a great line this weekend. Talking about someone I said, "Is he gay?", and she said, "No, he’s Canadian."…hate John Elway but admire him for admitting that he’s getting too old to quarterback anymore and that he "wishes he were 28"…I just did good and caught a big error with our new computer system at work – very unlike me…on Thursday I’m going to my Big Production Company’s premiere of a TV movie they’ve just produced (I love Hollywood events – free booze!)…me and my friends have never yelled "SURGE!!!!!" and then raced over ugly plaid couches set up in the middle of an alley to see who could get to a beverage first. Maybe it’s just me, I don’t know.
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