The Coldwater Diaries

So a few days back Andrew calls. Says he’s worn out. He needs some time off – just a few days he tells me. I don’t put up a fuss. The kid’s a champ. Keeping up with my double life without a word until now says a lot. By day we run the acting workshop circuit. By night we run my circuit – I turn tricks,  he drives. It takes a certain breed to run a day in our lives. If Andrew needs a few days off who am I to put up a fuss? I tell him to take all the time he needs and the call lasts two minutes tops. No worries.

Five minutes later the phone rings again, this time it’s the agent I haven’t heard from in over a year. Total shock. I get over it. He tells me (to both our surprise) a Casting Agent working a cop-drama got his hands on my headshots and reel and wants me to read for a part I’d be (what the casting agent said verbatim) fucking perfect for. I can’t believe what I hear and ask asshole agent to repeat. He does. I almost faint. Asshole agent gives me time and place and collects my email address to send over my sides. I thank him and before I know it the call is over…

Funny what can happen in ten minutes, I think to myself after the shock wears off…

Call number one, Andrew takes a break…

Call number two, Tad gets a break…

The kind of break every actor (including Andrew) dreams about. It’s the dream that keeps the struggle alive. The point of the struggle is to one day achieve the dream where all that struggle pays off. For me my break has been ten years coming. Most people give up after six months and pack it up back to where they came from. Other people (like myself) stick it out…

And while we go through our days and struggle – waiting for the break to come – sooner or later time catches up and one either hits it or quits it…

Ten years in this town I wasn’t ready to make it eleven…

Ten years in this town I’ve finally hit it – just before I was finally ready to quit it…

Believing in myself got me through those ten years – and now with the opportunity of a lifetime knocking on my door I’m giving it all I have left…

Ten years later I finally get called up to the majors and when I step to the plate I’ll be swinging for the fences…

It’s all or nothing. Hit it or quit it.

It’s taken ten years for my first break after all, and I’m not sure I have another ten years left in me…

I show up to my reading thirty-minutes early only to find the building is private parking only. With a little time to burn I make way for what looks like a medical-type building across the street with an underground garage open to the public.

After a few laps I find a spot and park. I take a moment to compose myself. On the cusp of the most important three-minutes of my life I find myself surprisingly calm. This may be my first big-break-reading in ten years but that isn’t to say I’m inexperienced. I’ve been through this game before – prepping the mind. With every trick I turned in the past decade I’ve prepared the same way… a little mantra in the head reminding what I’m not and who I am…

An actor.

Once prepped I make way out the car no longer Tad, but the character I’m to portray instead – I’m more in the zone than ever – primed and readied for the pinnacle fuck-or-walk of my life. Not a single thing or person in the world can take me out of the zone. This is my time to shine…

And as I run my lines over and over heading out the garage a curveball plays a little chin-music almost dropping me to the ground for a beat – a familiar face walking in my direction – Donnie Ramo…

Only the Donnie I see approaching is a Donnie I’ve never seen before. He’s pale, eyes sunken deep, shaking, and sweating out of control. As he gets closer his eyes meet mine and he pauses – a look of terror paints his face – as if he recognizes me but can’t place it.

In a rush to make my call-time I offer a nod and say, “What’s up Donnie?”

“Who the fuck are you?” he says in genuine panic leaving me to wonder if its genuine or just another way to be a dick.

“Always the asshole” I say, “Normally I’d sit and chat but I have an audition.”

“How wonderful for you” Donnie says as he walks straight past me – distant and zombie-like.

“What are you doing here?” I yell to Donnie who by now is on the other side of the garage.

To this he responds with “What do you think!” just before disappearing, although I’m not certain, but I think what I really heard was, “Going to see my shrink”…

Donnie Ramo the invincible has a shrink?

I had to have heard wrong…

Whatever. I’ve got a reading to get to. The first day of the rest of my life.

I’m alone in a room where my audition is to take place and I’m reminded of visiting the doctor. First waiting in a hall filling out paper work, only to be escorted into another room assured by some flunkie the doctor will be in to see me in a moment. Only in this case the doctor is a Casting Agent whose opinion (yay or nay) could very well decide the course of the rest of my life.

Again I cannot stress how (much to my surprise) calm I am right now. I’m no longer Tad. I’m the character in question. The character who – if all goes well – will define me from here on out… The character who can wipe the entire slate clean – tabula rasa – where all my demons of the past disappear and the Tad of old withers away to be forever forgotten.

And in keeping with the whole Doctor’s Office metaphor (or is it an analogy? I was never good with English) I feel more like the patient awaiting test results on a blood-test. I haven’t been pricked yet. It isn’t until after the test is done that the nerves will kick into gear. Waiting for the news… will I go on to live my life? Or will I find I’m terminal, destined for nothing… dreams torn apart.

And as I realize these are the first signs of self-doubt I’ve had all day I quickly snuff them and return to my character  – remembering the ten years I’ve spent to get here along with the ten years I refuse to engage if all goes wrong here at this moment…

And just as I practice my breathing exercises he enters along with his cronies – the Casting Agent in question – the doctor who will test my blood and eventually tell me if I’m spoiled or ready to start my new life.

“Tad” the Casting Agent says extending a hand as his cronies scatter around the room readying cameras, taking out notepads, etc.

“Yes” I respond while returning his handshake.

“We’ve been looking forward to testing you for this project” the Casting Agent says, “It’s about time we finally got you in here.”

“Yeah” I say noting the irony, “It sure is.”

And with that the Casting Agent offers a nod and says, “Let’s get to it then.”

I close my eyes and take in the stale cubicle air of the office. I’m no longer Tad, I remind myself. I’m an actor… and for the first time in ten years not only is it (being an actor) what I am, it’s what I do…

“Everyone ready” the Casting Agent says.

All nods in the room.

And just before I get to doing my thing I catch another look at the Casting Director and can swear I’ve seen him before… Where, how, or why I feel this way I don’t know – but for some reason he seems familiar…

I shake it off. Nothing to worry about – recognizing this guy who holds my future in his hands – that’s from Tad’s world.

And as the cameras roll with all eyes on me I prepare the delivery of my first line and remember I’m not Tad right now…

I’m an Actor…

This is who I am and what I do…

And after ten years it’s time to do it…

Let’s roll…