Acting

In keeping with my intention to do what I’ve so far avoided for no good reason, I’m taking an acting class.  Far fucking out.

I like the theater, I’ve been a theater critic, and Janice’s family is thoroughly theatrical in a professional kind of way.

Acting is very difficult and very far from anything I’ve done.  I knew that.  My producer once sent me out to do a walk-and-talk commentary on Lake Street in South Minneapolis.  I only had to walk about 30 yards and say maybe a hundred words, which I had written.  Walking and talking ain’t easy, I found.

Try talking to somebody you hardly know about gut issues using the words of somebody you’ve never even seen and moving around doing stuff at the same time.  And you have to memorize all of the words and say them with all the pauses and emphases that the writer put in like you just thought them on the spot because you’re involved with this other person onstage with you, and you don’t know from moment to moment what she’s gonna do, except you damn well better know.  Or he.

I’m also doing it because I’m old enough not to care about looking like a ninny.  At this point it doesn’t matter what kind of fool I look like, or what kind of fool I am, for that matter, which is quite pleasant.  I didn’t realize how much energy I used up trying not to look silly until I stopped, which works out pretty good because I need all the energy I can scare up.  I’m gonna practice my lines now.