A lot of the actors I know, whatever their relative level of experience or talent, hate auditioning. They find it stressful. Which I suppose it is. I myself, though, have always rather enjoyed the experience. It's fun to get up onstage and do a monologue or some cold reading from a script. I mean, it's acting! And acting is fun! Why else would anyone do it? And I'm convinced that my comparatively successful track record--I tend to get cast in the plays I try out for--has as much to do with the fact that I basically have fun at auditions as it does with whatever relative reserves of talent or experience I possess. The formula is something like this: Auditioning = fun. Fun = relaxed. Relaxed = natural. Natural = cast-able.
I offer this advice not so much to other actors, who I suspect already know this on an intellectual level, even if they might mutter, "Easier said than done." Rather, I offer this to anyone who faces an "audition" of his own, be it in the form of interviewing for a dream job or asking out that cute co-worker: Don't focus on the outcome. Enjoy the process. Worst case scenario: You'll have some fun doing something that could lead to something wonderful. Best case scenario, you have the fun and the wonderful thing, too.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
A Modest Proposal
Much has been written about the attempts on the part of Major League Baseball to speed up the pace of play. A countdown clock now looms over the outfield of every ballpark, ticking away the seconds between innings. Pitchers and hitters are also on the clock, as they face fines for wandering around the mound or leaving the batter's box between pitches. No crackdowns on excessive scratching or spitting yet, unless these activities occur during walks around the mound or require leaving the batter's box. Stay tuned.
I would like to make a modest proposal, though, that would speed up the games AND likely increase the number of runs scored--a lack of offense in the post-steroid era being another major concern of MLB. I would like to propose that a manager be allowed a maximum of one pitching change per inning. A starter could be pulled at any time, but, once a reliever is brought in, that reliever MUST finish the inning. If he gets shelled, he gets shelled. This would also get rid of those frankly annoying instances of a manager bringing in a righty to face a right-handed batter, and then pulling that pitcher if the next hitter is a lefty. Obviously, exceptions would have to be made in the case of an injury, but otherwise, this would clearly shave significant minutes off of most games--and/or allow fans to see more runs scored if a fresh arm can't be brought in to bail out someone who just doesn't have it on a given night. And frankly, this would be a better solution than the introduction of timers into a fundamentally timeless sport.
I would like to make a modest proposal, though, that would speed up the games AND likely increase the number of runs scored--a lack of offense in the post-steroid era being another major concern of MLB. I would like to propose that a manager be allowed a maximum of one pitching change per inning. A starter could be pulled at any time, but, once a reliever is brought in, that reliever MUST finish the inning. If he gets shelled, he gets shelled. This would also get rid of those frankly annoying instances of a manager bringing in a righty to face a right-handed batter, and then pulling that pitcher if the next hitter is a lefty. Obviously, exceptions would have to be made in the case of an injury, but otherwise, this would clearly shave significant minutes off of most games--and/or allow fans to see more runs scored if a fresh arm can't be brought in to bail out someone who just doesn't have it on a given night. And frankly, this would be a better solution than the introduction of timers into a fundamentally timeless sport.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself
The headline on the online version of The New York Times reads, "Stressing Youth, Marco Rubio Joins 2016 Presidential Field."
I don't know about the youth of America, but it certainly stresses me.
I don't know about the youth of America, but it certainly stresses me.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Meet the Mets...Later
Does it make sense to record sporting events? I ask this question as I sit here, typing, with the Mets game on--a Mets game that I assume ended several hours ago. I recorded the game because I like the Mets and, living in the Bay Area, I don't get to see them with any regularity. So, on those occasions when they ARE on national TV, I feel almost obligated to watch them--which generally means recording the games, as the games usually start (or in the case of day games like today's, start and end) while I'm at work. But does it make sense?
I mean, I fast forward through the commercials. But when I do that, I think, y'know, I could also fast forward to move more quickly from one batter to the next. But if I'm going to do that, I could pretty much just skip to "interesting" moments: Maybe I could keep speeding through until I see runners on base. But if I do that, why not just skip to the end to see who wins? Or just go to Nymets.com and check the score? Because if I watch the whole game and they actually lost, am I not just setting myself up for disappointment? Leaving aside for the moment the reasonable question of whether being a Mets fan is, by definition, setting myself up for disappointment? Is watching a recorded sporting event really nothing more than a sort of magical thinking?
I mean, I fast forward through the commercials. But when I do that, I think, y'know, I could also fast forward to move more quickly from one batter to the next. But if I'm going to do that, I could pretty much just skip to "interesting" moments: Maybe I could keep speeding through until I see runners on base. But if I do that, why not just skip to the end to see who wins? Or just go to Nymets.com and check the score? Because if I watch the whole game and they actually lost, am I not just setting myself up for disappointment? Leaving aside for the moment the reasonable question of whether being a Mets fan is, by definition, setting myself up for disappointment? Is watching a recorded sporting event really nothing more than a sort of magical thinking?
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Breaking News
Out of my undying sense of journalistic responsibility, I feel compelled to report that Hillary Clinton has formally announced her candidacy for . . . Hold on, let me check my notes. . . Ah! President. She's running for president.
Of the United States, that is.
I know that some of my followers get their news exclusively from The Solipsist, and I wanted to make sure that none of you ends up looking like an idiot at a cocktail party, pooh-poohing the notion of Hillary's candidacy.
Incidentally, you shouldn't pooh-pooh ANYTHING at a cocktail party. Or anywhere else, for that matter. That's just gross.
Do people even HAVE cocktail parties anymore? I mean, I hear "cocktail party," and I get an image of, like, George Sanders and Bette Davis in evening dress, exchanging witticisms. And I don't even know who those people ARE!
Where was I?
Oh, yes, Hillary. You know, the ignorantsia at places like Fox News like to bash Hillary by saying, among other things, that she's "obsessed" with the presidency, that she sees it as some sort of entitlement. To which I think the only logical reply is, "Yes. And?" Of course, she's obsessed and feels entitled! I mean, think about the chutzpah it takes for someone to think that they are actually qualified to BE president. That alone is a sign of some kind of insanity, be the candidate Democrat or Republican. If you're NOT obsessed and DON'T feel entitled, you've picked the wrong way to spend the next year and a half.
Of the United States, that is.
I know that some of my followers get their news exclusively from The Solipsist, and I wanted to make sure that none of you ends up looking like an idiot at a cocktail party, pooh-poohing the notion of Hillary's candidacy.
Incidentally, you shouldn't pooh-pooh ANYTHING at a cocktail party. Or anywhere else, for that matter. That's just gross.
Do people even HAVE cocktail parties anymore? I mean, I hear "cocktail party," and I get an image of, like, George Sanders and Bette Davis in evening dress, exchanging witticisms. And I don't even know who those people ARE!
Where was I?
Oh, yes, Hillary. You know, the ignorantsia at places like Fox News like to bash Hillary by saying, among other things, that she's "obsessed" with the presidency, that she sees it as some sort of entitlement. To which I think the only logical reply is, "Yes. And?" Of course, she's obsessed and feels entitled! I mean, think about the chutzpah it takes for someone to think that they are actually qualified to BE president. That alone is a sign of some kind of insanity, be the candidate Democrat or Republican. If you're NOT obsessed and DON'T feel entitled, you've picked the wrong way to spend the next year and a half.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Fly the Kosher Skies
Long-time Sloppists have noticed that I haven't posted regularly in a long time. I had considered this a mere personal failing: a source of disappointment in myself, to be sure, but a victimless crime at worst. Last night, I realized I was wrong. I came face to face with the face of Solipsist Nation abandoned: a reader--perhaps my ONLY reader--who had come to rely on YNSHC to bring a little joy into his apparently insufficiently joyous life, and whom I had so cavalierly abandoned out of some sense of entitlement--entitlement to rest, to relaxation, to the right to plunge myself into a beer-fueled alcoholic stupor on a regular basis! Who did I think I was?!? So, to this Fanatical Follower of Solipsist, I simply say, I shall strive to do better.
Speaking of entitlement, I've spent the last day or so pondering this story in yesterday's paper, about a semi-common occurrence on airplanes. Apparently, some ultra-Orthodox Jews refuse to sit next to women on airplanes, for fear that they may accidentally come into contact with members of the opposite sex. Despite the fact that a prominent Orthodox rabbi has given dispensation for whatever incidental contact might occur, a number of Hasidim feel they would rather not chance it. As you can imagine, though, problems arise when women refuse to relocate to accommodate the--let's face it--medieval strictures of their fellow travelers.
Those of you who follow me on Facebook know that I proposed a simple solution: If the idea of potentially finding himself seated next to a woman so fills a Hasidic gentleman with fear, then all he needs to do to avoid the situation is purchase an extra seat on the plane. This comment of mine generated a number of comments--tongues more or less planted in cheeks--about the unlikelihood of Jews ponying up the cash for two seats (it should be noted that these comments all came from fellow Jews). But the point, of course, is social not financial. If these folks want to avail themselves of the conveniences of modern society (like airplanes), then they are simply going to have to accept the conventions of modern society (like the fundamental equality of the sexes--and let's not get started on THAT; that's a topic for another day).
Ultimately, I don't really have a problem with the Orthodox desire to maintain a separation of the sexes: If that's what they believe, that's what they believe. The issue I find offensive is that the airlines and/or the other passengers should go out of their way to accommodate them. I wouldn't have an issue with a Hasidic gentleman going up to another passenger--and for all I know, this happens--and saying politely something to the effect of, "Excuse me, Sir/Madam, I'm seated over in ___, but the seat next to me is occupied by a lady, and my religion prevents me from sitting next to her. I was wondering if you would be willing to trade seats with me?"
I'm sure he'd find a taker. Hell, what does the Hasid-proximate lady look like? Maybe I'll trade seats. After all, I'm single now. Think of the possibilities!
"What was that all about?"
"Oh, his religion forbids him from sitting next to beautiful women."
"Really?"
"Well, strictly speaking, his religion prevents him from sitting next to any women. I threw in the beautiful part."
"Oh, Solipsist!"
Cha-ching! Mile-high-club! I love Judaism!
Speaking of entitlement, I've spent the last day or so pondering this story in yesterday's paper, about a semi-common occurrence on airplanes. Apparently, some ultra-Orthodox Jews refuse to sit next to women on airplanes, for fear that they may accidentally come into contact with members of the opposite sex. Despite the fact that a prominent Orthodox rabbi has given dispensation for whatever incidental contact might occur, a number of Hasidim feel they would rather not chance it. As you can imagine, though, problems arise when women refuse to relocate to accommodate the--let's face it--medieval strictures of their fellow travelers.
Those of you who follow me on Facebook know that I proposed a simple solution: If the idea of potentially finding himself seated next to a woman so fills a Hasidic gentleman with fear, then all he needs to do to avoid the situation is purchase an extra seat on the plane. This comment of mine generated a number of comments--tongues more or less planted in cheeks--about the unlikelihood of Jews ponying up the cash for two seats (it should be noted that these comments all came from fellow Jews). But the point, of course, is social not financial. If these folks want to avail themselves of the conveniences of modern society (like airplanes), then they are simply going to have to accept the conventions of modern society (like the fundamental equality of the sexes--and let's not get started on THAT; that's a topic for another day).
Ultimately, I don't really have a problem with the Orthodox desire to maintain a separation of the sexes: If that's what they believe, that's what they believe. The issue I find offensive is that the airlines and/or the other passengers should go out of their way to accommodate them. I wouldn't have an issue with a Hasidic gentleman going up to another passenger--and for all I know, this happens--and saying politely something to the effect of, "Excuse me, Sir/Madam, I'm seated over in ___, but the seat next to me is occupied by a lady, and my religion prevents me from sitting next to her. I was wondering if you would be willing to trade seats with me?"
I'm sure he'd find a taker. Hell, what does the Hasid-proximate lady look like? Maybe I'll trade seats. After all, I'm single now. Think of the possibilities!
"What was that all about?"
"Oh, his religion forbids him from sitting next to beautiful women."
"Really?"
"Well, strictly speaking, his religion prevents him from sitting next to any women. I threw in the beautiful part."
"Oh, Solipsist!"
Cha-ching! Mile-high-club! I love Judaism!
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Margins
Super Bowl Seven-Squared quantified the previously unquantifiable. To wit, the difference between monumental genius and sublime idiocy. Turns out, it's about three inches.
The Seattle Seahawks' final play of the 2015 Super Bowl was surely a high (low?) point in the annals of sports ignominy. If you missed the game. . . what are you? Some kind of communist?!?
For the rest, you will recall that the Seahawks, down by four points with about 30 seconds to play, found themselves at the Patriots' one-yard line in a second-and-goal situation. Anyone following the game at all knew what was coming next: Marshawn Lynch, arguably the best running back in the NFL, a nigh unstoppable tank of a man, would tear through the defense for the go-ahead touchdown. A no-brainer. Instead, however, the next play saw quarterback Russell Wilson drop back and throw a pass that was intercepted by previously unheralded New England defender Malcolm Butler. Game over. Patriots win.
In the 48 hours or so since that play, Seahawks coach Pete Carroll has come under fire for his inexplicable decision to have Wilson throw the ball in that situation. Considering the stakes--the end of the road for Seattle's quest for back-to-back championships--this play has justly been called one of the worst--if not the absolute worst--ever called. But let's be clear about one thing: The only reason the coach is being vilified is because the play didn't work.
I think the call was a mistake, too, but let's be fair: Russell Wilson didn't make a terrible throw. The ball was actually thrown right to the hands of the intended receiver, Jerome Kearse. Sure the ball was a scooch too far for the receiver to grasp firmly, but if Wilson throws the ball even another two or three inches to the right, Kearse probably makes the catch, and sheer momentum carries him into the end-zone for the winning score. In this alternate universe, Pete Carroll becomes, if not "brilliant," at least "gutsy": We would then be reading about how Carroll outfoxed the Patriots, who were almost definitely expecting a Lynch run. And the contrarian viewpoints would belong to the handful of people who lamented the fact that an "idiotic" call somehow worked out.
In fact, Carroll could (although he hasn't, exactly) even now defend himself by saying that the sheer "stupidity" of the call was designed to catch the defense off guard. If everybody "knows" you're going to employ a certain strategy, then shouldn't that, theoretically, be the one strategy you shouldn't employ?
As I say, I think Carroll made a mistake; he should have stuck with the conventional game plan. Predictable or not, in that situation, you play the percentages. If you lose the game because the Patriots somehow manage to stop Lynch three times at the goal line, you tip your hat to the defense. Which, I guess, is what we're doing anyway: Butler made a spectacular play. But keep in mind that this Platonic ideal of a moronic play was only a fingertip away from being an example of sheer genius.
The Seattle Seahawks' final play of the 2015 Super Bowl was surely a high (low?) point in the annals of sports ignominy. If you missed the game. . . what are you? Some kind of communist?!?
For the rest, you will recall that the Seahawks, down by four points with about 30 seconds to play, found themselves at the Patriots' one-yard line in a second-and-goal situation. Anyone following the game at all knew what was coming next: Marshawn Lynch, arguably the best running back in the NFL, a nigh unstoppable tank of a man, would tear through the defense for the go-ahead touchdown. A no-brainer. Instead, however, the next play saw quarterback Russell Wilson drop back and throw a pass that was intercepted by previously unheralded New England defender Malcolm Butler. Game over. Patriots win.
In the 48 hours or so since that play, Seahawks coach Pete Carroll has come under fire for his inexplicable decision to have Wilson throw the ball in that situation. Considering the stakes--the end of the road for Seattle's quest for back-to-back championships--this play has justly been called one of the worst--if not the absolute worst--ever called. But let's be clear about one thing: The only reason the coach is being vilified is because the play didn't work.
I think the call was a mistake, too, but let's be fair: Russell Wilson didn't make a terrible throw. The ball was actually thrown right to the hands of the intended receiver, Jerome Kearse. Sure the ball was a scooch too far for the receiver to grasp firmly, but if Wilson throws the ball even another two or three inches to the right, Kearse probably makes the catch, and sheer momentum carries him into the end-zone for the winning score. In this alternate universe, Pete Carroll becomes, if not "brilliant," at least "gutsy": We would then be reading about how Carroll outfoxed the Patriots, who were almost definitely expecting a Lynch run. And the contrarian viewpoints would belong to the handful of people who lamented the fact that an "idiotic" call somehow worked out.
In fact, Carroll could (although he hasn't, exactly) even now defend himself by saying that the sheer "stupidity" of the call was designed to catch the defense off guard. If everybody "knows" you're going to employ a certain strategy, then shouldn't that, theoretically, be the one strategy you shouldn't employ?
As I say, I think Carroll made a mistake; he should have stuck with the conventional game plan. Predictable or not, in that situation, you play the percentages. If you lose the game because the Patriots somehow manage to stop Lynch three times at the goal line, you tip your hat to the defense. Which, I guess, is what we're doing anyway: Butler made a spectacular play. But keep in mind that this Platonic ideal of a moronic play was only a fingertip away from being an example of sheer genius.
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