Plugging into social networks

Social networks look a little different in the country than they do in the city.

This morning I was walking to church and my neighbors were pulling out of their driveway and offered to give me a ride. Yesterday before leaving for a party I walked to another neighbor's house to wish them a happy new year. That neighbor happened to be my brother, so I guess that's a little different. The point is, in the country a social network involves very few zeros and ones. Rather, a country social network is a bunch of people living near each other. That's it. Simply being near each other requires you all to know everyone and look out for everyone. I know if some strange car pulls into the barnyard our neighbors will know and report it to my parents. That's just how it works.

Now that I'm living in LA, I don't even know the people who share the walls in my apartment building. My social network there consists of some people I met in classes who live all over the city.

My point here is that country social networks are people in proximity while city social networks are people at a distance. You can make arguments saying it's a division of responsibility between more people and how that means every individual is less responsible for everyone else, etc. What I've noticed from this is my own subtle detachment.

I remember when I said yes to every invitation to adventure, whatever it is (or I at least imagined a time when I might have done that). Now I would much rather say maybe next time and just play xbox. I see it in small ways in improv in the moments when I resist saying yes to something my scene partner introduced. I saw it in church when I was asked to be one of the people doing the collection (I view that as the tax for sitting near the back of the church). I am an actor and am used to being in front of people and here I am not wanting to carry a basket on a stick during mass.

Now that I recognize this, I can shake it off and move forward not only maintaining my social network from all the places I've been, but building it wherever I go by saying yes and participating in life. No more dalliance with detachment. Now there's a New Year's resolution for you.

The elusive nerdy dick

There's a character I've been wanting to develop for quite some time but not sure exactly how to execute it. I found another element of him tonight at a stand up show.

(side note: the only reason I went to the show was to see a girl I have a bit of a crush on perform. She hosted, and I thought she was the funniest person, only further bolstering the reason for my crush. Also, she doesn't know who I am, so there we are on that note).

The comic was describing his experience going through airport security next to a pilot. They both took off their jackets-normal, both emptied their pockets in the trays-normal, then he took out his macbook while the pilot took out a Compaq Presario-panic time! According to the comic, he could not trust anyone who has such an out-dated piece of electronics. I read his reaction as: the pilot is not like me, which means he's an ignorant moron who will crash my plane out of stupidity. That's kind of the heart of this character I keep seeing and want to explore: the nerdy dick.

He's kind of a hypocritical elitist. He is the first to correct people when they make grammatical or factual errors, and the first to blog about how rude people are when they try to correct him. He's really the modern day version of the jock in the world of geek chic. He bullies other people who he deems inferior to him. Basically, he's a lot of what I hate about people all wrapped up in narcissistic intellectualism. In short, he's the parts of me I don't like.

For some reason, despite having strong notions of who this character is and where he comes from, I just cannot find the right frame to put him in, the sketch to write for him or the monologue manifesto for him to pronounce. Perhaps I'm still too close, or I have not yet learned to laugh at that part of myself. Either way, he's still there taunting me. One day, soon enough, I'll find out exactly where he lives and he'll talk. Until then...I'll just know he's always there-looking down on all my life choices.

I am not abandoning my blog

...I just seem to be taking some time away from it.

Over the last few weeks since my last post I've written at least one or two blogs a day, the problem is I wrote them in my mind and they never found their way out of there. I sent out a search party, but the outlook is not hopeful. I fear they might be lost forever.

What can we learn from this tragedy?

When you do something, make sure it exists in a way other people know it exists. Turns out those blogs were a lot more like high school crushes. They were just too shy and whatever the opposite of world-weary is for people to know they even existed. Se la vie.

My mind has turned more to tweeting, so now anything longer than a single run-on sentence seems like some epic feat.

That might explain the paragraph structure.

Or not.

Whatever.

Yep...totally worth the wait.

(script)
Person 1: Would you say it was worth its wait in gold?
Me: No. No I would not.

The end.

(by Leonard Nimoy)

My job is school, is life.

I know I am unemployed, but I feel very busy. It is similar to college when I had a lot of different things I studied and lived in a bit of a sheltered environment with a heavy focus on self-development. That's kind of where I am here in LA. Instead of a part time job working at a restaurant, my part time job is going to improv shows. I am putting in my hours every week going to class, extra rehearsal time and as many shows as I can manage (mostly free for students). That is my job and I am fortunate enough at this point in my life to have a support network that allows me to focus on what's in front of me and work at my full time job: acting. This is the part of my career where I do not do much of it for money, but I see a lot of it for experience.

I know I have deeper thoughts on the subject, but I spent a few hours improvising in the dark (a freak windstorm last night is still wreaking havoc on the power grid), and then I went to an 11pm improv show and just got back to my room in Pasadena, so my brain is a bit fried. The point is, my job is to research and study my craft and be the best me I can be. That is my quest and goal. That is my real full time job and I am treating it as such...just without the pay for the time being.

I guess I can say I had a long day at the office. Plus I got another credit on IMDB put up today, so that's not too bad.

Confidence

Yesterday I met with a friend out of town who was meeting with a few Hollywood bigwigs (or at least midwigs, but definitely not lil'wigs). It was at a fancy multi-star hotel in a bar looking over the ocean serving delicately prepared food in tiny portions on fancy-shaped plates. Basically, it was the kind of setting a boy who grew up on a farm does not usually encounter.

I've had a few experiences like this so far as I am so determined to take the biggest baby steps possible. I parked half a mile away in some day-lot (I have never used a valet in fear that they would not know how to handle a car made in the late 90's). As I trekked up the fancy hill and up the fancy drive with fancy trees covered in fancy lights I mentally repeated to myself "I am good enough to be here." This was the first time I've psyched myself up that way, and it is something I think I will be doing for quite a while.

I know I'm a person just like anyone else, but I do feel my bumpkin background something fierce when surrounded by people who are monetarily capable of impulsing buying cars. I really did self affirm that I was (and am) good enough to not only enter such a fancy place, but to eat and drink there on the patio overlooking the sun seting on the Pacific Ocean with people whose paychecks can put my whole family through college (and I have a huge family). As it turned out, I was good enough to be there. I connected on a personal level. Apparently a lot of people like talking about their farming roots, and I can quip comedy when relaxed and feeling all belonging.

Segue.

Earlier that morning I read something on the forum I have with my longest/best friends I felt a strong urge to respond to. It would not be noteworthy had it not been something relating to religion and politics. You see, I fundamentally disagree with the group of friends I've known the longest and care about the most. I rarely share my personal political opinions with them as a group in fear of being pounced upon, devoured whole and excommunicated. Something must be happening to me because I responded openly and frankly. I kind of said screw it to my silence and spoke my peace. I know that open and honest communication, though it may cause ripples, creates much stronger bonds than silence. However, knowledge and action are two separate things. I finally acted upon my impulse to say "wait a minute, think about this other thing." Though still scary, it felt good.

In short, through these two incidences I moved beyond the misplaced need to apologize for who I am. Yes, I am good enough to not only schmooze with "powerful" people, but I am also good enough to have a point of view that other people disagree with. I've always had an opinion and enjoyed meeting people, I just had opportunities to exercise these things in a new way that I can feel as real growth. So my large baby steps fall into the "just bein' myself" category. This makes me happy.

This evening I had the most comfortable conversation with my parents and family on the phone, no doubt in relation to the confidence I got from letting go of my useless insecurities. I hope this means I will stop feeling the need to apologize when I ask my dad for money...I mean...what?

So yeah--confidence--something to be thankful for this year.

Learning to love [comedy] again

I need a new comedy. Or at least a different kind of comedy. Or maybe a new perspective on what I am seeing. In short, I am disappointed.

The Upright Citizens Brigade is kind of the place for comedy in LA, namely the improv-based variety. I am currently in level 201 of the program and seeing shows every chance I can get. Here is my problem: I keep seeing the same thing. Every show can be summarized as two white guys talking at each other, generally whilst talking about shitting their pants. Sometimes it's one of their characters who's done it, sometimes it's another person who's done it, sometimes it's the monologist who is talking about a time it really happened to them, but when it comes down to it, at every show I saw this week, they talked about someone shitting their pants.

All I know is that I am frustrated when every show turns into heads talking at each other about feces. I feel insulted, like my intelligence is not being respected, though I know I am guilty of the same act, more or less. My sin is referencing the fact that we are in an improvised scene by calling out inconsistencies in the scene while I'm still in it. Nobody is guilt free.

UCB has some of the most heady comedy in town, so maybe that's why they feel it's okay to continually talk about that stuff because they are approaching it intellectually. They've spun so far around the intelligence wheel they're back on the lowbrow side. Maybe I'm being an ass and missing the forest because of all the crappy trees. I do see them adhering to the format and surprising me with unexpected bits of humor and perspective.

On the plus side they have the most realistic characters, especially compared with the Groundlings where if you don't have a combination of a silly voice, a silly walk and a silly wig, you don't have a character. That's right, I'm crapping on the whole town.

When it comes down to it, it seems the honeymoon just ended and right now I need to discover where my love for improv comes from. Now THAT is a life lesson in a journey.

What did I love most about UCB when we first met? Their quick wit, and how they could say no while still saying yes. Here I am learning to do just that.

No room for haters in my family tree

Compton can't be as rough and dirty as it claims to be--my mom grew up there!

It's true, I just found that out today. My mom spent the first few years of her life in Compton. Admittedly it was before the gentrification and gangs and whatnot, but the fact remains that my mom grew up in Compton. Take that all you haters!*

Another old old old relative on my father's side was another kind of roughneck. When Oregon was still a territory (or thereabouts, all I can say is that it was long before the Oregon Trail was a popular game), one of my relatives lived in a tree. What do I mean lived in a tree? I mean he hollowed out a tree and lived in it. For two years. He left his family on the east coast, trekked west all the way to rainy Oregon, and spent the next two years clearing out a plot of land to farm while living in the hollow of a giant tree trunk. I don't care who you are, but that is pretty bad-ass. He then sent for his family and built a house for them to live in on their newly hewn farm.

As far as my family history is concerned, I come from pretty hearty stock. On one side I survived the (future) ghetto, on the other I lived like Tom Hanks in a Pacific NW version of Castaway.

Conclusion: wherever I end up in life (both rich and famous with a Nobel prize winning family) nobody can say that I did not earn it. Not even by using reason and facts. No haters, ya'll*

*by "haters" I mean socio-economically down-trodden.