Drop That Name!

The Good News

Sorry for the cliché, but it’s not what you know, it’s who you know. How else would the TV show Life on a Stick have ever made it on television?

There are people born knowing people. If your dad was Jay Leno’s garbage man, and you want to make it in Hollywood, you have a much better chance of making it than the writer with the next I Love Lucy up his sleeve and no connections.

I don’t know where I fall into the big picture of talent—I know I have lots, perhaps less than some, more than others. But what I don’t have is connections. And I hate networking! I picked the wrong business to get into for someone who hates networking. I can’t bring myself to impose on another person or to use another person to get my work noticed.

Thank God, however, that even non-networkers get their breaks! I may be getting mine soon.

I really wanted to focus this blog on my thoughts concerning ideas in theatre—and that still is the focus—but I figured that if I didn’t blog about exciting things potentially happening in my career, then what good is a blog anyway?

So let me set the scene. Bear with me. I think it’ll be worth it in the end. I think.

Scene 1

It is a grocery store. Broadway Mouth’s Sister enters the stage, pushing a cart with an adorable niece who is, literally, the cutest little girl ever, both in physical attributes and outgoing personality and endearing personality traits.

Sister, looking about at the merchandise along the cash registers, makes her way to a checkout lane where a Woman is cashiering.

Woman: Oh my gosh, she is the cutest little girl ever!

Sister: Aw shucks. I get that a lot.

Woman: Honey, if you make babies that cute, it’s your American duty to have a few more.

Sister: Um, this one was 11.6 pounds, and the drugs wore off after ten minutes of pushing. Sorry but my body signed a petition . . .



Scene 2
It is now over a year later. Broadway Mouth’s Sister’s friends—Deanna, Jen, and Woman—are seated around a table, snacking and chatting while Niece wanders about the house chattering in toddler gibberish and being really cute in every way possible. It is June 7, 2007.

Sister: And you guys should have seen the Easter basket Woman gave my daughter! It was huge and filled with the coolest things.

Deanna: (in awe) Wow . . .

Woman: Well, she’s just such a sweetheart. And I always wanted to have more kids of my own, but it wasn’t possible. By the way, forgive the lack of transition, but someone I know someone involved in a show that’s up for a Tony this Sunday.

Sister: You’re kidding.

Woman: Yeah, she’s a producer on _______________. She’s almost like a daughter to me.

Sister: No way! My brother is the most talented writer I’ve ever met in my life!!!! Of the three I’ve known, he’s the best hands down. And he writes un-produced musicals that are waiting to earn billions! I’ve never seen a Broadway show, but trust me, I know!

Deanna: (in awe) Wow . . .

Woman: I’m going to be seeing her in October when I fly out for a wedding. If he wants me to, I’d bring her a copy of his work.

Jen: Um, by the way, did I mention I play the banjo in five different languages?


Let’s pause for a moment of reflection. The word producer means any number of things these days—from creative participant to someone with money to gamble. It is my hunch, based on billing, that it is possible that this is one of those people with money to gamble. BUT that’s pretty darn good in my world. Whatever the case, if this producer isn’t a creative producer herself, certainly she knows SOMEONE who initiates projects. My two libretti could get be on a pile for three months, but something is better than nothing. Getting your work seen by someone other than your college buddies is better than nothing. If it never goes further, that’s fine. But to at least get your work read is an amazing opportunity.

The Other News

If you’ve read my “About Me” write-up to your right, you’ll notice how I talk about interviewing for two jobs, one of which I was on the road to being offered but passed on, the other which I wasn’t offered but wanted.

Well . . . one of my nanny agencies called, and the first family is looking again. This is such a bummer because I really, really want to move to New York City or Los Angeles to be closer to something creative, and I simply must have a high-paying job to do it.

The problem is that this job sounds horrible. I can’t say too much because of signed disclosures and stuff, but it’s a very wealthy family with incredible nanny turnaround for some pretty obvious reasons. Think of every Ovitz-inspired cliché you can think of, and you’ll see why I don’t want it . . . but I also don’t want to be sitting here for another year waiting. Mannies are somewhat in demand, but because I don’t live in NYC, I get passed up for consideration a lot even though the agencies tell me I have a great resume.

The other twist is that if I were to actually take this job (which I’m not really planning on at this moment), I don’t even know if I would have enough time to fix up my libretti for October, the job is that time-consuming.

So . . . excitement and upsetment (yes, I made that word up) all in less than twenty-four hours.

On Thursday, I walked out of the library (before getting the call from my sister about the above events), and I saw a brilliant double-rainbow arching over the eastern sky. You see, I was on the verge of being offered a long-term job locally that I really didn’t want and was in distress about making the right decision (a lot like I am right now). I can’t remember the last time I saw a rainbow or took the time to really see one, but as I looked at it from one end to the other, the lyrics of a song came to mind.

I end with the lyrics to the song “The Last Day” by Sandi Patty that has greatly inspired me during this crazy journey.

If today were the last of all days
Would it change how you feel,
Who you are
Would you rise for a moment above all your fears
Become one with the moon and the stars

Would you like what you see looking down
Did you give everything that you could
Have you done all the things that you wanted to do
Is there still so much more that you would

Follow your dreams to the end of the rainbow
Way beyond one pot of gold
Open your eyes to the colors around you
And find the true beauty life holds

Would you live in the moment like when you were young
When time didn’t travel so fast
Being free in the present enjoying the now
Not tied to a future or a past

Follow your dreams to the end of the rainbow
Way beyond one pot of gold
Open your eyes to the colors around you
And find the true beauty life holds

You’d probably say all you wanted to say
But doesn’t it strike you as strange
That we’d only begin to start living our lives
If today were the last of all days
If today were the last of all days


Broadway Mouth
June 9, 2007