Uncertainty

What was that expression; “When money goes out the door, love flies out the window?” My grandmother had a million of them…expressions, that is. But this one, these days, is striking close to home.

So many of my friends are literally falling apart in these difficult days, watching what they have built evaporate, seeing our jobs and prospects disappear. We’re actually in better shape than some of them because we’ve been living like that for years with intermittent spells of doing okay. Actors: we’re a hearty if somewhat insane bunch.  But we too are struggling. Those eleventh hour jobs that always seemed to crop up when we needed them have evaporated. Attempts to get into the workforce on either a full or part time basis have proven futile. Nobody wants people our age when they can get younger, healthier people who are just as desperate, and that is IF they are hiring to begin with. As the days pass with increasing uncertainty about our ability to survive them, the dynamic gets testier. Small tasks seem insurmountable. The crumbling driveway needs resurfacing. The autumn leaves, heavy with Saturday’s day-long downpour, resist the leaf blower and just lay there… like us, too burdened to get up.

Medication helps. The highs are not as high but the lows are not nearly as low, and since the lows are much more frequent companions, I forbid myself to miss the rush of adrenalin that would accompany the occasional boon.  Those nearest to me who are NOT on medication are bouncing up and down like the ball on Mitch Miller. The more level I stay the higher and lower these surrounding balls seem to bounce. It seems the only thing I can do to stop them is to scream, thus clearing the room and giving me uncomfortable, undesired silence.  Love may conquer all, but it can use a little help in the battle.

All Around the Mulberry Bush

How badly did we want the rights to do a reading of Albee's "A Delicate Balance"?

First I call the William Morris Agency as per the instructions in the script.

Jonathan Lomma at WMA tells me "This request goes to DPS. Craig Pospisil can help you."

Craig Pospisil at DPS tells me Samuel French publishes and licenses A DELICATE BALANCE.

Jonathan Donahue at Samuel French tells me to send to Jonathan Lomma at William Morris:
 1.      Headshot and resume of each actor (including age)
 2.      Director CV
 3.      Rehearsal schedule (Minimum 4-week rehearsal period and 4-day tech period, separate and IN ADDITION TO the 4-week rehearsal period)
 4.      Performance schedule (Including not shorter than 1 week of previews)
 5.      Costume Design Sketches
 6.      Set Design Sketches

I tell Jonathan Donahue "I JUST WANT TO DO A READING! Besides, I have already contacted Jonathan Lomma and he said to contact you."

Jonathan Donahue replies: "Thank you for this additional information.  You may still be required to provide some materials to Jonathan Lomma at William Morris." And to… "Please also include his assistant on any correspondence…"

So I write again to Jonathan Lomma and he asks me, "Have you submitted any materials?"

I explain. "Catch 22?"

Jonathan Lomma writes: Ok. Everybody hold and let’s appreciate how hilarious this is getting. Kate, let me make a phone call…

In short order, I hear from Alicia Grey at Samuel French and the arrangements are made. I am given a price for the rights to do two readings plus a "convenience fee" if I pay online.

"Convenience?" I send a check.

What does a nervous breakdown feel like? Does it involve a sudden desire to sell your house and everything in it? Does it involve a sudden desire to move back to New York or worse, into your mother’s house in Florida? Does it involve a sincere desire to sleep and an unwillingness to get into anything but gym clothes all day when you do manage to get up? It is 10 a.m. and I am clinging to the last few edges of the bed with a computer on my lap and my son’s dog sprawled in the center like she owns it. She presses all of her 50 pounds against me to get as close as possible leaving me crammed into the corner hanging on for dear life so I don’t tumble to the floor. That’s what my life is like these days: hanging on for dear life. In a world where actors willingly work for free, I can’t find someone willing to work for money. Okay, it’s not a lot of money, but still… I watched a documentary on journeyman actors- those guys whose faces you know but whose names you probably don’t. They talked about the difficulties of their careers. Yet I would gladly accept any one of their careers. Interestingly, there were no women in the documentary, as if women never achieve even journeyman status. When I did “Nurse Jackie” a while back, I optimistically thought it would open the door to other NY TV series. It didn’t. My part-time catering job, the one I liked because I could leave it without a thought, got stressful last week and made me think about it! Trying to build this theatre company is like pulling teeth. Is it time to leave that as well? I sent my business resume to a headhunter that was recommended to me and got a computerized response, not even a phone call in response to my question! So when does one give up? I am so close.