Saddest Saddest Saddest

Sometimes you have to celebrate the small wins. I’ve been asked to audition for 2 projects over the next week. One is for a play written by the man who invented the birth control pill. The other is a short film about the saddest character I’ve ever read. I’d like to do them both.

The film would require nudity, several simulated masturbation scenes, and going deep down to my lonely place. The play would require heart, timing, and a Mississippi accent. They are very different.

I’m feeling at a loss now that my 3 residencies are done, the 2 plays are closed, and the film has wrapped. It’s the feeling that you could disappear and no one would notice. But it’s good to let the field lay fallow for a bit. Otherwise the nutrients get depleted.

I walked from The Times Building through Times Square around 4pm today to my credit union on 46th St. The funniest, weirdest, little old bank EVER. It’s on the 14th floor in the Actors’ Equity Building. During heavy foot traffic times, I cut through the center of 7th Ave and Broadway. It’s probably not totally legal but I pass traffic cops left and right doing it. I go up past the Police Station and the Recruitment Station. I cross the one intersection on 46th and go by the crappy TGIFridays. I used to wonder why people would eat there when visiting the city but then I was at a Starbucks getting my brew on each day while I was in London. Takes one to know one.

Point being, that’s the big tourist trap. Loads of people walking around who aren’t used to walking. At all! Why don’t the powers that be section off the area from 42nd up to 57th St. on 7th Ave. and Broadway and make it a Green Pedestrian Shopping Tourist Orgy District? What if we got rid of all the gaudy billboards and signs that are hogging up electricity and restore some beauty and wonder at the Crossroads of the World?

For now, I feel like I’m walking through Mars with an imaginary space suit on protecting me. I don’t like that.