American Idol Sponsored By PopTarts - Coinsidence?

I have to start off by saying that my wife has got to be the luckiest person in radio station giveaway history. In the past year, she has won a 4-Pack to Universal Studios Hollywood, as well as concert tickets to The Backstreet Boys, Destiny's Child, and the most recent, American Idol LIVE. Being fans of the show, we were extremely happy that were were heading to the Anaheim Pond to catch Taylor Hicks and the rest of the clan. I personally was there to lend my support to Chris Daughtry, the true winner of Season Five.

We arrived at 6:00 PM for a 7:00 PM show, so we had time to take in the spectacle that is American Idol. First of all, everywhere you looked there were signs for, posters of, and poor souls dressed up like PopTarts, "the official sponsor" of the concert tour. There were also refrigerators that suggested you freeze your PopTarts, too. Who knew there were so many ways to enjoy fruit-filled yeast? I am not sure if there was a joke between "American Idol" and "PopTarts", but if there was, it wasn't lost on me.

There was a group of young adults dressed in matching t-shirts that were pulling the young fans up onto a dance floor and teaching them dance moves, which was very cute. After getting a couple of beers, Robin and I found an area where you could leave a message for your favorite Idol. I found Chris' and began to write when I was bumped from behind. I tried to continue but was bumped again. At this point, my message looked like a drunk had written it, so that is what I wrote: "Chris, You Rock! I'm Drunk!" I am not sure how appropriate this was since the 9 year old behind me seemed like a true fan and Chris' best friend (even though Chris didn't know it). I just hope Chris enjoyed the joke.

Robin and I decided it was time to find our free seats, and were surprised to find them closer to the stage than expected. We were about 8 rows from the orchestra floor to the left of the stage about 60 yards back. Not bad, especially when you looked up and noticed all the seats that were filled with fans up in the rafters. We knew of a co-worker that was going to be at the concert, too, but never saw her. I found out that she was probably 30 feet from us, we just couldn't see each other over the plethora of kids bouncing off each other from the multiple packages of PopTarts they had ingested.

(for those of you who are not fans of the show, you probably won't get into the synopsis of the performances, so you can skip on down to the bottom)

After inserting my bright yellow and orange earplugs, Mandisa started off the show with a bang...at least, in my opinion, for the women. She came out and dedicated the first song to the ladies (I'm Every Woman). Now, I didn't expect her to sing that to the fellas in the audience, but I felt like that was not the appropriate comment to make at the start of the show. She did dedicate the second song to the guys (If I Were Your Woman), but I just felt like dedications are done after a couple of songs into the set, not right from the get-go. She did sound great, though. She then shared a duet with Ace (Celine Dion's I'm Your Angel), and they sounded really good together. That was very surprising to me since I was not a big fan of Ace during the show. Come to think of it, I was impressed with all of the songs Ace did (Father Figure and Harder To Breathe). There was some 'cheese' factor with him taking off his jacket, but he knew who is audience was and how to play to them. This wasn't the last time the Velvetta was going to fly.

Ace, before leaving the stage and throwing his beanie into the crowd of fawning fifth graders, introduced Anaheim's own Lisa Tucker. Not a big Lisa fan, I pulled out my $3.25 bag of M&M's and began to munch away. However, the echo of the crunching could not stop the beautiful sound that was permeating my fluorescent plugs. She sat behind a keyboard set up center stage and, there alone, played and sang "Your Song" from Elton John. I began to think that this 17 year old had came into her own on this tour. I put the bag down and continued to listen as she performed "Someone Saved My Life Tonight" with ease. Little did I know about the train wreck that was about to come onstage.

"And, now I would like to introduce my best friend, Paris," was heard onstage through the mike.

The crowd sat still while she walked onstage. The two did a duet of "Waterfalls" from TLC (with, what can only be described as gradeschool choreography). The song fell flat, as did her two following songs (Midnight Train To Georgia and Crazy In Love). I find it funny, too, that she was the only one of the Idols that didn't use the hand-held microphone. She had on an ear mic that you see the likes of Janet, Britney, and Beyonce use. And that is not the only thing she stole from Beyonce. She decided to let everyone see that she could move her rump just as well. After all the flailing around on stage, one would think it couldn't get any worse. Then came Bucky.

Bathroom break.

It was amazing to see all the aisles fill with "women and children first" while the men were forced to sit through some country songs we didn't know. As the sits began to fill again, he starting singing "You're The One That I Want" from Grease. I thought it was a duet, but then I realized we had not seen Kelli Pickler. In comes Kelli all in leather, a la Olivia Newton John, and did a decent 'country' version with Bucky. Cheese Factor ALERT: After Bucky left, Kelli unzipped her leather jacket to show a bright red corset, then flung the jacket around. She decided to converse with the audience, which is her appeal, and pointed out at least 50 people to say "hey" to while saying she really enjoyed being there. She finished with "I'm The Only One", "Walking After Midnight" and "Something To Talk About" before leaving the stage for intermission.

Who knew the show would kick into high gear when we returned. My boy, Chris, took the stage first with Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love" that just brought the crowd to their feet. I think everyone stayed on their feet, at least the people who decide to move into the empty seats in front of us did. A family of 4 (Dad, Mom, and 2 Kids) filled in the empty space just before the lights went down, and then the kids stood for the rest of the show. The mother turned around and asked me if they were in the way, and even though they were, the concert is for the kids and not so much for the adults. I told her "no" and then bobbed and weaved my way through the end of the show.

After Led Zeppelin, Chris did "Wanted Dead Or Alive", "Renegade" and then started "Savin' Me" by Nickelback when Elliot entered the stage in a flash of light. They rocked the song, then Chris grabbed his guitar and left so Elliot's fans could enjoy "Moody's Mood For Love" and "Trouble". He brought out all the guys and did an acoustic version of "Patience" by Guns 'n Roses. Then the lights went dark.

I think they went dark for too long, because Katherine McPhee was next and I think we accidentally woke her up. She sang a boring version of "Black Horse and The Cherry Tree" and a version of "Think" where I 'think' she forgot the words. And, for someone who had fractured her ankle, she sure was running around a lot. Luckily she ended on "Somewhere Over The Rainbow", which the crowd ate up. Then the lights went dark one last time. It was time for...

Taylor Hicks could be seen on the monitor over the stage, but he wasn't on the stage. Everyone was looking around for him when I saw the mother in front of me point over my shoulder. There he was, running down the aisle right next to Robin and me. I think I turned into a little girl for a second or two, screaming "There he is!!! There is Taylor!!!" After I got my composure back, I enjoyed his "Jailhouse Rock"; his guitar ripping "Hollywood Knights"; his harmonica blowing on "Taking It To The Streets". He was doing his dance and enjoying performing for his fans, which is what it was all about.

There was an encore of "We Are The Champions" where the performers came off full of themselves, and "Living In America". We didn't stick around to hear the end of the latter, since there were about 20,000 people about to make a run for their cars. We still had a 45 minute drive home and I didn't want to be stuck in parking lot till 1:00 AM.

All in all, it was a good time. I think doing things out of the norm helps to keep me young. And hanging around 'tweens' doesn't hurt, either.

I Have To Give Them Credit; If I Don't, They'll Just Steal It

Did you know that "VISA" is an acronym? It is. It stands for Virtual Identity, Sans Autograph...or, at least, that is what it should be.

Just on a fluke, Robin was looking over our credit card statement. We are about to take a long needed vacation and wanted to make sure that we could use our VISA while we were cruising the Pacific Northwest. While scanning the charges on our bill like a Costco employee itemizing your receipt, she spotted something that didn't look right. There were charges at Union 76 gas stations for amounts that made us look like we owned a Hummer (or, at least a Hummer2). Every three days, there is was again. What went on for 18 days totaled almost $400 in gas that had not been pumped into our vehicle.

After calling up our bank and informing them of this, they were great and took the charges off (we still have to file a fraud report), and closed out our credit card. They informed us that it usually takes about 5 to 7 days to receive the new cards in the mail, but since our number was compromised and not lost, they would put a rush on it and we would get it in the mail on Wednesday (2 days). It was at this time that Robin and I realized that we had a hold on our cruise, and it had to be paid for by Tuesday or we would lose the room. Not to mention, we also had not purchased airline tickets to get to the city where the ship was originating. The timing was impeccable.

We decided to take it upon ourselves and do our own investigating. We figured our credit card number was stolen at a place we don't frequent that often. And, since the first charge was on July 31st and the "new" credit card was being swiped, it had to have happened a couple of days before. On our statement, we realized that we had been to Universal City Walk on the 29th and shopped at Abercrombie and Fitch and had a beverage at Karl Strauss. I don't know if an employee at either of these establishments compromised our credit or not (some say that this is the opportune moment for people standing behind you in line at the register to take a photo of your credit card with their picture phone), but this had to have been the time that it happened. I bring this up for my fellow Californians and anyone who vacations at popular tourist attractions. Be careful...and check your statement on a monthly, if not weekly or daily, basis. Learn from our tragedy and don't let this happen to you.

Or, "become one" with CoinStar and pay cash for everything.

The Times, They Have-a Changed

Robin and I were sent this email this past weekend and were totally awestruck. This is an ACTUAL article from "Housekeeping Monthly" from May 13th, 1955. I know the type is small, but I figured if I just typed it in here, no one would believe me.

A Working Actor's Lament (Chapter 32)

"One Act" That Is Hard To Understand

I don't know what it is about headshot...it seems that I could submit my photo and resume to every single casting director in this town and the only ones who will call me in for an audition are the casting directors who cast theater. Maybe I should get a new headshot.

Anyway, I submitted to 4 films and 1 theater production on Tuesday, the 15th. I received an email from the "theater" submission on Wednesday for an audition that day. It was for an evening of one acts that would be competing for "best of" status between the lot of them. There were 9 plays in all and during the audition, we would be auditioning for all 9 directors. No pressure. While waiting to be called into the audition room, I read a few pages from the scripts that were available and found that some of them were pretty funny. One, in particular, was about a couple who were getting a divorce and decided to invite their "couple friends" over and convince them that they should be their friend and not their future ex's. I heard my name called and walked into the room, nerves in check, until I stepped on the stage. For some reason, my body decided that now would be a great time to get that sensation of drowning in a pool of my own insecurities. Lucky for me, my monologue is about an actor who talks about a performance gone bad, so I used that to my advantage. I pulled out my trusty monologue and went about getting a job.

The next day, I got a phone call letting me know that 3 of the 9 directors would like to call me back for Saturday at 1:30 PM. I was happy. And, I was called back for the one about the couple breaking up. I was stoked. Cindy, the lady who called, told me that I would be getting the sides to the three shows by email, and if I didn't, contact her and she would let the directors know. I was on cloud-nine. It was about time I had a call back. I was ...I was...

That night I got home and thought I would have at least one email from one director who was interested (beside myself...that's it, I was beside myself. I knew I was something else). My inbox was empty. Maybe tomorrow, that would still be enough time to look over three different characters. But, tomorrow came and there was nothing. I called Cindy up and got her voice mail. I told her to contact me and let me know about getting sides, or if there were any. After a couple of hours waiting for Cindy to return my phone call, I went back onto the internet and found the email of the man who contacted me about the original audition, Chris. I wrote him on Friday night saying I was getting worried about not getting anything to prepare for my meeting with all three directors and would still like to see some sides, and then went to bed knowing that he would respond.

I woke up to find my inbox still empty. My call back was in 5 hours and I had tried to contact not one, but two different people associated with this production and had not heard from either. I sat at my computer and wrote an email to Chris informing him that I would not be showing up for the call back. I felt it was not fair to the directors that I would come unprepared for their show; it was not fair to my fellow actors to not be "present" for the call back and give them what would end up being a "very cold reading"; it was not fair to me to not give me the sides and be as prepared as my fellow actors. And, if there were no sides given out, let me know that; I would have at least shown up if the playing field was even.

I still have yet to hear from anyone. There are times when you have to make decisions that are rough. I am out here trying to become a working actor, and to turn down a job hurts, but is this the kind of environment I want to be in? Day after day, it just gets harder and harder.

Maybe it's my headshot.

Another Great Actor Leaves Us

Bruno Kirby, the hilarious sidekick of Billy Crystal in "When Harry Met Sally" and "City Slickers", as well as his comedic turn in such memorable films as "Good Morning, Vietnam", "This is Spinal Tap", and "We're No Angels", died at the age of 57 from leukemia.

Thanks for the Laughs!!

A Working Actor's Lament (Chapter 31)

Whistler While I Work

Upon packing up at my desk to head home, Robin walked up to my cubicle with news about the Whistler Film Festival. She was checking emails and read one from a random employee up in Whistler, Canada letting us know that we did not get accepted into their film festival. I am bummed but not surprised anymore.

I was talking to my one of my acting teachers, who, coincidentally, has a short film that he has been submitting to film festivals around the world. I told him that, at the time, we had made it into the Los Angeles Shorts Festival but were turned away from the Palm Springs one. He told me that we were doing pretty good at 50%. He then continued to inform me that we were pretty much on par with what he read in a magazine: if you are submitting to festivals, assume you are only going to get into 4% of them. This coming from a man who, also, did not get into Palm Springs but did get into L.A. Shorts. And his film, "The Wishing Well", was nominated for Best of Fest at Syracuse Intl. FF (2006), Winner at the Houston FF (2006), Best Animated Film at the Boston Intl. FF (2006), and was an Official Selection at the San Francisco FF (2006). If my math is correct, that puts him submitting to at least 100 Film Festivals.

By the end of my submissions, if 4% is the norm, I should make it into at least one more Film Festival. But, I am hoping for at least two.

A Working Actor's Lament (Chapter 30)

I Guess The Jokes On Me

And I thought the theater didn't know what they had gotten themselves into.

I arrived at the theater to take the photos for "Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story" around 6:30 PM. I thought it might be a good idea to have a late Frappaccino since I was a little lethargic. Upon arriving back to the theater, the commotion was overwhelming. There was hollering from the sound and lighting guys, furniture being set on stage, actors socializing under the Tungsten-Halogen lights. Looking around, it seemed to me that there was nobody in charge. Then I heard my name in the question form: "Sean?"

Last week, I received a call from Gail, the producer of the up-coming production at Theatre Palisades, about what day would be best to take the photographs for the theater and for her cast and crew. After telling her that Tuesday would be the best day for me, she seemed to think that would not be enough time to get the photos back to her and have her develop them to post throughout the theater by opening night. After convincing me, she thought Monday would be a better day. We hung up the phone with August 14th etched into my date book.

"Gail?", I heard myself say. As she started to walk towards me, I knew this was the woman who I had conversed with the previous week. We talked for a while about what she wanted (some posed shots, some photos during the rehearsal) and what I would take (some posed shots, some photos during the rehearsal) and it seemed from the start we were on the same page. I think the page was right, but we were reading different books at libraries across town from each other.

I walked out into the lobby to call my wife to tell her that I loved her (I do this just in case my aneurysm decides to burst). As I hung up the phone, an actress from the show walked up to me and introduced herself. Martha then informed me that she would love if I took some solo photos of her for publicity. I could feel the vein in my brain start to give. I told her that I take the photos for the theater and I am sure to take some close up as well as group shots throughout the night. As she walked away, the bubble in my brain began to subside...for the time being.

When I walked back into the theater, I watched as the stage manager lowered a slab of wood with the word "Apollo" painted on it in big, red letters. As the piece of death wood began to inch towards the stage, one of the two cables holding it up loosened and caused the board to fall an additional foot or two. Realizing that this might not be the best thing, heads were put together and decided to lower the "Apollo" billboard to the stage and prop it up for the audience to see. Knowing that I would have to take photos, I was not sure if this sign was part of the show and needed to be photographed, or was I to shoot around it. I inquired about this to the producer, and, I assume the heads got back together and decided that it was better to have this huge chunk of wood off the stage for the rehearsal. They informed the set designer about this, and as he struggled with removing the cable from the wood, the stage manager asked him if he needed any help.

"We need to move this because it is in the photographers way."

Being that I was only 10 feet away from him, his condescending, passive-aggressiveness brought back that pulsing sensation in my head. I think this is where I began to black out...or maybe it was just wishful thinking that I would. All I know is that the pounding vein I heard in my head stayed with me for a while.

For the next three and a half hours, I took photos...photos of scenes that were repeated over and over again. When I got bored of taking the same photos of the same scenes, I would sit there and rub the vein protruding from my temple (when would it burst and put me out of my misery?). I kept thinking that the producer wanted me to come on this day and they were not even ready for me. Then the lights came up at 10:30 PM. I looked down at my camera and noticed I had taken over 300 photos...and realized we had only been able to get through Act One.

Being that I have a job I have to get up at 5:00 AM for, I informed the producer that I had to go. I don't think they were planning on continuing onto Act Two, but I couldn't take a chance. I heard the director giving notes to the actors (not really understanding why, since nobody really had any time to act up there) and then release them for the night. A couple of the actors came up to me as I was packing up and asked if I was coming back tomorrow for Act Two.

"HELL, NO!!", I heard my vein scream.

I called my wife on the way home, explaining that if I wasn't going to sleep behind the wheel of the car for the next 30 minutes, she wasn't sleeping either. However, as I talked to her, I found myself feeling bad that the actors were not going to have any photos of the second act of this show they had put their blood, sweat and tears into.

I will call the theater tomorrow and see what I can do for them. Damn, I hate my conscious. You would think that my aneurysm could have taken that part of my brain out.

A Working Actor's Lament (Chapter 29)

I'm Official...Officially What, I Have No Idea

Robin and I have taken it upon ourselves to take headshots for actors who either (1) cannot afford the average $300 that photographers charge in Los Angeles, or (2) are tired of paying the average $300 that photographers charge in Los Angeles. Helping out those actors was the only plan when we decided to start Spence Photography. It is funny how things change.

This past weekend, we received a flyer in the mail for a production at Theatre Palisades for their new show "Buddy" that opens on August 18th. I had previously taken photos for a close friend who had produced a show there, "The Bad Seed", who wanted photos for the theater and for the cast and crew as a gift. No problem. However, I remember someone at the theater asking me if I would be interested in taking the photos for the theater for the following show, "Fatal Attraction", too. Hey, they would even pay me for my time. Then I was asked if I would be willing to take more photos for the theater for the upcoming show, "Buddy". Why not. I have had a good experience so far. Was there a pattern forming?

Looking at the flyer, I realized that I had to take the photos sometime soon and had yet to hear from anyone about when I would need to be there to snap photos. Well, that call came today. I was asked to be the "Official Photographer" of the theater. Every show for this season, and for a few seasons to come, would have the Spence Photography seal of freshness.

Season tickets, suplimental income, a one-day job every 2 months...I hope they know what they have gotten themselves into.

A Working Actor's Lament (Chapter 28)

And The Hits Just Keep Coming

The actor paced back and forth as his wife made the call. As his dog lay on the floor, praying that his owner was aware of his location, the actor listened as his wife talked to the woman on the other end of the phone:

"Los Angeles International Short Film Festival? I was just wondering if you had notified everyone about possible acceptance into your festival."

His heart began race and do cartwheels at the same time, like Ricky Bobby's car did in "Talladega Nights". He remembered the email he received from the LAISFF a week before asking, if accepted, which format his film would be screened. This couldn't be a bad thing, right?

"Yes, we did receive that email."

"Sean Spence. Sure, it is called 'Lucidity'. Sure, I'll hold"

That was it!!! A smile came across his face as the sweat began to dry from the palms of his hands and from between the toes on his feet. He began to realize that he was lucky he was married because the writer of his blogs sure didn't paint a pretty picture of him. But he had more important things on his mind. Why wasn't his wife talking to the person on the phone anymore? She had sat there for over a minute before he heard another sound from her.

"Sounds great. Thanks."

His wife hung up the phone. He could feel her excitement. She told him that the nice lady on the phone informed her that if they had received the email about the format of our film, it was a good sign. When he asked her about the long pause, she told him the lady on the other end of the phone seemed to be flustered when she told her the name of our short film. After coming back on the phone, she said they should be receiving an email in the next 5 minutes.

They hugged; they kissed; they broke out the bottle of wine they had been saving for this specific occation: a vintage 2005 Sutter Home White Zinfandel from the six-pack box they bought at Costco the previous day. This was it, they were going to be in the Los Angeles Short Film Festival.

"Ding"

It was here, the email that would change their lives, at least their day. As they opened and read each letter of each word, they were confused. They were not accepted into the film festival. What was going on? Was this some sick joke? Where was Alan Funt? Where was Tom Bergeron? As the actor tore up his apartment looking for the hidden cameras that were not there, he thought he was being over-dramatic. Sure, he only thought of tearing up his apartment, but he quickly realized that he would have looked retarded. As he continued to read, he realized that they were still going to screen his short film, just not 'officially', in a sub-category called "Los Angeles Filmmakers Showcase".

He was more confused than ever. He decided to call up the nice lady his wife talked to to clarify this email. After talking to the woman, he found out that his film would be shown at the same venue during the same time frame as all the other films, but that his film was not part of the festival competition. He would get all the perks of being in the festival (passes, theater screening, etc.), but he would not be able to win any award for his film. He hung up the phone and thought about what he had just heard.

For the next couple of hours, he pouted around the apartment. How could a film that was more thought provoking, more visually stunning than last year's submission, "The Adventures of Mapboy", not be accepted. Then it hit him, he was still going to have his film in the festival, he couldn't say it was an 'official selection' of the festival. That was all. No big whoop. Who cares? His film was going to be out there for the world to see, or at least Southern California...probably during the work week...in the early afternoon...while the town was still at work...

Fricken A, man. This was a good day.

An Actor's Personal Opinions of Mel

I figured since I am in the industry, some people might be looking at my blog to get an insiders point of view about how I feel about this whole "Mel" situation. Yes, I do have my opinions on the matter, and they might not be the most popular, but I am one of the few that have to stand behind this man and defend him.

Yes, he had some big shoes to fill. Sideshow Bob was popular with the kids and all, but once he started his conspiracy to kill Krusty the Klown, he lost all my respect. And who could fill those huge, villainous, homicidal shoes but Sideshow Mel, and fill them quickly. He didn't even need a huge welcome once he took over Sideshow Bob's position over a decade ago, he was just there. No need to explain the bone in the blue hair, we accept you. Just pick up that slide whistle and take me to that fun-loving land of yours.

I know there are those nay-sayers that think you should be raked across the coals for being an atheist, lactose intolerant, and marrying Barbara, Krusty the Klown's sister. But how many heed your meteorological skills from your hair-bone; or laugh when you let Krusty pour liquid nitrogen down your pants and crack your butt with a hammer; or cheered upon taking the responsibility of Jury Foreman and acquitting Mona Simpson on her sabotaging of Mr. Burns Germ Warfare lab. Although you knew it would anger Mr. Burns, you showed courage under pressure. Kudos to you, SS Mel.

I know it is not the most glamorous job...how many people would allow their boss to use them as a mop? But you are always there with a smile on your face and bone in your head.

So I say "Back off, America". Sideshow Mel has been through the ups and downs of celebrity. His show has been cancelled, forcing him to work at a taco stand, but he has persevered and took Krusty's pleas to jump back into the public spotlight. I would submit to anyone out there to take on this humiliation and still be mocked by the public.

It's not like he made racial slurs after getting a DUI from Officer Sugartits.