This is what I will name my first born child. It's a good name. They don't even need a last name. Just Saveus. It's French, yo! I dig it too. I also dug the concert/play I went to tonight. It was AMADEUS with the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra and Neil Patrick Harris.
In case you don't know Neil from his Doogie Howser days, he's the guy who ripped lines and did X in Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. Neither were bad works, if you ask me. His version of Amadeus wasn't bad either. I mean, there were parts where you could tell he was pulling from the film version, but, overall, he did a good job with Peter Schaffer's extravaganza.
I, myself, could have done it better. I was born to play Mozart. Ha! Yes, Mozart or a Middle Eastern guy who is killed by Keifer Sutherland. Wouldn't that be grand? Well, it just might be on the horizon. Who knows?
I got a call today from a friend who wanted me to send in headshots to a casting agent.
"Oh, Pirooz! I know you write books and everything, but just send me your headshots."
"All I got are author pics."
"That's great. Send those."
"Yes! Send them!"
I sent them. I had no idea what it was for. I didn't even ask. I figured this is Hollywood, and just be open.
When I got an email about what it was for, I was pretty flabbergasted. I even thought, is Hollywood this easy? Maybe, I need to do acting. Who knows?
Not me. All I know is that in this town you meet people and these people meet people, and they throw ideas around, and your name comes up, and then they're like, lets put him in this. It's really fascinating. It's also really simple. Out here, if you hang in entertainment circles you're bound to have an opportunity show itself. I mean, I have done more acting here than writing.
Fascinating. Saddening. Okayening.
I haven't really talked to anyone about my views on Hollywood. Sometimes I say a few words about dreamers, how it's a good thing because everyone is dreaming and that creates an equal playing field because anyone could shoot up and be somebody. That's sort of accurate. At least until my run in with homeless slam poet. Now I realize it's a bit more than just having a dream in Hollywood. It's being in the right circles, being authentic, and socializing. That's Hollywood.
Like the other day, I go see Dacheux's Glu Gallery. She's doing her thing, kicking ass, hobnobbing, you know? I'm mingling in and around her because I don't know a soul, but then lo and behold there's Jason Schwartzman.
Then I mingle with Dacheux's compadres and I realize most everyone at this scene is either a casting director or producer or some kind of big shot for major motion pictures.
They even give me a once over when I ask what they do.
I ask anyway. I want to know. Who is this human being? What do you do on this planet?
"I'm a casting director," she says.
Then I get the cold shoulder again. That's A-OK by me. She must think I'm an actor. She must think I want her to look at my headshots. I don't though. I'm just there for Dacheux. I'm her cheerleader, whether she needs it or not. And these days she might not need it at all. That girl is tearing it up in Hollywood. Man, oh, man, my droogs if you could see her fancy wag with those skully mucks. It was pure bright sight to see. I tell thee. Could make a man out of a plumber and piecemeal out of a dog. You know the expression.
Anyway, it looks like I'm back to producing in telelvision. I had an interview today, and I'm on at another production company doing a crafting show. Who would have guessed it? It looks like I am meant to do something in television.
"I'm proud of you little buddy," Dacheux tells me. "You done good for yourself."
"No, you, little Dacheux," I say. "You are the ass kicker."
"Well, hold on there eh - you are a doing well I tell ya."
Ay, I hear you Cap'n. That I am. I would have liked more time off. Maybe, not. 3 days was good. I got to run a few miles, query two agents, and sleep for about 18 hours. That's plenty good.
I will talk to you peeps tomorrow.
P.S. If you're wondering about these pics, you'll have to come back on Sunday to see what they're all about.
Someone at work just sent me this clip. It's fantastic.
I told her I liked it.
She made fun of me.
"What's with the nosebleeds?" I ask.
"If we make fun of you, we like you," she said.
I think I'm in love.
Behrle found this for us. "...black juice..." It's a gem of a poem. I couldn't stop laughing. I couldn't even make it through the clip. I had to stop. Put it to rest.
Yeah, maybe, it's not for people to visit. Yeah, that could be right. In any case, I have linked up to Mr. Behrle. He has been writing some wonderful poetry. There was a chapbook on his site at one point last week. Very good.
I even went for a run the other day and thought about Behrle. I wondered why he was so violent. I wondered if he was afraid of his own success. Then I figured we're all something at some point. Then I thought it didn't really matter. Then I thought about that chapbook. I would like to have it. It is beautiful.
Anyway, still at work. The job is icing. So easy.
I'll tell you. Put an artist in television and they'll have plenty of time to live well and do their real work at the same time.