Ju "Fella" Myriad

I run into somebody I know at random every single day in the city.  Not just the regulars at my work, but people I knew in high school, college, strange inter-collegiate and inter-scholastic extra curricular activities.  

But most frequently at work.  I ran into a girl who was involved in theater from my high school, and is getting her graduate degree in music from DePaul.  She was a senior and barely recognized me.  I must have devastated her with my refined, chiseled physique and sharp features.  I was, after all, a freshman when I knew her.  

The weird one was a couple of weeks ago.  In the middle of the afternoon, I'm usually pretty freakin' bored.  So when a customer comes in, I dish it fast and hard: 

"Hi, how ya doin'?  Can I get a drink started for ya?  How about something to eat?  An espresso machine?  What about twelve [Italian for Twenty] [trademarked blended coffee and milk concoction]s?"

A guy whom I don't recognize comes in.  I go in for said spiel and stop dead.  

"Terry?"

"Mike?"

Handshake.

I smile.  "What's up man, I haven't seen you in years."  

I hadn't.  This guy (whose name I'm masking with a pseudonym) was an acquaintance in my elementary school years through high school.  We were always cool with each other as I recall and I always found his antics amusing.  The last actual memory I can recall of him was in our junior year, when he mercilessly tortured our Spanish III teacher by bombarding her with phrases like "Señora, ¿fuma drogas?"

"Do you live up here now, Terry?"  Here, of course, being Lincoln Park.

"Yeah, man.  I'm managing for this construction company."

"So, you're like a foreman or something?"

"Yeah," he says, with a slight smirk.

I grab his drink for him and ring him up.  A pivotal moment:  Does he get it for free?  A discount?  Full price?  

The reasoning is difficult.  One could say for old times' sake he should get it for free.  It's also possible that I could get freakin' canned if I give out too many freebies.  But, even that could be a good thing (I do often fantasize about being fired for some reason or another).

Before I can decide, however, he says "So what are you doing here?"

"Well...just...auditioning, you know.  Trying to be an actor," I reply trepidatiously.  

"...cool."

He had that slimy "Well, look at that kid who was in all of the AP classes working at a coffee shop" tone.  

Suddenly, I have a flash of memory from junior high.  Him sitting at the large dining room table at my house with a bunch of other young guys.  Wearing blue shirts.  It's a Sunday night meeting for my Webelos den.  My mom is the den mother.  She's talking about an upcoming camp trip...and Terry makes a smart-ass remark under his breath about packing double the food...  

...for my mom.

I lift my head from the register...and give him my own patented smirk.

"That'll be $3.58."

Turandot DeNoyes and Delisi Friedan

My dear, close friend Eli has flirted with internet celebrity before.  You can see his Food Network video here, and his subsequent interview on Inside Edition here.  The first video, notice, has over half-a-million views.

However, he's now entered the realm of local celebrity in his own burg.  He lives in downtown Naperville, and for those of you unfamiliar, Naperville is an affluent suburb southwest of Chicago (an area where we are both originally from).  He's been living in an apartment there for a few years.  This entry on his blog seems to sum up the entire situation nicely.  

In brief, he lobbied the city government to enforce noise ordinance laws downtown, where the live amplification of Beatles cover bands in d-bag bars is almost deafening in his apartment.  His cries fell on deaf ears (aren't I clever?), and after posting yet another YouTube video (which got about 2,000 views before he took it down), citations were issued to several of the offending bars.  He has since been featured on the cover of the local newspaper.  But some of the residents were none-too-happy, accusing Eli of essentially ruining live music downtown.  Follow his dialogue with this strangely voracious lot in his blog entries over the last week or so.

I'm not entirely peeved at his ease in garnering celebrity, per se.  In fact, I'm pleased.  But this...this is something which I will never experience.  Someone among these Eli-decriers has made a shirt in his honor.  

The jealousy...bubbles.

And, of course, the pleasure that my friend is a celebrity in two arenas.  But...dammit.  I'M the actor.  Have you SEEN my Altoids ad?  HRM???  And all he has to be is a socially active neighbor.  You can't buy that kind of publicity.  And I really mean you can't buy it; YouTube is completely free as I recall.  

My advice to you all: the next time your neighbor's dog poops in your lawn, tape it and YouTube it.  You could be on the front page of the Sun Times (You thought Tribune?  Ha!).

Despite my bitterness, please support my pal and tell him how wonderful he is.  He's really just way cooler than me.  I'm starting to come to terms with it.

Laverneus Itallone

Ah, a day with nothing and everything to do.  Once again.

The nature of this "business" is strange.  I use "business" loosely at this point, seeing how I'm rarely paid and frequently passed over in my young career.  It's something I have to keep telling myself: it is, indeed, young.  I've really only been at it a year or so, and I'm already a Clio award-winning actor and have been well-paid in a few productions.  But...yeah.  Call it the human propensity toward wanting more, but I do.  

Yet, I keep working.  I seriously cannot complain because I am busy.  And I'm meeting people, right?  That's the way it's supposed to be.  I'm supposed to be destitute and ill-fed.  I'll tell you what:  I'd much rather be a well-fed artist.  I keep hoping that my persistence will pay off.  That when I'm still doing this at thirty, as Louie Anderson says in Coming To America, "That's when the big bucks start rolling in!"

More later.  Now to tidy up my room and get ready to rock some serious one-act play festivaling.  AGAIN!