I wonder. And I ponder. A lot. And a fair bit. This. That. Gibber. Even more wondering and pondering shall be going on now that I have decided to cut all kinds of worry. Pointless. Not just mine. Others. Udders. Everyone’s. Too much worry floating aboot. No need for mine to clog up the system even more. Dumb enough. Especially when it’s about stuff that has not and might not even happen. Like the end of the world. Which is not for another two years. Pointless worry like that. Two years!?! A fair chunk away. Plenty to do until then. From now on, I shall only worry about other people. Concern for other people. Worry is a word which shall be banished. Which is why I ponder. And I wonder. About myself. And if perhaps I am out to sabotage myself. Self saboteur. On a constant basis.
Take the coffee meeting I had the other day. Last week I was approached by a talent manager about the possibility of being represented by him. Approached in the gym. While I was DJ’igging. Halfway up the stairs. In the gym full of mostly gay guys. All very legit sounding. All very promising. Anyways, pinch of salt. Run those circles. Might I be discovered in the gym? We all have to start somewhere! Go along. See if it would just be another Orgy Joe situation. Or. If it could actually be something. Starbucks. Coffee. No, I’m fine for milk, thanks… Away we go! Talent manager spiel, impressing me with his list of clients. Not A-list movie stars or anything, but people with their own TV shows, people in movies, even a few heads from the Sopranos. All legit, good work. Now. Time to impress back. Just one quick gulp of coffee. And impress I did, I assume. By dribbling the gulp of roasting hot coffee out of mouth. Dribble. Drivel. Dribble. Sweet Lord, apologies… crikey, me poor tongue… I need a bib, sweet Mother of… where was I… oh yeah… hubulla. Impressive work all round. Sabotage on. At least in the end I was dancing. Me shall see. Dribble off. Meet on.
Beverly Hills Bum
Lesson learnt at least. No more coffee during coffee meetings. Cold drinks only. In fact, vary up the coffee meetings. Another meeting yesterday. Agent on? Threw on some clothes. Headed off to the meeting. Lunch, in Beverly Hills. Get down to Beverly Hills. Remembered how classy the whole area is. Swank everywhere. Marble streets. Diamonds sparkling. And me. In my shorts. T-shirt. And just- out-of-bed-Big-Bird-bob hair. All I needed was a cup. Maybe a sign. Could’ve sat down on the curb with ease. Please give me money. Free hugs for food. Ho-diddy-bo. Hi-diddy-ho. Did well making the effort. I am looking the part. Should really go home and change. Too late now saboteur… How’s it going?! Here for the meeting. Hubulla, homeless, hobo, head up on me, headshots? Hubulla! Thankfully, this meeting also went quite well. In fact, very promisingly well. My plan from yesterday has been bumped down already. New alternative in place. One which does make more sense. Stand-up, head-shots, spec, scripts, book, brand… giddy up. Hobo off. Meet on.
Opie! Arrghhhuuuaghh... I Know!
Sabotage was tried twice. Thankfully I got my dodge on. My biggest saboteur is something else though. Need to sort it out. Easy enough. Not a big thing. Just my inability to speak a language which people here can fully understand. English. I speak it. They speak it. Just not the same brand. Mine appears to sound like Opie from Family Guy. I used to think that people didn’t get every fourth or fifth word I said… Howdy. My name is Mark. I am from Ireland… ‘Merrick? From Maryland? Heeeey!’ That kind of thing. Now, I see that I’m lucky if people fully understand one sentence in every four. Gist, appears to be the highest level of understanding I can get. If I was to change topic mid-stream, people would be none the wiser. Might start throwing in the word carrots at random intervals from now on. As it is, a lot of nodding in my direction when I open my mouth. Interested in what I have to say. Just missing their cue to speak when I ask a question. Nodding along while I wait for an answer. Realising they have no clue what I just said. Picking up the baton once more. Hubulla hubulla hubulla. Finally realising it is their turn to speak. Eyes widening with realisation. And asking the same question… ‘Can you do an American accent?’
Presumably they are just politely asking if I am in fact able to speak English. So I white lie. Yup, down to a tee. Respond with a few Yee-haws. Bringing a smile back to their faces. Perhaps you can be a cash cow, kind of smile. Smile on! All of which has me wondering and pondering out loud the past couple of days. Various sentences. Any sentence. All out loud. All in various accents. Walking around. Talking to myself. Shouting at myself. Trying to zone in on my American accent. Accents are the easy part. Just more that I do enjoying jumping across states while saying one sentence. Maybe head to Ireland for a word. Over to Ozland. Back to Yanktown. Yee-haw, dude, like, where’s the ba’, mate? Mighty stuff. Work to be done. Re to the de. Sabotage off. Giddy up this mighty cover…
Time To Pretend – Jonsi