Believe!

"I know that sounds like a cat poster, but it's true." -- Vitruvius

The optimist inside of me believes I have an amazing Hollywood career ahead of me. Unfortunately my inner pessimist keeps pinning the optimist down, sitting on his face, and launching lethal butt missiles.

Dare I say that the optimist is finally fighting back? Finally emerging from the pessimist's cheeks? Finally launching a few weapons from his own turret? He's always had his moments, but they were too few and far between to really give the pessimist a run for his money. Or his gas mask.

Now is the time for the optimist to fly like a kitty and heed the words of a master builder. It's time to prove I am special by building myself up and destroying the blocks in my way. Today I will construct a new outlook and Lego of the deconstructive attitudes of the past.

Tomorrow I will stop overusing references from that one movie about those little block-like things.

Can you feel me?

Let's have a little inspirational session. Just you and me and a few people that have accomplished a thing or two in their lives. Hopefully we both feel better after this virtual hug fest of pastel colored unicorns and strawberry flavored hope.

Some say that Francis guy was a sissy, but I think he was a saint. If these words of his don't fill you with at least a hint of fuzzy warmth, don't bother reading any further; you're not my target audience.

No matter where you're at in your career, there are necessary things that have to be done. Some of them can be done today; some can be done tomorrow. But they must be done if you expect to get wherever it is you want to be. Much to the chagrin of many who are starting out in the world of screenwriting or acting or directing, there are no shortcuts.

Are there lottery winners? Sure. But not many. Most overnight success stories are actually years in the making. They begin by doing what's necessary (education, practicing one's craft), then doing what's possible (networking, practicing one's improved craft), and finally achieving the impossible (worldwide stardom, private jets, and fancy macaroni and cheese).

By the way, does it really need to be stated that if you're in this for worldwide stardom you're never going to be satisfied? Okay, good. We're on the same page.

Next quote. By a palm tree. How nice.

Even if sports are to you what common sense is to Justin Bieber, you know the name Lombardi. I'm pretty sure half the streets in Green Bay are named Lombardi Street or Lombardi Way or Lombardi Favre. Oh, and the trophy for winning that bowl that's really super is named after him, too.

Vince Lombardi inherited a team that finished with one victory the season before he took over. Under his tutelage, the Packers won seven games the following year. That was 1959, long before NFL teams changed dramatically from year to year with free agency. In other words, the team that won a single game in 1958 was pretty much the same team that won six more in 1959. Lombardi knew what he had and he got more out of it than anyone expected.

My point? I don't know. Something about Legos I think.

Nah, my point is that we all come from different backgrounds, carry different baggage, have different privileges and shortcomings. Yes, plenty of people get their start in Hollywood because they have an "in" while those of us with zero built-in connections pound on door after door only to be pelted with double-edged razor blades and anthrax balloons.

I exaggerate. The razor blades are single-edged.

Still, rejection hurts. Actually, rejection would be a welcome reprieve from the silence that follows so many attempts to reach those on the other side. We can lament our misfortune of being born into blue-collar flyover families, or we can just work that much harder.

Let's combine the quotes from St. Francis of Assisi and Vince Lombardi:

"Start by doing what's necessary with what we have."

It's so important to have a clear understanding of what we have and what we can do with it. I've spent so many years letting my inner pessimist have his way, sulking in my lack of money, connections, and support (another topic altogether that I'll maybe get into at some point).

I finally had to recognize what I do have -- talent, telephone, Internet, books, magazines, podcasts, support (not from everybody, but that's okay!), family, friends, shelter, food, and water.

And gum. How fat would I be if I didn't have gum?

With libraries and Amazon, we have access to more books than anyone could ever read about acting, directing, writing, producing, editing, and everything else involved in making movies. With iTunes, we have access to dozens of podcasts featuring Hollywood insiders who are already experiencing the success we want to have. With the Internet, we can locate the e-mail address and phone number of every agent and producer from here to Timbuktu. I can't tell you how many letters I've written to Al Gore thanking him for inventing the Internet.

Okay, I can. Zero.

The point is everything is awesome when we're living our dream.

Wait, no it's not. The Lego Movie lied to me! I feel like such a blockhead.

Awesome or not, there are plenty of things we need to do before we can realize our dreams. I will keep reaching out. I will keep writing. I will keep acting. I will keep learning. Over and over and over again.

We can't expect to see tangible progress every day as we pursue our dreams of being a consistently working actor, director, or screenwriter. But at the end of each day, we should rest on our double-decker couches and feel satisfied that we did something to get closer to achieving our dreams. Whether we listen to an educational podcast, read something, reach out to someone, write a few pages, or spend twelve hours on set, we need to take time every single day to further our career.

Not every seed will grow and those that do will do so at different times. But if we are patient and continue to plant them, one day we will reap a harvest more bountiful than anything we could ever have imagined.

Believe!

Sassy Cassie, not from Tallahassee

After a late summer storm tore apart my kids' playset, I was building a bigger, better scrap-lumber fortress, distracted by a marathon of podcasts. Sure, I stared blankly at the growing structure from time to time as the voices coming through my earbuds mesmerized. I may have mismeasured a few times and accidentally trimmed a fingernail with a miter saw, but I have no regrets. I love learning. I love multitasking. I even multitask while typinggnngn ngingnnkdk...............

While I impersonated Bob the Builder, I listened to an episode of Pilar Alessandra's On the Page screenwriting podcast (episode #369) with her guests, Cheryl Texeria and Cassie Daniels. Aside from wondering if Cheryl had a Yankee first baseman for a husband or if Cassie had a Dumb and Dumber dad, I really enjoyed their well articulated syllables. They were bubbly, funny, upbeat... just a bundle of shared positivity. Check out the podcast. It's ear candy.

I love reaching out to people on their way to success, so I tracked down Cassie and asked her a few questions before she blocked my e-mail address. I'm not sure she's getting my faxes, so I'll fill in any gaps with my own answers.

Why Cassie? Why do I spend more time asking others about their experiences than sharing my own in this blog that I foolishly subtitled, Reflections on my journey from small-town Minnesota to Hollywood?

Truth is, I don't relish talking about myself. I don't feel the need to put into the universe answers to unasked questions. I know there are a few who take interest in my escapades in this crazy industry, but really, I'd rather make small-talk about the weather and illnesses currently going around than talk about my acting/writing/directing career.

Okay, that's a steaming pile of reindeer poo. I hate small talk. But I don't like talking about my own experiences in this industry unless I feel someone is genuinely interested. And I don't know that many are. Certainly not enough to warrant my own little corner here in Internetblogville.

Then there's the fact that I've been chasing this Hollywood dream for a solid fifteen years with only modest success. The subtitle of this blog should be, Reflections on my journey from small-town Minnesota to moderately-sized-town Minnesota since that's all the further I've made it.

So back to Cassie Daniels. I'm interested in her career for two reasons. First, our backgrounds and interests in the industry are similar. Second, she and Cheryl sounded delightfully cool on Pilar's podcast. I like cool people. I root for cool people. If I can do anything to help cool people out, I do it. Introducing Cassie Daniels to my three blog followers is going to do wonders for her career and then the karma chameleons will slither their way to me.

See. It's all selfish. Just my way of manipulating karma.

At least I'm not delaying the point of this blog entry. Time to dive in and talk about Cassie Daniels, someone who is going to be huge soon. I'm lucky I got to her when I did.

But let me just say first, as I sit here at the coffee shop, I was struggling with the decision to buy a hot or cold drink this morning and I chose cold. Now I'm chilled. Not chilled enough that I need my coat back on, but I wish I had a thicker shirt or a sweatshirt to throw on. Do I regret my decision to get a cold drink? No. I regret my decision to wear the shirt I wore.

The color is nice. It's blue which brings out my eyes.

But enough about coffee and shirts and karma chameleons. Let's talk about Cassie Daniels.

Tomorrow.

I Want it All (And I Want it Now)

"Don't aim for success if you want it; just do what you love and believe in, and it will come naturally." -- David Frost

There's an episode of The Simpsons in which Homer buys a burrito at the Kwik-E-Mart and Apu tells him it will be ready after 60 seconds in the microwave. "But I want it now," Homer whines.

Yep. I'm Homer.

Why is it so hard to wait for my burrito?

Cuz I'm hungry.

And the only satiation for my hunger is a film career burrito with philanthropic salsa and a side of refried social activism. Of course, I wouldn't mind washing it all down with a financial security margarita.

Here's the thing. If I really want the burrito, I'm going to make it myself. The homemade version may take longer than its microwave counterpart, but it's bound to taste a whole lot better.

I've been working on the recipe for more than 15 years and I think I've finally concocted the right mixture of blood, sweat, and tears. And beef. As in beefcake. Cuz I work out and stuff.

Anyway.

Aside from my weekly self-loathsome breakdowns -- my most recent one was triggered by reading this earlier blog entry (five years later and I still haven't achieved the goal I set forth there) -- I'm more motivated and optimistic than ever before. That burrito is cooking and soon I will devour it.

But for now, I'll do my best to follow David Frost's suggestion of just doing what I love and believe in and allowing success to come to me naturally. After all, I wouldn't want to be stuck with a Monsanto burrito, right? You know, unnatural. Cuz I want success to come naturally.

At least I have a future in running metaphors into the ground.

And the future of this blog will refocus on more specific experiences in this non-cullinary journey of mine from Minnesota to Hollywood. There will still be salsa. There will always be salsa. Especially when the chips are down.

When you got a job to do you gotta do it well

"Whatever your life's work is, do it well.  A man should do his job so well that the living, the dead, and the unborn could do it no better." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

The regular delivery of my neighbors' mail in my curbside box is annoying, but tolerable.

Watching her clench a letter in her lips before putting it in my box is gross, but not deplorable.

The breaking of my and my neighbor's mailbox flags is a nuisance, but I suppose it happens.

And the time she refused to bring a package to my door last winter because I hadn't yet shoveled the inch of freshly fallen snow from my walk was flabbergasting, but I got over it.

But now she's making Newman look good.

My neighbors and I do our best to clear the snow from the curb beneath our mailboxes, but our latest powdery cloud dump left a pile of white fluff that was admittedly an inconvenience for the stubby little truck with the steering wheel on the wrong side.

An inconvenience.  Certainly not an insurmountable obstacle.

After a day without mail, we received this note:

As did several neighbors.

Just the note.  Not our mail.

Our lovely carrier managed to get to our mailboxes to drop these notes but opted to keep our mail at ransom.

Oh well.  Not the end of the world.  I had intended to make a clearer path anyway.

So I did.

And did she deliver our mail the next day?

No.

How 'bout the next?

Nope.

I finally got to the post office and explained my displeasure.  I wasn't alone.  Nor was I offered an apology or an adequate explanation.

Turns out the carrier, that very day, delivered a package to my neighbor's door and explained that the snow wasn't adequately cleared.

Luckily, my local newspapers are delivered via Sherman Tank so they're able to get through the vast dam of snow - nay - frozen rock without leaving behind tactless notes.

Was there a time when people would do their jobs without manufacturing excuses and blaming others for their decision to underperform?  Or have we always been this lazy and unappreciative of actually having work?

There are countless folks who would absolutely love to have my postal carrier's job.  Is mail delivery a life passion of many?  Probably not.  But it's a job.  A good job.  With benefits.  How many people don't have that luxury?  And here is a woman who refuses to bend an inch when saddled with even a minor inconvenience.

What is this rant's relevance to a blog supposedly centered on a guy's journey from small-town Minnesota to Hollywood?

I'm glad you asked.

Well, I'm glad I asked.

In my efforts to establish myself in the entertainment industry, I have been burdened by more than a Crayola crayons' box worth of menial, uncreative projects or parts of projects.  Putting finishing touches on a video of drying paint in the middle of the night isn't exactly living the dream, but doggone it, I don't want to phone it in on anything.

(For those literalists out there, I've never actually done a video of drying paint.  It was a metaphor.)

The end results - drying paint videos or otherwise - don't always prove I gave my all, but it's not for lack of effort.  I have a hard time investing anything less than 100%.  Usually.  I mean, sometimes I vacuum lazily or buy canned chicken stock or run at a slower pace than I'm capable...

I digress.

My point - no, really, I have one - is that work is a privilege and should be treated as such.  And lest I write myself into a corner here with implications that I really am committed 100% to everything I do, the full disclaimer here is that I'm reminding myself to appreciate any work I get.  If it helps pay the bills and buy Barbies and Matchbox cars, it's a blessing.

We don't have to love what we are doing, but whenever we have something to do, we should be thankful.  As Harry Connick, Jr. croons in Hear Me in the Harmony, "There's a whole lotta hard workin' people that could take my place."