Here we go ...Welcome to the first entry in the big, bad Daddy Hippopotamus’ blog. Over the last year I’ve read a number of different blogs and find this new means of communication odd and intimidating. I’ve read some interesting blogs and some that were asinine. Here’s hoping this falls into the former category ... but no promises.
Rather than making this a news page regarding what’s going on in my life and career (two topics that would bore you almost as much as they bore me) or an editorial on serious subjects in the world of politics or art, I’m simply going to write what’s on my mind from time to time. That means that I’ll be expressing opinions that may not always be popular. If you disagree with any opinion expressed in this blog ... well, la-te-da. Write your own blog declaring what an idiot I am.
Actors
I hate actors. Now, don’t go get yourself in an uproar. Chances are that, if you are reading this, you may very well be an actor. Most of the people I know are actors. Most of the folks who I truly love and respect are actors. This is not necessarily directed at you. By all means, I’m not grouping all actors into one big stereotyped grouping. I’m simply referring to those actors who refer to themselves as an actor and only an actor. You know the type. The folks who are "act-tors." The one’s who tend to forget that they are brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers ... people ... first and foremost. That’s right. The pretentious a**holes we all know and hate.
Here’s a true example. I will withhold names to protect the innocent. And by innocent, I mean "a**hole."
Earlier this year I attended a gathering of actors. A cast party, I believe, even though only a portion of the gathering had ever performed together. It was the end of a long and exhausting week. During that week I had been fighting the flu, worked a massive amount of overtime at my "real" job (more on that one day) as well as attended rehearsals for two different plays I was working on. I was dead on my feet. Exhausted. But, out of a sense of loyalty I showed up at this party. I figured I’d stop by, have a drink, say hello to everybody and then get out of there.
So, I’m sitting, enjoying a Jack and Coke and having a nice little conversation with an actress I had worked with earlier in the year. "Jeez, Rich. You look like hell. What’s a-matter with you?" she asks. (I love a girl with a good pick-up line!) I then explain to her how I’ve been sick and have simply over-extended myself with work and two plays. I’m not looking for sympathy, here, just stating the facts. In fact, I’m a little self-deprecating because I’m trying to stress how stupid it was of me to take on so much.
Suddenly, Exhibit A for the prosecution’s "A**hole Actor" case interrupts. "Oh, that’s nothing. I’m rehearsing three plays right now, and am in performances for a fourth." What? Is this some sort of competition? Is this a challenge? Am I supposed to be impressed? And who was talking to you in the first place? Does your ego need that much stroking?
I don’t stroke.
Now, let me make something very clear here. I have a huge ego myself. Massive. All actors do. It’s kind of embarrassing actually. My ego is so big that my landlord is threatening to double my rent. But, for crying out loud! Was I supposed to be impressed? Was I supposed to kneel down before the young god of off-off B’way? Never mind the fact that, if for no other reason than age, this guy hasn’t done half the work I have.
This guy is not even fit to carry my jockstrap. I’m not talking about a comparison of our abilities as actors, but simply in being a man. He’s a perfectly serviceable actor, but as a man he leaves something to be desired. And that’s where I develop a distaste for actors. I believe you have to be something more before you ever step out on that stage. I don’t need the stage to define who I am. I don’t need to take each and every role offered me to establish my own self-worth.
I can recognize that as an actor here in New York, I am one of the tiniest fish and a big, big pond.
I respect that. I’m way down low on the professional totem pole. And I have no patience for any little guppy down here with me who wants to pretend they are some giant whale.And speaking of whales, be sure to come see me in The Whales (with lots of other little fish trying to grow in this pond) in January. All the info you need to get tickets and such can be found on my website at http://www.babyhippopotamus.com -- check it out.
