Mood: energetic
Now Playing: Hey! (Hey!) You! (You!) Get off of my lawn!
Did you know that armadillos can carry leprosy?
I sort of wish I'd known that before agreeing to participate in a corporate armadillo race in Texas. Not that it really made any difference, since we wore gloves to handle them, and only a small percentage of armadillos are carriers, and it's really hard to contract leprosy anyway, since 95% of people aren't susceptible. But maybe I could have offered them spiritual counseling. I could have done more. So much more.
So, Andrew Fraser is next up for David. Ten hours: a prospect most pleasant to contemplate. Babies have been born and nuclear arms accords signed in less time that that. I have to admit, I never heard of Mr. Fraser, but he sounds like quite a juicy character, what with the prison time and heavy cocaine involvement. This marks a switch for David; his previous druggie characters have dabbled in smack, with its attendant lethargy and dim-wittedness. (Although Lenny, I guess, didn't use, he just pushed it). Cocaine strikes me as more of a hyper, glittery, energetic drug. Will this addiction color David's performance? Stay tuned.
I often wonder if it's easier or harder for actors to play actual people. With real people, especially ones who are well-known like Father Damien or Jerry Springer, there's the advantage of tons of source material. Books and photographs, mainly, but if there's archival TV or film footage, resources like YouTube make it easier to research the person's traits and mannerisms, and get at the character's essence. But I imagine it also limits how creative an actor can be in bringing the character to life. With a fictional character, a Johnny Spitieri or a Glen Owen Dodds, there's a lot of little details that can be invented, from clothing to gait to vocal inflections. It's so interesting to hear about a little outside quirk that David brings to a character, like Eddie Harnovey's plastic shopping bags, and I wonder if there's as much scope for deviation when portraying someone real. I suppose it depends on the internal rules of the film, and how closely it hews to authenticity. Harry Pierpont probably isn't going to sport an interesting digital watch unless you're doing a very loose, Frank Miller-ish interpretation.
So, while we wait for filming to wrap on this newest project of David's, we continue with our regularly scheduled lives. March is nearly half done, with its cordial, warm, but still oddly distant sun (was it something we said?) and its mean winds full of concealed hatpins and bees. But spring is on its way. The red-winged blackbirds are back, calling "ok-a-leeee" in the marshes, and yesterday, leaving work, an immature bald eagle glared at me from on top of the lamppost. That is, I was leaving work, not the bald eagle. (Dear me, we can't leave that participle dangling out there. After all, there's children and wimminfolk about.)
Speaking of spring, here's a free seasonal tax tip: Never be self-employed at four different jobs in two different states with a rolled over 401k, capital losses, and itemized deductions, unless you want your tax return to resemble a Russian novel. (Spoiler: at the end, my bank account throws itself under a train.) The instructions do make for pretty amusing reading, though. "If you had farm income, or were employed as a jazz dancer or pastry chef in the state of Minnesota, skip lines 37 - 41 and multiply by the lesser of 5% or the qualified amortization amount from Schedule K. If my name you wish to see, turn to page 103. If my name you cannot find, turn to page 109. Now stand on one leg and sing 'I'm A Little Teapot'."
Next year, I plan to deduct all funds spent on acquiring the complete DVD set of Killing Time. If I can get a doctor to write me a prescription for it, I can claim it as a medical expense.
Well, after all, I have been exposed to armadillos.