Favorite Quotes

There is a lid for every pot.
--A lot of grandmothers

If you aren’t in the moment, you are either looking forward to uncertainty, or back to pain and regret.
--Jim Carrey

Be yourself. Everyone is already taken.
--Oscar Wilde

Never love anybody who treats you like you're ordinary.
--Oscar Wilde

We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
--T.S. Eliot

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
--Mark Twain

Part of the secret of a success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside.
--Mark Twain

We do not quit playing because we grow old, we grow old because we quit playing.
--Oliver Wendell Holmes

Well-makers lead the water (wherever they like); fletchers bend the arrow; carpenters bend a log of wood; wise people fashion themselves.
--Buddha (563 - 483 BC)

If men could only know each other, they would neither idolize nor hate. 
― Elbert Hubbard

Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.
--Mother Teresa

Luck Favors the Prepared
--Edna Mode in the movie The Incredibles or Louis Pasteur

When you think everything is someone else's fault, you will suffer a lot. When you realize that everything springs only from yourself, you will learn both peace and joy. 
--the Dalai Lama

Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.
--Malachy McCourt

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
--Rita Mae Brown

If you love somebody, if you love someone, 
If you love somebody, if you love someone set them free.
(Free, free, set them free.)
Set them free.
(Free, free, set them free.)
Set them fee.
(Free, free, set them free.)
Set them free.
(Free, free, set them free.)
--Sting

When people show you who they are, believe them the first time. 
--Maya Angelou

The picture you have in your mind of what you're about will come true.
--Robert Zimmerman

All my life, I have carefully studied normal people. All so I could pretend to be one.
--Bill Thomas

Respect yourself, your time and your feelings or no one else will.
--Bill Thomas

Rather than lament the father you didn't have, just be the dad you should have had.
--Bill Thomas

Smart Ass' Brush with Fame

I was taking a nap on a Saturday afternoon around 1990. The phone rang. I didn't have caller ID and didn't want to miss out on anything fun. I answered, and the caller said, "Is Bill Thomas available?" I groggily replied, "This is he." She said, "Do you know anyone named Maya?" I sarcastically replied, "Maya Angelou". To which she responded, "Oh, is this the fashion designer?" I realized by her positive reaction and unmistakable voice that I was actually speaking to Maya Angelou. I apologetically said, "No, this isn't that Bill Thomas." It turns out there was an Oscar-winning costume designer named Bill Thomas who she must have been looking for. #smartassbrushwithfame

Textnosis: The Hypnotic State While Texting

Textnosis: the hypnotic state while texting. Often Identified when the texter is in the "prayer" position--head bowed down with hands together on mobile cellular device while standing or seated. Other variations for textnosis identification include: The "prayer meeting" position, where the texter is seated and in the "prayer" position with hands and device out of the sightline of the meeting presenters. View of the texting act is hidden by another person or object, such as a table, so surreptitious texting can proceed without being called out by or disrespectful of the speakers. "Text walking" is akin to sleep walking as in the texter is completely in an hypnotic state while unconsciously walking. Adept "text walkers" have been known to both dodge through crowds and text without interrupting either the texting or walking activity. Poor text walkers have been known to lose limbs or die.

The Driven

You can tell by the way they drive.
You know you can tell so much about a person by how they drive.
You know what I mean?
It reveals their personality quirks.

Oh taxi, oh cabbie, no need to show your face.
I feel your being in the way you brake.
My captain, my squire, you stop and go.
Stop and dart.
See the world in fits and starts.
Between the beating, to my throat up goes my heart.

St. Christopher implores ye to flow.
The signals beckon ye to heed.
Amber beacons beg ye hasten or halt.
The clues are right before thine eyes.

If he'd just pay attention to the friggin' traffic lights.
I pay dearly for the sins of my family.
They drank and died and left me behind.
But I drive on as best I can,
While avoiding wearing down my pads.

Jesus Christ, he must fuckin' see nothing coming in his damn life.
Totally no insight!
Oh my God, you mean if I have sex without a condom, it makes babies?
Right Sparky!

My driver, my steed, the world is so much more
Than the self-imposed blockades of your mind's concrete moor.
Oh chauffer, oh cowboy, I can feel your pain.
It all resides in the way you rein.

Slowly traverse the road to see the life along the way.
Stop not in haste,
But travel the path's promise unseen in speed.
Travesty and triumph raced aside,
The journey need not be.

I think his life might change if he didn't ride the brake.
I wish my life would change.
I always travel at acceptable speeds
And appropriately obey the red.
I fantasize about going over the limit and then slamming on my brakes till they lock.
But I fear the ticket.

Egos dawdle on paths that others trod,
Heeding disparate sirens.
Lest ye all follow the lemmings' affront.
As death be the ultimate departure for which there is no brake.

Sangria

In a large wine glass or tall glass add:
2 oz. tequila
2 oz. pineapple juice or pineapple/mango juice
1 oz. peach snapps
Healthy splash orange juice
Splash of lemon juice

Fruit:
Squeeze and drop in lime wedge
1 orange sliced round or 2 slice halves
3 blueberries
2 halves of or 1 whole strawberry
1 raspberry
1 blackberry
Or other fruit such as pineapple,
watermelon, grapes or apples


Add ice to liquor, fruit and juice
Stir
Top with cold red wine, Cabernet Sauvignon is good
Slowly pour wine over metal spoon to layer juice/liquor/fruit and red wine

The layers are almost like 2 separate drinks that come together at some point.

Nelly Belly

Last night I attended a taping of CBS' "Home for the Holidays", an annual celebration of adoption for which my talented friend Gene Pack writes.

The show was star-studded. Mira Sorvino and the ladies of the new CBS show "The Talk"--Sharon Osborne, Julie Chen, Leah Remini, Holly Robinson Peete and Sara Gilbert--introduced pieces about adoption and the performers. Katie Perry, Ricky Martin, Melissa Etheridge, Maroon 5, and Nelly all sang.

During the latter half of the taping, Nelly came out, sang and went right out into the audience during his segment. When Nelly cruised by me singing full force with a hand-held camera operator capturing his every movement close up, Nelly PATTED MY STOMACH! In a panic and with a stupid smile on my face, I thought, "Don't look like it bothered you that Nelly patted your big fat stomach on national television." I think I ended up looking stupidly pleased when in fact I was horrified.

Nelly either needed a wider swath or he wanted some good luck by patting my Buddha-like belly. I'm afraid it was the former, and my stomach was partially impeding his forward motion.

This was only a one-take shot. I can only hope they use another faraway camera angle of that exact belly-patting moment when they broadcast the show. Forever after, this shall be referred to as the Nelly Belly incident.

By the way, did I mentioned I'm on a huge diet as of last night? And, no, I don't know when this will be broadcast and, if I did, do you think I'd encourage you to watch? That's a big N with an O!

Jesus Zone

Sometimes I feel like there are 2 different people living inside me. There’s one side of me is more austere and serious. I’m more pensive and I listen more. I study people. That looks like this. It’s my tabla rasa—blank slate face. With this face, people can see what they want to see and project their shit on me. I can see them for how they see me. I use this poker face most at work. I don’t want to broadcast how I really feel. I want to keep that hidden because, if I looked like I was thinking, I would be in big trouble. I’m frequently thinking people are full of shit or do you take me for a stupid shit?

I work with social workers. I learned early that the key word in social work is “appropriate”. This is my appropriate face. I keep it on so no one sees that I’m really crazy and wild.


Then there’s the other side. I like to think of it as the real me, though both sides are very real. This is the charmer. I am loud and talk a lot and laugh really loud. I’m a laugh whore. I like to make people laugh and talk nasty and be inappropriate.

At parties I can be quite the charmer. Hell, give me some alcohol and I’m completely endearing. This is the charmer, “Mary, how nice to see you!” Did you notice the smile? I made eye contact with her first. Then upon recognition, I smiled. I read about that in a self help book. The book called that the “Flooding Smile.” You make eye contact. Then when you recognize the person you “flood” them, and only them, with your smile. They feel the smile is only for them because there was the recognition, the one on one eye contact establishing an intimacy and then the smile just for them that gets bigger and bigger to validate them. Once I read that, I felt very manipulative, but I didn’t know about it before, and I’d always smiled like that. It was natural for me. I guess I’m naturally manipulative.

Oh, then there’s the eye thing called “Open Soul Eyes”. It looks like this. See how my eyebrows raise and my eyes open wider while I acknowledge the person one on one. It’s like I am opening my eyes wider so you can see in the windows to my soul--“Open Soul Eyes”…I just made that up. Hell, I can make up self help shit if I want.

What if I told you I was Jesus? Would you think I’m crazy? Would you think I had delusions of grandeur?

Well, I was Jesus.

My friend Elizabeth got cast in a one act in a night of one acts. When she told me, I immediately knew, that I would be in the one acts…sometimes I just know things. The auditions were over so I wasn’t sure how that could occur. One Saturday Elizabeth called frantically and said she found out that they were holding another audition session as we spoke. They would be over in about an hour. She gave me a number to set something up. I called immediately, and the person who answered said they just finished. They couldn’t wait for me to schlep up to Malibu. Again, I was surprised as I had this premonition I’d be in it.

Then another man called me a few days later. He told me he had written a one act and the actor he cast dropped out. He wondered if I was available. Oh yes, I was.

Then he said, “There’s one thing I should tell you about the role.”

“Yes?”

“The role is Jesus. Can you play that?”

Previously, my answer would have been, “No, I’m not right for that.” But for some reason, maybe the years of constant rejection from the acting world and the resulting increased armor, I said, “Yes, I can play early 30’s”. I couldn’t believe that came out of my mouth! Even though Jesus died at 34, I was in my 40’s! What was I thinking? Jesus doesn’t look like me! Jesus was thin like those heroin chic models. Look at me! Did I look like I ever missed a meal? No! Jesus was olive-complected. Look I have no melanin in my skin. I’m not just white, I’m translucent.

Somehow I had spontaneously in that moment developed instant chutzpah. I suddenly had such cajones that my big balls should drag on the floor as I walk tall.

I really didn’t know much about Jesus. I wasn’t paying much attention in Catechism during elementary school. I was just taking in the social scene. My CCD class was full of little hyper kids who couldn’t sit still to hear about Moses parting the Red Sea or the burning bush. I would focus on Jimmy Rodriguez a lot. He was trouble waiting to happen and the poster boy for ADHD. Simultaneously, I was fascinated by the nun’s medieval habits and snoods, her little beady eyes and octagonal wire frames. She was pale and less than plain. She had about 5 errant hairs growing out of obscure locations on her face; apparently plucking wild hairs was too vain for the Sisters.

I would just sit back and wait for the chaos to begin, all while being the unassuming catalyst. When the nun looked my way, I was paying rapt attention. When she looked out of my field, I was egging Jimmy Rodriguez on. Because any attention encouraged him out of his seat to head thump or spit ball his neighbor. My smallest smile or titter would wind him up like a top. Then I’d watch the final bit of rage overcome the childless Bride of Christ as she burst out screaming at Jimmy while spitting rants through the huge spaces between her teeth. She’d grab his hair pulling him about or swat his hand with a rule. Now that was entertainment! And why I know so little about Jesus.

So I showed up for Jesus rehearsal. The character would just wear black so I was an “acting” Jesus—representational Jesus. Okay, that sort of justifies my fat translucence.

The writer/director of the one act was the creator and producer of the “Dukes of Hazzard”. One of the 2 other actors played a motorcycle cop during the later years of CHiPs. On one hand, I was impressing myself. I would be Jesus on stage in Malibu, directed by the Duke of Hazzard guy and acting with a CHiPs cast alumnus. That was kind of cool for my mediocre acting career. Then on the other hand, I was playing Jesus. I was being directed by the creator/producer of the Dukes of Hazzard and acting with a guy from CHiPs? That’s both wonderful and extremely tacky at the same time.

During the first rehearsal the writer/director said, “You have been told this before I’m sure, but you have a natural frown. You need to be aware of that during the performance.”

I replied that I knew and that was great advice.

Actually, I didn’t know. I had the sudden epiphany that my poker face/tabla rasa was a defensive frown that I used to portray that you should not fuck with me. I will not tolerate your shit. All the crap I thought I was aptly covering up was right there up front when I frowned at everyone.

I immediately made an adjustment for the character. I didn’t suddenly start to grin wildly, but I made the lines of my frown turn up to neutral just before a grin like this. I also started to conscientiously upturn the frown in real life. It changed the way I felt about work, and people seemed a little more open to me.

It reminded me of how I smiled broadly at every opportunity when I got my braces off in 10th grade. For years, I had just a timid grin because I didn’t want to show my crooked teeth, teeth that my mother loved to describe as God having just thrown them into my mouth.

Anyway, I was nervous about doing a drama. I always did improv or sketch comedy. I’m a laugh whore. I want people to laugh at me. I had only performed in a drama once before. Another friend named Elisabeth got me to replace an actor who dropped out of a one act. Sound familiar? I performed it well enough for this one act play to progress to the semi-finals of this one-act play competition. Then for the semi-final round I decided I needed to punch up the part so I could get one little laugh. My psychiatrist character already knew the El Salvadoran woman patient had been brutally raped, but her character was unaware I knew. She claimed to have not been hurt at all ever. So during the pique of the one act, I circled Elisabeth. I dramatically paused, raised my eyebrows exaggeratedly and punched up this my piercing question, “No one touched you, Senora Garcia?” I got a couple laughs, but the play did not progress to the finals.

I learned my lesson. Don’t go for the laugh in a drama. Comedy is comedic and drama is dramatic.

So I persevered in my Jesus one act. I knew all my lines after just a couple rehearsals. I got my black outfit together. I knew all my intentions and subtext. I was ready.

So I did the one act the first night. Judas, the CHiPs guy, and the other apostle were going on and on about how Jesus was so angry when he overturned all the money changers’ baskets in the marketplace. Then I entered the stage behind them, took my mark and listened. I was centered and full of grace. I was in the Jesus Zone. I let the 2 apostles go on and on about how angry I (Jesus) was. I just looked at them with all the Jesus love I had. I continued on to remember my lines, staging, intentions and subtext. In fact, at one point, when Judas was questioning my ways, I looked at him with Jesus tolerance and a tear formed in my eyes because my subtext was that I knew that he would betray me. We finished the piece and I exited with my arm around one of the apostles.

I did it. I didn’t screw up.

I did the same thing the second night. I found the Jesus Zone. I found it again on the third night.

The final performance was a Sunday matinee. I was actually a bit confident. For this show though, I invited two of my best and most trustworthy and supportive friends. I’m not the type of actor who invites everyone and their mother to my performances. Sometimes if I think I won’t look completely idiotic, I will invite people who I know love and believe in me. I invited my friends Ellen and Libby. They both are always supportive of whatever I do.

There I was behind the scrim waiting to go on--centered, spiritual, Jesus like. Then I heard my cue. I entered the stage and planted myself to listen to the apostles. The Jesus love and understanding exuded from my countenance.

I was on the stage all of two seconds before the attentive crowd when I heard my two friends guffaw at me. They didn’t quietly laugh or snicker, the abruptly and simultaneously let out one joint “Ha!”. I know it was my friends. I know their laughs. Oh shit, what are they laughing at? Is my zipper open? Do I look stupid? I then proceeded to drop my first line. I don’t think the audience noticed, but the apostles and I did. We recovered. I got back on track. Jesus had his detractors, but he didn’t let it effect what was right, nor would I. I found the Jesus Zone again.

The one act was finally over as was my run. I didn’t completely ruin the last show. I survived. It was like I arose again from the dead after 3 days of performances just like Jesus.

After the show, I asked Libby and Ellen, “Why the hell did you laugh at me when I entered?” Their combined responses were something like, “We had never seen you act seriously before. When you came out all centered and focused and benevolent, it just caught us by surprise.”

Though I didn’t go for the laugh in this piece, they were just laughing because I’ve always been the big broad character actor. I had lived a life of being a laugh whore. At that performance the Laugh Whore found Jesus.

Ellen and Libby meant no harm. Part of Jesus had infused me. They know not what they do. I forgave them.

To this day, often I will be caught up in some discouraging situation, and I’ll just stand back from it for a second. I center myself; I upturn my mouth to almost a grim and enter the Jesus Zone.