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.
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.
