A New Year is a Continuation but With Hope

So, not much happening on the first day of 2024. New Year’s Eve was almost a total bust, except that I donated blood platelets for cancer patients. There are several kids with cancer in the children’s ward of the University Hospital here, so I was especially happy doing that if my donation goes to them. Tuesday, January 2, 2024, however, started with a ride to meet motorcycle buddies for breakfast. It was quite cold and a longer ride was not planned, but we had good conversation and good food at Jimmy’s Cafe. In the evening my in-person acting class was canceled and replaced with a Zoom meeting. I always enjoy the classes either way, since my classmates are quite interesting and range in style and age. Some are excellent actors and others are working to improve enough to get an acting job. Some write screenplays. One is an opera-trained singer in a superb classic rock band: 505 Unchained. One creates episodes of a show she calls Treasure Expeditions; she searches for treasure with a metal detector but also visits antique shops and historical houses. Her videos appear on Wire Ride TV, which is a channel produced by our acting coach and mentor, Steve Burhoe. I sometimes bring poetry to class.

On Wednesday I brought two recent spoken word pieces to a bar with a monthly event called Poetry and Beer. There is usually an Open Mic. Then there’s a Poetry Slam – a competition between poets for the approval of volunteer judges who score it like an Olympic event. Of late, there has been a cash prize for the top-scoring poets. Unfortunately, there weren’t enough non-poets in attendance to have judges, and the regular host hadn’t been able to attend. We had a substitute host and just had an open mike. It was glorious. We all had such a good time. The poets who planned to slam performed those poems, and a few were totally hilarious. There was a rule about doing only one thing at a time, but the rules ended up not being hard and fast. And there was music as well. Anything goes at an Open Mic. I had a lot of fun and two microbrewery stouts.

I received an audition opportunity, one I intend to do very well. It will be for a voiceover role. I can do that – everyone says I have a great voice for that. I have been working on it for days and had hoped to do it in class for some feedback, but the in-person acting class was canceled on Friday morning. I went out to breakfast instead. But, at 5 pm I attended a gallery show at a theater company’s place called Fusion. The art was way overpriced, but I don’t need any of that anyway. While there, I chatted with the woman staffing a kiosk of things to buy – books, small artworks, and games – things like that. I mentioned that I used to print and sell photos of mine. She offered me space in the kiosk for some small items I have, which is great because the two places I used to sell my prints closed permanently. So that’s good news.

Saturday was a fantastic day! I had performed in a short movie that had its premiere at a small theater and we packed the place. There were three shorts, and the one I was in was really funny – a parody of Popeye. I had some great lines that got some laughs, so I was elated. Afterward, we had a wrap party at the Slice Pizza place across the street. Today, Sunday, I attended a playwright’s Zoom meeting where new scripts are introduced and dissected. One of them was set in Ireland, and I loved the writing.

So that was my first week of 2024. This next year holds promise!

Tomorrow morning I will have professional help for my audition taping. I’m excited. Things are looking up after Covid, and after the writers’ and actors’ strikes, which left all of us without much to do. However, in acting class, I spent over six weeks working on a two-person play that my scene partner Abby and I performed. It is a Harold Pinter comedy sketch called Trouble in the Works (1959), with lots of tongue-twisters and sexual innuendos. My scene partner Abby was wonderful to work with. We got together often, in person or on video calls. Her drive to learn and excel, as well as her humor and creative spirit, were contagious and encouraging. On Christmas Eve we also delivered toys that had been purchased and wrapped by the Children’s Cancer Fund of New Mexico. We got them to the kids with cancer who are in University Hospital for the holidays. Their parents stay with them. I brought 24 delicious candy canes with me and ended up giving them to the parents, who looked so worn out. Abby arranged everything. She’s wonderful. She also just got appointed to the board of the Cancer Fund, so she’ll be doing lots more things like this.

Abby Max

Last month, I had planned to go with her and motorcyclist Santa David on December 11th to see some of the other children who were going to spend Christmas in the hospital, but I was scheduled to work on a film set. It was two days of background acting. I had to be on set by 7:30 am, so I had expected to get out early so I could go with them, but I worked 13 hours, well into the evening. However, that netted me enough money for acting classes, and I still got to go on Christmas Eve, and Abby got the overworked Santa Doug to come with us.

Life is good again.

My Blood Was the Wrong Color

William Shakespeare wrote: “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” Yes, yes we do. There’s a song called, “We all bleed the same,” by Mandisa, featuring TobyMac and Kirk Franklin. It’s a great song, but I bring it up because it speaks to the idea that we’re all the same inside. Here’s the song, if you’re not familiar with it (but you should be):

Here’s another great song along the same lines, country, if you’re into that:

Anyway, that’s not what this post is about. The internet can be so distracting! The only point I wanted to make is that I grew up believing this: that we all bleed the same color.

We can’t be that different from one another, if, underneath our skin, we’re all the same.

So, I donate blood platelets. There is a critical NEED for blood platelets right now, a shortage. There are not enough donors. If you can, please consider donating platelets. It takes between 1 1/2 to two hours, but please think about it. Cancer patients especially need it.

Today, I was all set to donate blood platelets. I had brought my sides for another audition I have in two days. I’ve had a lot of auditions lately. I made a tape of the lines, and had my script too, so I was going to spend the next two hours working on that. BUT, just as blood started flowing out of my my arm, the technician stared at it, and said: “It’s the wrong color!” Whaaaaat? I thought. The donation equipment (a bit more complicated than for the regular whole blood donation) shows a lot of information on a large computer screen. Color is one of the things monitored by this equipment. So, in addition to the much lighter, brighter color of red coming from my body, the computer was noisily flagging the problem. As it turns out – and I and the technicians had never seen it before – that color means they’ve hit an artery. It flows much faster, hence the lighter color red. I can’t describe the color exactly, but it’s bright, and somewhere on the large spectrum between dark red and pink.

So, that killed the whole donation process. If you can donate blood platelets today, please do so to replace what I wasn’t able to donate. Or soon anyway.

Once I was disconnected, Candice, the tech, put gauze on the puncture as usual, all the time saying she didn’t think she hit an artery, that she never had before. Candice was really appalled that she might have done that. She was hoping she hadn’t, but the computer had flagged the whole donation, so they had to disconnect me and throw everything away. Not much blood was lost, just what was in the long coil of tubing. So, Candice had me put pressure on the spot while she did other things. But, right away, I noticed blood seeping right through the thick gauze, a lot of blood. So, it looked like she had indeed gotten an artery. I felt bad for her. She kept apologizing, but hey, shit happens. I wasn’t worried about it, just regretted that I couldn’t donate platelets today, in fact not for several days. Again – donate platelets in my place if you can. (If you are in the Albuquerque area go to the main blood services center on University Blvd near Indian School Rd.) Tell ’em Terry sent you, or Robert. Legally, my first name is actually Robert, so that’s what’s in their system.

Candice got more gauze and put a lot of pressure on the tiny hole in my arm for 15 minutes. After that, the bleeding had stopped, but she put fresh gauze on, along with strapping a large cold pack over that. I will need to put cold packs on today for a while and be alert for my fingers turning black or blue. Maybe purple?

Anyway, Candice gave me extra cold packs, a couple of warm packs, and more gauze and tape. As I sit here, I have a cold pack taped to my arm, It’s great this way – I can walk around and do things with both arms. Of course, as with any blood donation, I need to keep it wrapped for four hours, and not do any heavy lifting, or use my arm for anything strenuous. I usually don’t need to apply cold or hot packs, but this time I do, mostly to prevent bruising, which is a given considering the large swollen bump on my arm. That happened because, when applying pressure to fast-bleeding wounds, the blood goes where it can, which is under the skin. If it is bruised tonight or tomorrow, I’ll use the hot packs.

So a little adventure today, from a commonplace procedure. A micro-adventure?

And it was nice to meet Candice.

Time to stop procrastinating, and work on the audition (if selected, I will be a character who gets punched in the face, killed, and stuffed in a trunk).

Sounds like fun.

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UPDATES: Sept. 22, 2022

I did indeed develop a bruise from the artery puncture. Colorful, but not painful. There is, after a week, a small nodule under the skin, in the muscle where the needle stick was. Scar tissue, I think. It’s hard, but will push down into the muscle when I press on it. However, I went back Monday, the 19th, and completed a full platelet donation (in the other arm!).

I did not get a part in the small film I mentioned auditioning for. They did ask if I’d be willing to be an extra, But I do less background-extra work these days, and only for money, not for free.

Some Minor Plumbing, A Party, & Indian Market

So, today, I was inspired to fix the steadily decreasing flow of hot water in my bathroom sink. There was a good flow in the bathtub, and in the kitchen. The connections underneath the sink had leaked years ago, leaving the brass fittings corroded green. It looked awful under there, so I took all of the plumbing for the hot water apart, including the flexible supply line to the faucet, which broke when I tried to remove it. It was a bitch getting the shut-off valve off from the fitting on the copper pipe coming from the wall. First I shut off the main hot water line, but, for safety, shut off the separate cold water feed line. Where I live we get hot water from a community boiler, which is used as both hot water and for heating. Both valves (common globe valves, which I drew in mechanical drawing classes in high school), were hard to close so I had to use a pipe wrench to turn them.

After I had removed all of the connections I biked down to the hardware store to figure out what I needed. For some reason, whoever had installed or replaced the connections had added extra parts from the faucet which only extended the length. Made no sense. I only needed a new faucet supply line and a new shut-off valve. ($18) It took hours to get it all done. When I turned the water back on, I found that the hot water still wasn’t flowing more than before – a very weak stream. So, back to the drawing board. I took the faucet apart to remove the valve stem. The stem looked clean, but I rinsed it out as best I could. It hadn’t looked clogged at all. I had been anticipating buying another one, but I put it back in. The hot water flowed freely after that. When I turned the cold water faucet on, a whole lot of crud came out, rust and dirt and such – very discolored water – but it all cleared up. The tap filter on the output of the tap suddenly filled with tiny bits of stones (probably calcium and other hard water minerals we have in our tap water).

So, hurrah! Problem solved, and I finally got rid of those old corroded connections underneath.

I had been ignoring the problem until I had a guest, and I had to explain that I had been putting off repairs because I suspected the work would not be simple, and I had been incredibly busy with things I found more important. My guest was fine with that and used the kitchen sink to wash up, but today was the first chance I’d had since she left this past Sunday. She is from Arizona, an old friend.

This past weekend we had traveled to Santa Fe on the lovely “Railrunner” train that runs from Los Lunes to Santa Fe. $3.50 round trip for the two of us the first day, but we missed it the next day and had to drive up. She had rented a car so she drove. It was nice to be in Santa Fe again. Indian Market is an annual event that had been postponed for the last two years. This year was the biggest I’d ever seen. The booths stretched from the plaza, north for half a mile at least, and up and down side streets.

George R.R. Martin’s Train

All of the galleries in and near the Plaza in Santa Fe were open, providing enticing food, drinks, and demos of art in progress to entice the thousands of visitors into their shops. I had already filled up on a Frito Pie from the original Five and Dime store on the Plaza, which is where Frito Pies were invented: beans, ground meat, red chile sauce, and Fritos, all served in the Frito’s bag itself. I never miss getting one when I’m in Santa Fe. The best thing is that the Häagen-Dazs shop is close by, so I cool off my mouth with a scoop of coffee ice cream after my Frito Pie. Frito Lay, of course, was initially upset that their name had been used without permission, and had sued the little drugstore for using their name, but it all got settled years ago. Hell, around here, you can get a Frito Pie almost everywhere, so that’s a lot of Frito’s Corn Chips that people need for those. Good business for Frito Lay.

Anyway, we walked and walked and gawked at all of the fancy sculptures, paintings, jewelry, and such that show up at Indian Market. There was a pottery sculpture of a dragon-like creature on display in a shop for $13,500. Other pottery goes for thousands as well, especially of the famous potter Maria Martinez, who died in 1980, but her pottery is always around. The artwork in Santa Fe is some of the most expensive that I have ever seen. Antique sculpture, pottery, and rugs fetch a pretty penny in Santa Fe. It is a popular destination for people around the world, so that stuff sells, as well as western clothing, hats, belts, and boots.

I have to admit I got in the buying spirit myself. I avoid buying anything in Santa Fe besides the Frito Pies and ice cream, but I had recently lost a good Panama straw hat to high winds on a movie set. Someone crushed it by stepping on it to stop it from rolling away! I managed to buy a Beaver Brand straw cowboy hat at an estate sale a month ago for $10, but it is a little big and cowboyish to wear around town. The Beaver Brand Hat company has gone out of business, so it seemed like a deal I couldn’t pass up at the time. Here’s what it looks like:

Beaver Brand hat

So, while in Santa Fe, I bought another hat. It is black and made of wool. My friend kept saying how good it looked, so the next day I went back to the store and bought it. I don’t usually care for style. I like hats that keep my head warm or keep the sun off of my face but got the hat anyway. In my defense, it is water resistant, and not too hot to wear during the change of seasons. I think it will do nicely through most of the winter here in the Southwest as well. And, IT’S ADJUSTABLE with a string inside. Here ’tis:

It looks better in person – my mirror is not very clean, and the shadows suck.

I often need to bring a choice of hats to movie sets.

So Indian Market over, I had things to do this week before I could get the sink fixed. Monday morning I was off to the public library downtown, where I was to meet a writer/moviemaker who is putting a radio program together for a podcast. We had already done this, with another actor, but I was too far from the microphone the whole time, so my voice needed to be redone. It’s a good role. I play a nasty villain, and I had to put myself in character for that. We got it done. For once, I didn’t need a hat! The sound is good. The other actor’s voices are recorded, and the writer/director has a truckload of sound effects, a good audio editing program, and a really good script. We’ll see how it goes. I certainly enjoyed the experience.

Yesterday I joined my motorcycle buddies for breakfast in Los Lunes, after which a few of us went for a longer ride. We rode through beautiful country, on side roads, through small towns, country roads, and lots of empty desert, under mostly blue sky with a bunch of fluffy white clouds in it. It had been raining every day, and parts of northern New Mexico that had been on fire got soaked, and there was some flooding along the burn scars. We were lucky and got treated to a glorious day and a great ride with a cool wind.

For the previous two weeks, I’d been memorizing audition roles. I had someone tape one in which I had to do two completely different takes of the same scene. I feel pretty good about my work on that one. No word yet, but that’s normal.

After that, I had to do a self-tape to audition for a healthcare commercial. It involved lines from multiple characters. It seemed like there was to be humor involved, from my interpretation of the scripted lines, so I improvised what I thought went along with the script and was funny. I even added some physical humor. I was really happy with the results. I hope to hear from them. Meanwhile, I have an audition upcoming that’s due in early September – I usually don’t get so much time in advance, but it gave me time to do other things, like a birthday party dinner with people I know in the movie business, a poetry slam competition, getting estimates for dental work, and all the other stuff I’ve already talked about.

Which reminds me – I’d better find that other script and get working on it. They are giving me time to be creative, so I’d better do some thinking about this and create a few different takes on it. The sooner I get that submitted, the better. Then there will be more to do.

Steal Away Is an Incredible True Story About to Be Brought to Life

Steal Away is the true story of Ella Sheppard and the Fisk Jubilee Singers, a choir of young former slaves. It is based closely on Andrew Ward’s heroic chronicle: Dark Midnight When I Rise. As they seek the right to an education, for the right of everyone to seek an education, they become targets of rabid KKK terrorism against all such schools. Although they and their school are physically attacked with bullets and bombs, the choir respond with powerful, deeply-moving songs of faith and freedom. Steal Away follows the choir’s impressively shocking rise from the inhuman depths of slavery to the ballrooms and throne rooms of Europe as they conquer the world. But they must also conquer their own personal demons. It has been said that Dark Midnight When I Rise is one of the most breathtaking and timeless true stories ever told.

Although not yet in production, Steal Away is still auditioning actors and crew, processing auditions, and raising funds and awareness of this awesome production. I will do my best to help. I am one of the thousands applying for a role in this production.

Here’s a video by Steven Blake, Steal Away’s producer: About the movie.

The character that I have applied for is Milo Cravath. Cravath’s parents were abolitionists and part of the Underground Railroad. The Underground Railroad was a network of people, African American as well as white, offering shelter and aid to enslaved people from the South. It developed as a convergence of several different clandestine efforts. The exact dates of its existence are not known, but it operated from the late 18th century to the Civil War, at which point its efforts continued to undermine the Confederacy in a less-secretive fashion.

Erastus Milo Cravath was a hawkish, militant civil rights crusader, the fearsome Director of the American Missionary Association. Cravath’s lifelong war against Southern supremacists and their armies of terror has shaped him into a merciless war hawk that some liken to Genghis Khan. But though a legendary enemy of racial oppression, Cravath’s hard-charging, take-no-prisoners crusade cruelly enslaves the African-American choir touring for his cause, making Cravath resemble the very enemy he’s fighting. Notoriously unsentimental, Cravath’s intensive eyes and moving backstory might tell a far deeper story.

Here are my auditions, somewhat hurried, one of which is unprofessionally self-recorded, but both are heartfelt:

Audition 1, Cravath defends himself (on TikTok)

Audition 2, Cravath goes off the rails, losing it. (also on TikTok)

I’d love to hear your reactions. I hope for a callback at some point, which will allow me to polish these rough performances and add different takes on this complicated character.

Reverend Erastus Milo Cravath was a pastor and American Missionary Association (AMA) official who after the American Civil War, helped found Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee, and numerous other historically black colleges in Georgia and Tennessee for the education of freedmen. He also served as president of Fisk University for more than 20 years. (from Wikipedia).

Queen Victoria was so moved by the Jubilee Singers that she commissioned this portrait of them in 1874:

@stealawaymovie