Our son has an audition this morning for a film role and headed downtown early. He headed in several hours before the audition and on the way there I said “Well it will give you time to run lines,” trying to sound all fatherly and up to speed with the acting profession to which I’ve had absolutely no exposure.
“It’s not that kind of audition.” Wait, what? It turns out not all auditions are like what we see on television which crushes me since my vision of life was formed by the light box in the corner of the living room and the stories it has told me. Oh well, I’ll get over it.
This type of audition starts with just the actor and director having a chat about life, the universe and everything perhaps even the number 42. Later they run lines from a script that the actor hasn’t seen with the actor being asked to do the lines of several characters. Our son tells me he’s done this type of audition before and it is, for him, his long suit. Cool.
As he got out of the van I wished him luck and then corrected myself with a “Break a leg.” Some days I am so cool, and with it, I give myself frostbite.
No word on the biopsy and MRI results yet. As ever, fingers crossed.