To be an actor is to be, at heart, a liar. Not necessarily a good liar. In fact, the best actors never speak one word of a lie. He or she will take that character and become one with them, so that every word said and action done is 100% them. The lie is much more basic than words on a page, more internal. When a young stalwart picks up a script and constructs a character to play, that character becomes a part of the actor's personae, or arsenal. It can be called upon at any time, for any situation, to be used in any script. With enough practice, it moves effortlessly, swift and soundless like a katana pulled from its scabbard and swung to engage its target, then connecting and returning to scabbard, nary to sound louder than a whisper. But here's the thing: there is no katana. There is no scabbard, no engaging, no whisper. It's a character. What comes off as a grandiose flash of steel and a expertly-driven deathblow really boils down to a good story and a change of point of view. The character itself is the lie. This is an issue I've been wrestling with for most of my life. I don't pretend to be anywhere near the upper eschelon of thespians, but I can't hide my passion and training. I live to make people smile. Stop by while I'm at work or simply catch me in a good mood and you're in for a show. I love to play with people, whether they know it or not. In fact, most times it's double the fun to play with those who don't suspect anything. Their unscripted reaction, drop-dead perfect comedy timing, and even those jokes that stink up the room as soon as I say them are priceless and amaze me every time. Any moment was a moment to have fun and act out, to play. It was the kind of behavior that prompted my first girlfriend, Kari, to dub me the title of "always on stage". However, not everyone is in on the joke. It's amazing just how fast the practice of acting with unsuspecting people does wonders to drop your credibility like a concrete glider. "Is he kidding?" "I can never tell if you're serious or not." It got so bad that I could sit down with someone with a face as sullen as a gargoyle, humorless and dry, a vocal tone as even and neutral as possible, and I could still elicit laughter from the target of my humility. When I was dating Michaela she worked hard to push honesty in our relationship. In so many words, she said that if we can't be honest with each other, then we as a couple won't get anywhere. It was something I worked very hard on and still do. I admit, at the onset of us dating, I wasn't as cooperative. Not that I would outright lie straight-faced to her (only once, and that was when I told her I went to a Flogging Molly concert when in fact I spent the evening in "alone time", watching Kerry and Bush debate). I would tell the truth, just not all of it. When asked if I had been drinking a lot, I would tell her only one night a week, when in reality it was three or so. But, she's a sharp girl. She knew. And she pushed me. She called me out on things so many times that it became easier to just tell her the damn truth about everything I was doing to avoid all the hassle behind figuring it out. In fact, it became even easier to just avoid all those damn things she would question me about so that the truth was not only the actual truth but also the right thing to say. And it worked. It kept me clean and honest. And now that Michaela's not with me anymore I'm more honest than I have been in my life. Being so open and honest may leave me scared and vulnerable but it also leaves me with nothing to hide, which gives me strength. Going to therapy and documenting my life here only reflects all that. I can sit down with anyone and regale all the highs and lows of my life. I've been journaling for years so I can give you minute details about my hemp-hazed days in Vancouver. Although I've conjured up hundreds of stories to glorify the scars on my shoulders, I have never failed to confess that they were placed there myself. And I could tell you the multiple reasons why I did it. Thing is, who wants to hear? As soon as you let go of your truth it ceases to remain yours and becomes a shared truth. And from what I've noticed, not everyone is ready to receive what is given to them. Like a joke unleashed on an unprimed and unsuspecting audience, even something as righteous and desirable as the truth can have the exact opposite effect. I tell of my past abusing weed and razors to demonstrate how much I've progressed in the years since, that I danced close the precipice and retained enough common sense to stop and return to safety, and the initial reaction to people who don't know me (and even some who have for years) tends to sway to fear and concern. "Are you okay?" "What if you relapse?" Most times it's not met with any kind of comment but more with a cautious discerning look or simply being ignored, a heavy air of discomfort filling the room. The things I do to keep us closer together only work to drive deeper that initial wedge between us. It's not that people are wishy-washy about the truth. Everyone who wants to be cared for wants to be spoken honestly to. It's just that we always want the truth to resonate positively, to drive down the walls of doubt and let beauty shine through. And when the truth bares its fangs and takes a chunk of our innocence away we become skittish and confused, not understanding until much later that although we felt weak and stupid in the face of it, we were actually learning what it takes to have maturity. You have to be cruel to be kind, in the right measure. Besides, there's something to be said for simple deception. Suspension of disbelief is the cornerstone for all games of imagination. Would Kermit the Frog be half as cuddly and cute if we could see through to Jim Henson's gnarled hairy knuckles? And how much does it suck when a bad magician knocks over his table so you can see the rabbit hidden in a box under his hat? Everyone loves looking at naked people, but if everyone's got their goods hanging out for all to see, then how do we fantasize about each other (not to mention the detrimental effects it would have on the fashion industry)? Even religion, something that people live, love, fight, and die for, has its basis in placing your beliefs in that which has no tangible basis. The truth is not meant for every situation in every moment in everyone's life. Sure, if you want to live a sober "wysiwyg" experience, the truth and only the truth will suffice. But for those of us who have lyrics in our hearts, a daydream stuck in our crania, and the insane feeling that what's inside us is bigger than all outdoors, we need something other than the truth to keep us going. Wouldn't want to call it a "lie"; that's too harsh. It actually is our truth, just not all of it. The ugly parts are simply replaced with what we wish our lives to be.

Those of you who know me well may perhaps know this about me, but for those of you who don't know me well, allow me to elucidate you with a bit of backstory. I have become more and more interested in Eastern philosophy in the past couple years, learning Taoism and Buddhism on my own. The bracelet I wear on my left wrist is not a fashion statement but a Buddhist prayer rosary, a mala. My meditation practice has progressed from at first trying in vain to sit still for five minutes to a half-hour ritual with chimes, incense, and breathing exercise. I decided to put myself on a plan to learn the seven chakras, one chakra a year for seven years, and try to filter my life that whole year through that chakra. I started this in 2002 on New Year's Day. Every year I would buy a new mala with beads made from stones which reverberated the same energy level as the chakra I was focusing on. Every time a mala broke, I would collect as many beads as possible and save them, then buy another mala with the next stone. Then I would reconfigure the mala using old and new stones, combining chakras and energy levels, changing flow from one center to another, and telling the story of my progression. The mala around my wrist is, quite honestly, the best journal of my path. I mention all this because this year is the 6th year of my 7-year plan. Year Indigo, the Third Eye. Where the Root chakra spouts out primal energy and has you clawing at life for a foothold, this flows into Passion and allowing the self to enjoy their methods and desires. Year three has the self looking at its reflection and accepting it, warts and all. Then the Heart chakra blossoms and shows to you that everything in this world, no matter how small, insignificant, or ugly it seems, is your equal and should be treated as such. 5th year, the Blue year, motivates you to share this knowledge with others, to teach, learn, grow together. Indigo is all about foresight. Like a chess grandmaster, you have to look at the choices and options like pieces and figure out where they will lead you. Consequences, results... these are the lessons to be learned. I have to say, of all the chakra years I have gone through, this one has been, by far, the luckiest for my professional career. The plays I made in the past came to fruition with wonderful results. Now, however, a situation arises with which, I am lucky either way, but the ramifications of each decision plagues my head. I landed this position at Saks Fifth Avenue and its presentation was nothing short of a godsend. From barista to junior executive in less than a month's time. The company really has taken a liking to me and my boss has seen fit to make a strong investment in me, flying me to Troy, Michigan two Fridays ago for in-store training. Thing is, I'm starting at the bottom of a massive uphill climb. I'm literally taking three full-time positions in the running of a Saks store and attempting to turn it into only one. The job pays well, but already I know I should've held out for more money. It's a great entry-level position, but I know their sights are to put me into the executive track, taking on an HR Manager position or some other middle-management title as a decoration on an illustrious career plan. It's safe and secure, it promises success, but I don't know if it's right for me. On the other hand, I did some research online and found out Blue Man Group auditions are coming up in two months. Now this is one of my dream jobs and was one of my most successful tragedies of last year. I'm not auditioning for gigs this year, but this one begs to be an exception. I know I can get this. In my heart of hearts I know I can get this. There are few people out there who are as well-prepared mentally, physically, and emotionally, to perform as a Blue Man as I am. I will get this part. It's all just a matter of time and persistence. But, this means come Fall I'll be gone, off to New York for weeks of training and then relocated to who-know's-where. Plus, the pay won't be as well and it's doubtful there'll be any insurance. There's very little career advancement as a Blue Man, and who knows if I'll want to keep with this job for more than one season? Where Saks has too many hard-ended decisions, Blue Man offers too many open-ended opportunities. But working with Blue Man Group is the chance of a lifetime! On split impulse there is no other place I'd rather be in this world than waiting backstage to start the show drenched in blue grease paint and banging on any inanimate thing with sticks. Plus, I am truly win-win because, should for some reason I don't get chosen this year, I still have the Saks corporate track to keep me afloat. But how good would that sit with me? It boggles my forehead. I've already started training for Blue Man auditions. I plan to go ahead with it. I just hope I'm doing the right thing, and not just for right now, but for what is truly ultimately right.

Well it would've been, could've been worse than you would ever know. / Oh the dashboard melted but we still have the radio. / Oh it would've been, should've been worse than you would ever know. / Well you told me 'bout nowhere well it sounds like some place I'd like to go. / Oh it could've been, should've been worse than you would ever know. / Oh the windshield was broken but I love the fresh air, you know. / Well it would've been, could've been worse than you would ever know. / Well you talked about nothing which was more than I wanted to know-oh-oh-oh-oh. Now here we go! / (Instrumental break) / Well it would've been, could've been worse than it had ever gone. / Well the car was on blocks but I was already where I want. / Why should we ever even ever even really get to know? / Oh if the world don't like us it'll shake us just like we were a cold-oh-oh-oh-oh. Now here we go! / Well we schemed and we schemed but would always blow it / We've yet to crash but we still might as well tow it / Standin' at a light switch, to each east and west horizon. / Every dawn one yells, "Surprise!", and in the evening one's consolin' / sayin', "See, it wasn't quite as bad as IT COULD'VE BEEN!" / Well it would've been, could've been worse than you would ever know / I was patiently erasing and recording the wrong episodes / After you had proved my point wrong it wasn't like I would let it go. / Oh, oh-oh-oh-oh. Oh, oh-oh-oh-oh / I just wanted to catch the last laugh of this show / (Instrumental break) / Well it would've been, could've been worse than you would ever know. / Oh the dashboard melted but we still have the radio / Hardwired to conceive so much we had to stow it / Even needs have needs, tiny giants made out of tinier giants / Cut off our eyelids so we don't miss a second of the show. / Well it would've been, could've been worse than you would ever know / Well you told me 'bout nowhere well it sounds like someplace I'd like to go-oh-oh-oh-oh. Now here we go! / Well we schemed and we schemed but would always blow it / We've yet to crash but we still might as well tow it / Standin' at a light switch at each east and west horizon / Every dawn one yells, "Surprise!", and in the evening one's consolin' / Sayin', "See, it wasn't quite as bad as IT COULD'VE BEEN!" / Well it would've been, could've been worse than you would ever know!

This story's almost a week late, so I'll skip on the pleasantries. Last Wednesday my friend Barkme and I sought out an open mic night in Wilmette right close to the downtown area. Small crowd, mostly musicians, but Barkme's got poetry and I'm a monologuist, so we really got nothing to lose. Got up on stage, said my piece about the show I'm writing, then dove in to my construction worker monologue. For those of you who don't know, the story is about a construction worker who saves a kid from running into traffic and is caught on tape by a news team, which unwittingly elevates him to the level of local celebrity. As I was done, a man from the back of the room asks what my deal is. I repeat the whole deal about the show I'm writing, and he introduces himself as proprietor of the coffee shop. He mentions that another one-person show is going on currently in the space and that he'd like more, and would I be interested in putting my show up there. He says the shop can hold about 50-60 people, it's a small stage, we can make a deal for money taken at the door, and the publicity I will have to take upon myself. Most importantly, he wants more readers and acts like that at his shop. I was flabbergasted. I was offered a venue. He says he's got openings either this summer or next year. So yeah. That's what happened last week. Me, I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I figure I got about three months to finish writing a preliminary version of the show to go up at this coffee shop. Good, bad, ugly, whatever. The performances at the shop will be good experimental grounds to try new material and whatnot. Plus, Barkme got good reception with his spoken word. I've asked him to come along with me on this. It'll ease me from the pressure of filling 60 minutes on my own and it'll give him some exposure as well. Serendipity and completion, all in the same day.

Confucious was walking down a dirt road near the Yangze River when he was identified by a young man. "Confucius!", the young man yelled and ran up to his side. "Confucius! It is known all over the land that you are a wise man! I am honored to be in your presence!" Confucius smiled. "Is it true," the young man interrupted, "that the Emperor offered you a place on his court?" Confucius nodded. "Why? Why didn't you take the place? I would give my life to live at the palace!" The young man's face wrinkled into a mask of upset. Confucius took the young man down by the bank of the river and sat him down under a tree. "Do you see that turtle there?", Confucius asked. The young man craned his neck to catch sight of a small green turtle wading away in the shallow silt. "Yes. So?" "Have you heard that the Emperor keeps a pet on his court, a large, magnificent turtle whom he adorns with gold trinkets and silken pillows?" The young man's eyes widened with awe. "Yes. I have heard that. He is the luckiest turtle." "If you were a turtle and you had a choice, would you prefer to be dead in the palace or alive in the mud?" "Why, I'd prefer to be alive in the mud." Confucius nodded once and smiled. "I, too, prefer the mud." Confucius stood up and continued down his path. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A man lived in a coastal town and one day the town was overrun by a horrible rainstorm. The floodgates burst open and the man found himself hanging for dear life onto a plank of wood amidst a sea of water. "I will fear not", the man said to himself, "for God will save me." A tugboat scurried up to the man. "Swim over here! We can save you!", said the people on the tugboat. "It's alright," the man waved them away. "God will save me." Moments later, a dinghy rowed by. "Swim over here! Let us save you!", cried the people in the dinghy. The man continued to tread water. "There is no problem. God will save me!" A few minutes after the dinghy rowed away, a helicopter swooped down near the man. "PLEASE MOVE OVER TO THE LIVE PRESERVER.", yelled the man with the bullhorn. "WE ARE GOING TO SAVE YOU." The man kept his position. "Thanks, but no thanks. I have faith that God will save me. Thank you." The helicopter took off and flew away without the man. Two days later the man felt his arms go numb and let go of his plank of wood to slip into the waters below. He awoke in heaven in the presence of God. "God," the man pleaded, "you saw me struggle for over two days and you did not come to save me! I have been faithful and true and righteous! Why did you not come to save me?" "You fool!", God rumbled. "I sent you a tugboat, a dinghy, and a helicopter!"