When I was about 13 years old, in junior high school, my best friend Paula was a teen model. At the time, Paula was on the cover of every teen magazine on the stands. She was a natural beauty, tall, skinny, crystal blue eyes, and long plush sandy blonde hair, perfect ivory complexion; if her mother was any indication as to Paula's future appearance, men would be fighting over Paula for the rest of her life.
One day after school, Paula and I were in her kitchen making chocolate chip cookies, and with a handful of cookie dough Paula very casually mentioned, "You should go into modeling. I have photographers. I'll set up a shoot." But I brushed off the idea. I didn't look anything like Paula. I just thought she was crazy. After that day in her kitchen, Paula brought up modeling a few other times but I ignored her, always changing the subject.
One summer afternoon, when I was 18 years old, and on my way to the neighborhood lake, I cut through a park that had picnic tables, a baseball diamond, tennis courts, playground for the kids, and happened upon a photographer shooting a few girls posed on a park bench. When he saw me walking through the park, he gave me his card and said he'd love to shoot me some time. His card said he was a photographer from a Minneapolis modeling school. I immediately thought of Paula.
One thing lead to another (boring details really) seasons changed and there I was sitting in an office at the modeling school talking to a representative. It was a brief meeting. Very brief. "You're a pretty girl," the Rep said, "but I'm going to be honest with you, most models are approximately 5'6... " and I'm barely over 5'1. etc.. The Rep continued to measure out and compare every inch of my body, hair color, eye color, ethnicity, and then proceeded to tell me what was wrong with everything.
"However," the Rep said, "do you have any interest acting?"
I never considered acting. Ever. So no.
"I can get you work if you're interested in acting... " the Rep went on to say, and then went into detail about acting school, and how they would pay for acting school provided I signed a contract that would make her my agent with a (I forget now how much) agent fee, etc..
In regards to acting in front of a camera;
It is a true art form to make me believe you, to put me in the room with you. I love it. I grew up in the political arena, I don't believe anyone. Born a cynic. "The world is a vile disease infested factory of soulless wretches!" I love going to the movies. Alone or with friends, going to the movies is one of my favorite things to do. I'm just so engrossed in the whole movie experience. Acting is a talent I've come to appreciate more than I can express. Unfortunately for me, being in front of the camera to perform, I just felt so disconnected.
Withal, I dabbled in "acting" for a year. Infomercials. Home security system. It wasn't for me. I have no interest in acting. None. Which is good since I'm horrible at it. I would go on auditions, read, people seemed to like me, but once I got directly in front of the camera I couldn't do it anymore. Later on I would come to understand a mental block that prevents me from performing well if I can't physically see who I'm performing for. I need to see your face, make eye contact, hear your voice, sense what you're feeling and watch you move. Sharing written stories is a meeting of the mind, but in person, I want that connection. I want to interact with you. Among you. I want to share energy with you, action, reaction.
When the year "I tried to act" was over, I moved to San Francisco. But I learned a lot from what little experience I gained. Up until then, I was solely a pupil and pursuant of fine art in this one creative world; with the few people I encountered in this other creative world, I was introduced to personalities I had never met before. People like to assume that art only has one path, one scene, one personality. So not true. So, so not true!
I never saw that photographer from the park again.
[His real name is not Glenn Anderson. Not even close. I just like the way the name sounds.]
I met Glenn Anderson a year or so after I moved to Los Angeles. I was in my early 20's. I suspect Glenn was in his late 30's. He was a director with the Guild, or so he said. He shot commercials mostly. A few independent films.
We met at a café. I was eating lunch, by myself, reading an art magazine. Glenn walked over to my table and asked if I was an actress. To which I replied, "No" without even looking up from my magazine. He then joked how that pick up line usually works for him. I continued to ignore him hoping he would go away. He seemed upset and asked, "Well, if you're not an actress what brings you to Hollywood?"
What brings me to Hollywood? I wanted to punch this guy in the nose. Maybe I grew up in Hollywood, ever think of that? (I grew up in Minnesota, but that's not the point.) Semi-fresh off the farm from small town USA I didn't realize it was customary to greet one another by career title. Had this guy simply said, "Hello. I saw you from my table and wanted to introduce myself... " I would have been friendly. Smiled. Invited him to sit down for a few minutes to chat, even if I didn't want the company. Sincerity, no matter how small, will at least get you my attention.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude but I'm in the middle of lunch, if you have a card or something I can call you sometime." I said with no intention of ever calling him.
To my surprise he gave me his card. Glenn Anderson, Creative Director. After handing me his card I looked up at him. Clean cut. Handsome. Nicely dressed. We briefly introduced ourselves, shook hands, smiled at each other, wished each other a nice day, and then he walked away.
After a conversation with girlfriends later that week, I called Glenn Anderson, Creative Director, and set up a date.
[Fast forward to present date]
Not long ago, my date and I were at a sushi restaurant whereupon a small group of ladies seated behind us were talking about men; one woman in particular relayed the details of her last date, when I realized, hey I dated that guy too! Glenn Anderson, Creative Director.
Temporarily losing my mind, I text my date (text!) who was seated opposite of me at a very intimate table, to move his chair closer to mine. I text him (text!) that the ladies behind me were talking about someone I knew and for no reason in particular I wanted my date to sit closer to me. Too funny.
Anyway...
[Rewind back to Glenn Anderson]
The specifics of how Glenn and I got to the point where we met at the restaurant for our date, escapes me. Since I was still kind of new in town Glenn choose the restaurant and it being a beautiful warm evening in Southern California, we took a table outside.
First, for this story I feel it's important to express that women who were raised with a positive father-figure were all instructed on the proprieties between the sexes while on a date, especially a first date. For example our fathers raised us (daughters) that men are supposed to hold open our door, which Glenn didn't do. Men are supposed to hold out our chair, which Glenn didn't do. Granted, these are tiny little acts of kindness, but niceties that are nonetheless nice things to do for someone else regardless of who the other person is. Furthermore, in Glenn's defense, I moved away from home to experience these different nuances of people, places, and things; on the other hand, not following the urge to punch Glenn square in the nose was becoming a rather painful mind game of tolerance.
I observed Glenn. He was again well dressed. Well manicured. Well placed. Well arranged. A perfectionist. A Creative Director. Unmoved. Unsolved. Unlived. I understood now why he shot mostly commercials. He didn't have it in him to get his hands dirty.
"Back at the café where we initially met, I'm sorry I was rude to you when you asked if I was an actress." I said to Glenn, not at all sorry.
Diplomacy being what it is, contrary to how I sometimes behave, I was raised to be polite if not at least diplomatic. And though I didn't mean a word of my apology, voicing one still seemed like the right thing to do now that Glenn and I were face-to-face to break that uncomfortable silence if nothing else.
"I appreciate you apologizing." Glenn merely replied. Then rather briskly shook out his napkin and gently placed it in his lap. And that's all he had to say about it.
[to be continued.... ]
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