The Relationship between the Actor and the Agent

     To understand the relationship between an actor and his talent agent, I have decided to explain by dissecting an infamous joke. As you read, you will understand that there is truth behind all humor, but it is the lack of truth which provides the humor.
~ An actor comes home and finds his home ransacked...
[First let it be known, actors do not own houses. Mortgage companies rarely see acting as a profession worthy of an investment risk. And since most actors are on the go, and rarely have time to clean up the clothes, costumes, bags or make-up strewn about their living space, how would this actor know if his home had been ransacked at all?]
~ He find his wife and kids are tied up...
[An actor has a wife and kids? Maybe she showed up to drop off the kids for a visitation. Marriage and actors rarely mix. And if this actor was married with kids, she would have a job. And if she was working to support his career, she would show animosity and make him quit. Thus it would be a two income home and they could possibly afford a better security system.]
~The actor removes the duct tape covering his wife's mouth...
[Need I ask why any man in his right mind would go to the wife first? She will give him an earful in due time. So he should have untied the kids, fed them and got them to bed first. Then he could take all the coming verbal onslaught that he was due and the kids would not be crying and hungry.]
~She tells him that his agent came to the house and did all this...
[As you can see the set up is leading to a very simple punchline. So let's sidetrack here and talk about gas prices. I believe gas should cost $1.18 at the pump. There is no reason that it should not. Gas prices are based on what a handful of oil speculators believe that prices will be like in the near future. Well I say, what if in the future a voice (from the great beyond) sounds off and tells us specifically how to harness nuclear fusion? And what if the cost of energy becomes just pennies on the dollar and we could sue the big oil and gas companies for gouging consumers? Well, we would probably have to be taxed by the government to cover a larger defense budget used to protect us against countries that can now move, work and grow without our control. {Yes! Energy is a control issue!} Well? Then the whole point of gas and future prices would be mute. Now...back to the joke.
~PUNCHLINE: Actor says, "My agent came to the house?"
[Agents do not come to the house! They do not care, coddle or Jerry McGuire any of their clients unless that client has the potential of making them a mountain of money. Agents would not drive to an actor's house, they wouldn't know the address. If they did, actors would be paid quicker since the checks would be mailed to the right place. Agents would be too drunk to tie a good sturdy knot. Agents fear spouses because they already plot to destroy the agent's money maker's career. So this could not take place. Making it more a fantasy, then a joke based on any reality.]

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One Minute Theater: Politics Make Strange Bedfellows & Jonny Quest

The following is a ficticional account of the meeting between the GOP delegate leader and a certain Midwestern Governor (not unknown for his own political controversies). Meeting takes place in Governor's Mansion:

Drumpf: I guess the song was wrong...
Gov: What song is that?
Drumpf: "God didn't make those little green apples..."
Gov: I don't follow...
Drumpf: "Rain in Indianapolis..."
Gov: Yes! We have had quite a lot of rain this year...
Drumpf: Who sang that?
Gov: Rain? Er.. Prince?
Drumpf: This is going to haunt me all day!
Gov: Well.. I'm certainly honored that you could take time out of your busy schedule to come for a visit to the Hoosier State!
Drumpf: What the heck is that..
Gov: A Hoosier? Lots of people ask that.. and there are quite a few answers...
Drumpf: No! What the heck is the name of the guy who sang 'Little Green Apples"? Come on.. you know the song! It must be the State song or something.
Gov: No I believe that would be Back Home Again in Indiana?
Drumpf: That's weird! Why would your state song be about leaving... then coming back home? Letterman never moved back here...
Gov: So I hear you are on a bit of a time crunch...
Drumpf: It'll come to me... anywhooo.. where do you keep your cool plane? You still have it, right?
Gov: Plane? I have access to a jet. Yes!
Drumpf: No! The one you used to fly the Doctor and the kids around the world in! Bet you could hit Warp 3 or Mach 2 in that bad boy!
Gov: The Doctor?
Drumpf: Are you still practicing those Judo moves?
Gov: Excuse me! (To Lt. Governor) Do you know who he is referring to?
Lt. Gov: I believe he has you confused with Race Bannon...
Gov: ?
Lt Gov: Body guard and pilot from Jonny Quest!
Gov: ?
Drumpf: That's the guy!!!
Lt Gov: He's a character from a Saturday morning cartoon. Play along!
Drumpf: Roger...
Gov: ...Over and out!
Drumpf: Roger Miller sang the song!
Gov: Jonny Quest?
Drumpf: God Didn't Make Those Little Green Apples... and It don't Rain in Indianapolis in the Summertime.
Gov: Ah.. yes! THAT song!!!?!
Drumpf: Let's get down to brass tacks. If I offer you the Veep... will you teach all my kids judo?
Gov: I'm sure there are some fine Judo coaches we can look into...
Drumpf: You're right! There won't be enough time between flying the jet and fighting off the gargoyles!

Gov: Gargoyles...?
Lt. Gov: Go with it, Sir!
Gov: Mr. Drumpf.. I'm your Man... pilot...er.. judo guy!
Drumpf: Not so fast... I haven't offered anything yet!
Gov: I haven't accepted anything yet!
Drumpf: Oh! Is that how it's going to be?
Gov: If you think it is.. or isn't!
Drumpf: We'll discuss this more after I meet Bandit?
Gov: ?

Finis

(Note: A parody! We would like to acknowledge our great respect for Hanna/Barbera and Jonny Quest.. who made this all possible... oh.. and Roger Miller: God Didn't Make Those Little Green Apples

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The Cubs, The Deer..and I'm (almost) Out of Here

     The year was 1995. I was working for our family tool and die company in Richmond, Indiana. I kept a townhouse there and an apartment in Indy. I was not rich, I was lucky. The townhouse was in the family and I just happened to need a place to crash in Richmond during the week so I got to use it. In fact, the house was bare with only a few essentials... dining room table and chairs, bed, dressers and kitchen plates, pots and pans. No TV, but a piano. Minimal, but livable.
     My girlfriend lived in Indy not too far from my apartment on the North side. She worked 2 part time jobs (and 1 non-paying full time). She was trying to start a career as a financial advisor. It was going slow. Too slow.
     She was 13 years younger and our relationship ran both hot and cold. I was hot for her and she, in turn, would give me the cold shoulder. But I adored her all the same and kept up the chase.
      While working as operations manager and purchasing agent for the tool company, I had become friends with quite a few of our vendors, one in particular. A young lady from Western (upstate) NY. She sold paper products out of Amherst, NY. not too far from where my father's side of the family lived. Now... this was all way before Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram, Skype and even smart phones. We would talk via her company's 1-800 number or after 11 o'clock when the long distance rates were cheapest. Hey Kids... have we progressed? I would say... but I digress!
     This is actually the story of a baseball game... in a town known to party like mad on Opening Day. In 1995, the Cincinnati Reds Home Opener was against the Chicago Cubs... my two favorite teams!

     My buddy Timmy talked me into meeting up with him and a mutual buddy in Cincy for this opening day match up. The plan was simple... hit the bars... go to the game... hit the bars again. Well, seemed simple. Proved dangerous.
     I drove down a bit early and found parking. Waited about an hour for them to catch up with me at our first rendezvous. Timmy, Matt and I all have the gift of gab ... so even as Cubs fans... it was easy to make new friends everywhere we went in downtown Cincy, right before the Reds Opening Game of the season. Walking from bar to bar and later heading to the stadium... we got phone numbers (we would never use) and details about the best places to hit up after the game. Home town fans all in good cheer!
     At Riverfront, our seats ended up being behind the Cubs dugout on the third base side. Our Cubs admiration was not lost on some of the die hard Reds fans in the area and we took some well deserved ribbing... but we gave back as much as we took... as I remember. It's baseball... not some NFL Raiders/Chargers game where knives and guns decide who is the best and the baddest fans.
     Now the year before in 1994, MLB had a strike. It was so bad... they cancelled THE WORLD SERIES! No one cancels the World Series.. well.. maybe a world war. But not players... or team owners... but alas... baseball descended down the rabbit hole. The big question was whether the fans would come back to the ballpark? They did. It was a full house as I remember. But I also remember that around the fifth inning (or so)... a majority of fans pulled out toilet paper rolls and tossed them onto the field en masse. It was awesome! Prepared before hand. Quietly kept under wraps.. and pulled off beautifully.   
Dear Players and Owners:
You wanna cry?
Here! Wipe your ^#$# tears!
~ Signed
The Fans of MLB
      The Game ended and we headed to the bars downtown. Every place we were directed to before the game turned out to be a hot spot. Pretty girls, cheap drinks, music and more. We partied for about 3 more hours before we all decided to turn tail and run back to Indiana. I was popped, but had started to repair with water and coffee.
     Driving alone, I headed back to Richmond through Brookville Indiana. Small town Brookville is featured in my classic River Days: A Coming of Age Tale... MiddleAge. Available on Amazon... Buy it!
     All well in Brookville, driving past all the usual landmarks, stops, hangouts and river. Now... just head up the 101 toward Richmond. 30 minutes, at most!
     I used to play tennis with Kelly Kelly, a beautiful young lady who I had met in the Brookville area during a past canoe adventure. The tennis courts we played on were just on the north side of town. As I passed them, I remember smirking a bit. I did not realize danger was just past the next curve.
     On a hill, on the east side of the highway was a 6-8 point buck. He looked down at me in my Nissan Sentra... made eye contact... then lowered his head and charged at the car! WTF??? It all went into slow motion, even as fast as the incident happened in real time. He hit the passenger door. Flew above the windshield, tapping it with a hoof or two... like F^%( ing Rudolph the Red Nosed (flying) Reindeer... and landed on the other side of the highway. Amazingly, I was still in control of the fast moving vehicle... Wait! No... I wasn't! The car made two complete spins on its own. (Praise the Lord! No traffic, either way.) Finally landing tail end first into a rocky ravine off the shoulder of the road.
     Now people say when you are having a near death experience, you will see your entire life pass before your eyes. I will confess this... I remember seeing life events up to and including the combination to the locker I used during my sophomore year in high school (12... 27... 34) 20 years prior.
     The deer got up... stumbled a bit.. and then ran off peeing blood. It sprinted away as best it could. I was trapped in the car by a seat belt that wouldn't unbuckle (but probably saved my life!)
     The first person to stop and make contact was some woman who claimed to work for the highway patrol... and she'd go get a cop! Yikes! Day just got better! Not!
     The second vehicle was a pick up truck with two good old boys asking if I wanted the deer. "No! Kill it.. and the rest of his whole family!" They parked the truck on the opposite shoulder, took out a couple rifles (support the NRA) and lit out on foot after Bambi's Dad!
     What followed was a long line of gawkers and rubberneckers. The last being the driver of a truck cab who stopped, got out and actually walked down the ravine to check on my situation in the car.
     "You bleeding?" ..."You hurt?" ..."You have any chains to pull yourself out?"
     " No... don't think so!" ... "Just my pride!"... "Chains? What?"
     Well... Mr. Trucker could instantly tell that I was in no shape to get out of that ravine by myself... or to be driving at all, for that matter... ("How many beers you been drinking?") So, he went back to his truck, opened a side compartment and pulled out his own set of chains. Placed them under my car... and dragged me out.
     "Now listen! I live up the hill.. the house with the blue and red reflectors at the end of the driveway. I want you to go to my driveway and stay there until you pull yourself together!"
     "Yes, Sir!"
     And I did. I found the driveway. Pulled off far from the road and waited a good 30 - 40 minutes to clear my head and think about what all had happened! As I sat on his property assessing life and death, I watched a parade of highway patrol cars racing back and forth, up and down Highway 101 looking for the 'mysterious, vanishing deer clobbering' vehicle.
     I made it to Richmond by sun down. Stopped at Mom's house to report what had happened... she seemed genuinely concerned. I then headed straight to the Townhouse.
     First call was to my Indy girlfriend. I told her about how I was hit by a deer and now felt lightheaded from the experience. She told me that it was her night off and she was heading downtown to go dancing with some friends. "Just... take it easy... take some Tylenol. You'll be fine! Look.. I gotta go!"
     Second call was to Miss Amherst NY. I told her the whole story... beers, bars and all... Her reply? "You get to the emergency room and get checked out now! Don't lay down... don't go to sleep!" (I told her I was tired and wanted a nap!) "I am going to call back in one hour! If you do not answer the phone.. I will call an ambulance and the police to break down your door! Do you hear me..."
     Guess which one I married?

     Now, what exactly did I learn from the flying deer adventure? Life is fragile, but extremely livable! And be sure... to count your blessings everyday... especially when you are prone to make a bad decision or two.

Go Cubs!


Finis

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MJ Ferruzza