So, after signing with a manager for That Baby over a year and a half ago, I finally heard from her yesterday for an audition to be held that afternoon. After my initial shock, I immediately remembered that just the other day I had decided to dissolve our contract with this woman and that I would take on his management responsibilities. Apparently, she read my mind. I confirmed that he would be at the audition.

This experience was very different from the first time I took him out to meet with an agent. He is older now and more socialized. The experience of meeting with new adults is not as shocking or new. He speaks very well and can follow directions, both of which are important skills, just generally.

Strangely enough the idea of going to an audition, be it mine or my son’s, gave me that giddy feeling that maybe, just maybe this would be the one. Those weird endorphines that gave me such a rush, back in the day, were coming back. It scared me, made me sad and also made me happy at the same time.

I gathered my senses and tried to redirect my mind to that of a stage mom with a slight leg up on the competition in as far as what this business demands. We must always know that it is a business and nothing personal. I immediately tried to distance myself from the personal. And remind myself that this is his audition.

We went home and ate some lunch. I put That Baby down for a nap so he would be refreshed and pliable for the afternoons activities. I skillfully prepared his headshot and resume which is indeed an actor’s crucial asset. I secretly hoped that the response to his pic/resume would always be more positive. I reminded myself that it doesn’t matter how successful he is at acting. He is only three and I hope that he does more with his life. However, I also know full well that if he books now, anything for cars, cleaning aids, restaurants, or medicine which is listed as “National, SAG,” he will be able to do whatever he wants later.

I made a note to get a portfolio to put his information in, similar to mine, for safe delivery to auditions. Provided this audition went well.

I filed for a renewal of his work permit. Just in case.

I got ready while he slept. I discovered that old habits die hard. I found myself attempting to dress appropriately and in something slimming, only to be reminded that it didn’t matter what I wore. It wouldn’t be my audition. I remembered not to wear perfume so as not to offend any casting director’s sense of smell, and then I remembered that no one would be smelling me. I still opted out of the perfume should a CD smell me and not like That Baby because of it. Heh. I started to Do My Make-up, which is in fact different from doing my make-up, and then I remembered that I would not be on camera so it didn’t matter if I even did my make-up at all. Same went for my hair or my *ahem* roots.

Rest assured though, habits were not totally squelched and I preened some.

I woke That Baby and tossed him in a shower. I figured his hair should probably be clean and not sticking out like a big fuzzy halo. I dressed him up in something accidentally cute and shoved on his accidentally cute shoes. It was so much easier getting him ready for this than anything I had ever gone through for an audition.

We packed a bag with toys and snacks and and off we went. On the way we discussed where we were going. There would be other kids to play with, I said, and probably there would be an adult who would ask some him some questions.

I found myself preparing him. I asked him questions in a silly excited voice.

Me: What is your favorite toy?

Him: Ummmm… SPACESHIPS! (not his favorite toy by the way)

Me: What is your favorite animal?

Him: Lion and a TIGER!

Me: Ohhh… what do lions and tigers say?

Him: GROWLLLL!!

Me: How OLD are you?

Him: Free (three)

It all felt strange and yet familiar. These were the same types of mental calisthenics I would put myself through, if I didn’t have any sides to memorize. Except without the whole favorite toy, roar like a lion thing…er…usually.

We arrived and as we found parking, always a daunting task at auditions,* I got the ‘rush.’ The rush that would come for practically every audition I ever went to. Especially if I was going out for a play or a movie. This was a chance to show my stuff! Look out, here I come! and all that other blathering in my mind. But this was different. Because, again, it wasn’t Me. It was Him. His moment. And he wasn’t/isn’t even aware of what this moment meant.

As we entered the casting offices, the din of what sounded like a million howling kids, assaulted us at the door. It was terrifying loud. I had never been to such a loud audition location. I can only guess this is how it is in the kid sector. In one corner I noticed a call for teen girls and I spied a gaggle of them on a bench flipping their hair and looking very Mean Girls, all of whom wanted to be Regina. There was one girl who was definitely at the same call as them but who had clearly distanced herself from the entire flock. She will get the job. More on this in another post.

We signed him in and waited for the call. His audition went well. He took direction, stood up straight and smiled at the camera. And then we were done. SAG Commercial auditions go pretty quickly and I found that I wanted to hang around. Do it again.

I wanted to be here, more. And that is the thing isn’t it. I want to be here more.

Alas, we had to leave. People might start to stare. Wonder why we were lingering.
He may get a call back or he may not. Either way it is okay. He seemed to have fun and asked if we could go back today.

At all the wrong times I remember just how much I love to be a performer. I still truly hate the industry itself for being so fucking difficult and biased and sexist and ageist and just plain hateful of everyday performers, especially women. But what I realize is how much I appreciate and respect the craft and those who do it well. I know how much fun it can be to perform, to act, to sing, to dance in front of an audience.

If That Baby ever books something I hope he has fun. It should be like playing. Every time we act, no matter how old we are, the play is the thing. And if he at any point stops having fun, then he will never be asked to do it again.

* Parking is so difficult for auditions that one year, with a straight face, I asked my tax person if I could write off my parking tickets since that was the cost of parking at auditions. She said no. I should have hired a more creative accountant.