Oct. 2: Nobody likes you when you're 23
This is a very strange title. The second I got it, I googled it and
discovered it's some sort of Internet meme. Someone actually wrote a
list about the things that suck about being 23. The top thing is that
you're too old for you college friends and you're too young for your
career friends. I think I can concur. I remember going to a university
bar when I was 23 and I felt like an asshole.
The strange thing is that 23 was actually a sort of good year for me. That's the year I won the best original script award at the Calgary One-Act-Play festival. The only reason that's award is worth anything at all is because another original script that year was penned by another playwright who is extremely successful today. I am not claiming that I am a better playwright than him (I'm not) or that my script was on par with his. All I am saying is that for that one festival in February of 1996, I was able to hold my own.
The name of my award-winning play was (and still is) Three Scenes from a Bus Shelter. It took place on New Year's Eve in a bus shelter in Calgary. The first scene involved two nodding acquaintances from high school as they subtly tried to one-up each other by bantering about hockey, cigarettes, and movies. The second scene had two teenaged girls on their way to a party who encounter a mentally handicapped man who is on his way to work. The final scene, which took place about 15 minutes before midnight, dealt with a lonely teenaged girl and a conversation she strikes up with a slightly older boy who just got fired from his job.
I actually played a role in scene one and directed scene two. I instructed the scene one director to treat me as an actor, not as a playwright, and she did this. It is, apparently, a trap to write and star in your own play. Sylvester Stallone got away with it in Rocky. The jury's out whether or not Michael Landon messed it up by playing Paw in Little House on the Prairie.
During rehearsals, one of the things we discussed was how some people use post-secondary education as a defense mechanism. Embarrassed that you still live at home, that you don't have any job prospects, that you have a non-existent social life or that you have no idea what you want to do career-wise? No problem. Just tell everyone you're in school. No one will judge you.
We decided that was the mentality of both guys in scene one. One guy was studying electronics at the Southern Alberta Institute of Technology while the other was doing general studies at the University. Of the two, I think the guy studying electronics had a better outlook, career-wise, and since I was playing that character, I allowed myself a small little smile as I bantered with my fellow thespian.
I was 23.
-
I have just googled Three Scenes from a Bus Shelter and I see that the play is available for purchase here:
http://www.worldcat.org/title/three-scenes-from-a-bus-shelter/oclc/40535177&referer=brief_results
Consider that a shameless plug.
Holy cow, ma. I'm published.
(Full disclosure: The play has been available for sale for almost 15 years now. The royalties I've earned from it have allowed me to buy exactly one raisin.)
-
Did anyone like me when I was 23? Probably more people liked me than when I was 22. When I was 22, I was angry and bitter. I believed I was supremely talented, blessed by God, and was furious that the world had not bestowed fame and fortune on me because of it. The previous year, I'd written another play called Barbecued Chocolate Christmas Balls. Produced it, directed it and starred in it too. It was so bad I got booed off stage. I was devastated. Didn't go home for days. I lived off my student Petro Canada card. I spent my nights at friends' houses (friends who weren't involved in my dramatic life) and spent my days watching movies (thanks to cinema gift certificates I'd received for my birthday.) At one point I even found myself wandering through Fish Creek Park late at night. It was very cold and a part of me hoped I would just freeze to death and end the whole mess. Then I saw a deer. Somehow, the deer made me realize that maybe all my teachers and critics were right. Maybe I didn't know everything. Maybe I should just assume that I'm pretty ignorant when it comes to playwrighting. Maybe I should give it another go. Maybe I'd learn something.
And the next year I was 23.
-
Another good thing about being 23 is I think that's when I started hanging out at Words Books & Cappuccino Bar on the corner of 17th and 17th in southwest Calgary. The place was owned by a guy named Rook St. Peter. On the last Saturday of every month, Rook hosted an open mic night there. I started going and I became something of a star there.
I think that my newfound popularity at Words gave me the strength to sever myself from some pretty poisonous friendships I had through much of my early 20s. I used to hang out with magicians and though I'm loathe to paint them all with the same brush, I should point out that a couple of them were very negative. Say what you will about pornography but I don't think I want to be friends with someone who has so much of it that he pretty much needs a whole room to house it all. I can't say for sure but I had my suspicions that some of that porn wasn't exactly legal...
-
23 was a good year for me, I guess. I remember being jealous of my brother because he had a girlfriend and I hadn't had one since high school. I remember being embarrassed because I couldn't get any acting gigs and I had to content myself with nowhere jobs like working in courier depots. I kept putting together battle plans to finally move out of the house and then suddenly everything would blow up in my face and I had to empty my bank account to deal with it.
I finally would move out the next year. But by then I was 24 and that's another story altogether.
The strange thing is that 23 was actually a sort of good year for me. That's the year I won the best original script award at the Calgary One-Act-Play festival. The only reason that's award is worth anything at all is because another original script that year was penned by another playwright who is extremely successful today. I am not claiming that I am a better playwright than him (I'm not) or that my script was on par with his. All I am saying is that for that one festival in February of 1996, I was able to hold my own.
The name of my award-winning play was (and still is) Three Scenes from a Bus Shelter. It took place on New Year's Eve in a bus shelter in Calgary. The first scene involved two nodding acquaintances from high school as they subtly tried to one-up each other by bantering about hockey, cigarettes, and movies. The second scene had two teenaged girls on their way to a party who encounter a mentally handicapped man who is on his way to work. The final scene, which took place about 15 minutes before midnight, dealt with a lonely teenaged girl and a conversation she strikes up with a slightly older boy who just got fired from his job.
I actually played a role in scene one and directed scene two. I instructed the scene one director to treat me as an actor, not as a playwright, and she did this. It is, apparently, a trap to write and star in your own play. Sylvester Stallone got away with it in Rocky. The jury's out whether or not Michael Landon messed it up by playing Paw in Little House on the Prairie.
During rehearsals, one of the things we discussed was how some people use post-secondary education as a defense mechanism. Embarrassed that you still live at home, that you don't have any job prospects, that you have a non-existent social life or that you have no idea what you want to do career-wise? No problem. Just tell everyone you're in school. No one will judge you.
We decided that was the mentality of both guys in scene one. One guy was studying electronics at the Southern Alberta Institute of Technology while the other was doing general studies at the University. Of the two, I think the guy studying electronics had a better outlook, career-wise, and since I was playing that character, I allowed myself a small little smile as I bantered with my fellow thespian.
I was 23.
-
I have just googled Three Scenes from a Bus Shelter and I see that the play is available for purchase here:
http://www.worldcat.org/title/three-scenes-from-a-bus-shelter/oclc/40535177&referer=brief_results
Consider that a shameless plug.
Holy cow, ma. I'm published.
(Full disclosure: The play has been available for sale for almost 15 years now. The royalties I've earned from it have allowed me to buy exactly one raisin.)
-
Did anyone like me when I was 23? Probably more people liked me than when I was 22. When I was 22, I was angry and bitter. I believed I was supremely talented, blessed by God, and was furious that the world had not bestowed fame and fortune on me because of it. The previous year, I'd written another play called Barbecued Chocolate Christmas Balls. Produced it, directed it and starred in it too. It was so bad I got booed off stage. I was devastated. Didn't go home for days. I lived off my student Petro Canada card. I spent my nights at friends' houses (friends who weren't involved in my dramatic life) and spent my days watching movies (thanks to cinema gift certificates I'd received for my birthday.) At one point I even found myself wandering through Fish Creek Park late at night. It was very cold and a part of me hoped I would just freeze to death and end the whole mess. Then I saw a deer. Somehow, the deer made me realize that maybe all my teachers and critics were right. Maybe I didn't know everything. Maybe I should just assume that I'm pretty ignorant when it comes to playwrighting. Maybe I should give it another go. Maybe I'd learn something.
And the next year I was 23.
-
Another good thing about being 23 is I think that's when I started hanging out at Words Books & Cappuccino Bar on the corner of 17th and 17th in southwest Calgary. The place was owned by a guy named Rook St. Peter. On the last Saturday of every month, Rook hosted an open mic night there. I started going and I became something of a star there.
I think that my newfound popularity at Words gave me the strength to sever myself from some pretty poisonous friendships I had through much of my early 20s. I used to hang out with magicians and though I'm loathe to paint them all with the same brush, I should point out that a couple of them were very negative. Say what you will about pornography but I don't think I want to be friends with someone who has so much of it that he pretty much needs a whole room to house it all. I can't say for sure but I had my suspicions that some of that porn wasn't exactly legal...
-
23 was a good year for me, I guess. I remember being jealous of my brother because he had a girlfriend and I hadn't had one since high school. I remember being embarrassed because I couldn't get any acting gigs and I had to content myself with nowhere jobs like working in courier depots. I kept putting together battle plans to finally move out of the house and then suddenly everything would blow up in my face and I had to empty my bank account to deal with it.
I finally would move out the next year. But by then I was 24 and that's another story altogether.
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