Lazarus Rising From the Dead

The drive to the North Hollywood casting studios can be unpredictable so I've learned to avoid Santa Monica and Sunset Boulevards and leave at least twice the amount of time to get there than I think it will take.

I arrived before my call time and signed in to audition for a commercial for the world's most famous burger chain.

"We're waiting for your husband," the casting director explained I was going to have to wait.  I needed a partner to audition with since the commercial called for a husband and wife. Five white guys and I sat in the waiting room. 

"I can audition with one of them," I offered. 

"Advertisers aren't that creative," the director responded. Okay.

Lazarus (my TV husband's name, not the guy Jesus raised from the dead) arrived late (big no-no) so we didn't get the usual five-minute prep. 

It showed. 

We had to start over three times, which might not have been so bad if my fake husband hadn't kept using the name of a competitor's chain!

Goodbye SAG national paycheck. Goodbye residuals. 

But I've learned even if it doesn't seem like you'll book a part, give it all you've got anyway. Sometimes it turns out you're right for the part afterall.

After one audition, I had a feeling I might book the part but the director cast someone else. The day of the shoot,  my agent called saying the other actor's flight was delayed - in another country! The director wanted me to replace her on set that day. I showed up ready to work (that director later cast me in several projects).

Back to Lazarus. "I just had something else on my mind," he apologized. I wasn't mad though, because lately I've had a feeling that dreams, promises, that seem dead are going to come back to life. Thanks for the reminder, Lazarus.

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