This Can't Be Broccoli

***Expletives Ahead*** You know why I identify with Hillary Clinton? Because I've been up for a role before all the while knowing that they wanted to give it to the other guy. I felt i was better for it, that I had done everything I was supposed to do, and that it would be the smarter choice to go with me--and they still wanted the other guy, because of however they felt about me personally. I've gone into an audition knowing that any little mistake I made was going to disqualify me, that I had to work extra hard to overcome people's personal opinions of me--things I've said or done in the past--and nail it every step of the way to even get a fair shot. Meanwhile, the person across the room from me has done everything wrong, showed up an hour late, is unprepared, doesn't seem to care about the role, the project--any of it, seems to be there just to prove a point, and the people in charge are practically begging him with their eyes-- "Just keep it to...

I remember when I was in first grade, and a girl in my class asked the teacher if there would ever be a woman President. The teacher, a woman, said "No, because men will never take orders from a woman." Now, I was pretty young at the time, but I remember thinking "That seems stupid." After all, back then it was just me and my Mom, and she was the strongest, smartest, hardest working person I knew. Most of the women in my life seemed more than capable of being in charge of p retty much anything, including that first grade teacher. And I listen to them all the time, I thought, so why wouldn't other men listen to them? And why is that the woman's fault? Can't the men just change? Even though what I was being told seemed wrong, I remember believing it, because it was what my teacher told me. Plus, it didn't really matter to me one way or another, because I was a boy. That meant if I wanted to be President, I could be. So why think about it too mu...

Nine years ago today, the last Harry Potter book came out and I was going through one of the worst periods of my life. I remember thinking--I know what I'll do, I'll go to one of those midnight book release parties. I'll be surrounded by happy, smiling people and I'll feel better about everything. I specifically didn't get any of the "save your place in line" tickets, because I wanted to throw myself into the chaos of the evening. I had read all the Harry Potter books, but I wasn't as diehard a fan as a lot of people, so this was meant to just be a nice distraction. When I got to the bookstore, it was pandemonium. Okay, I thought, you wanted chaos as a distraction, here you go. I waited in line...and I waited....and I waited. Then the sadness I'd been wrestling with kicked in, and the little voice in my head started saying, "This is stupid. You can get one of these books some other time. Let's just go home and crawl under the covers...

The Nicolle Wallace interview with Jeb Bush last night was so many things--sad, irritating, and also just plain fascinating, because the same question kept coming up--"How did we get here? How did Trump end up being the nominee?" I can see why they--along with so many other people--are so confused. Up until very recently Trump was known for being pro-choice, critical of the 2nd amendment, and not very religious. He seems to go against everything the GOP stands for, but there's one thing he has going for him that Jeb and a lot of the other Republican Presidential candidates didn't have-- He infuriates liberals. There's something we have trouble saying in America--and it's that a lot of us want to see our enemies fail more than we want to see ourselves succeed. Or maybe I should put that a different way. Let's say you were given two choices: You can have a life where you achieve tremendous success but everyone you don't like achieves the s...

Today I received a rejection letter (well, a rejection e-mail) letting me know that a play I’d written that I really, really loved was not going to be part of a festival that I really, really like and admire. Now, this isn’t unusual. When I first started writing, a friend of mine said “What’s the matter?  You weren’t getting rejected enough as an actor?” I didn’t really get what she meant at the time, but now I’m very aware.  Writing is to people with low self-esteem what a heat lamp is to an ice cube.  You know eventually it’ll destroy you, it’s just a question of how long it’ll take and whether or not you’ll actually enjoy being a puddle. So now I get rejected for something every day.  That’s not an exaggeration either.  It really is an every day occurence.  Sometimes it’s twice daily.  Sometimes even three times, and those are the days I put on opera, get in the tub, and try to summon the spirit of Glenn Close in “Fatal Attraction” so she ...

As I sit here writing this, I find myself envying strangers. Somewhere, I imagine, there’s a person working at a day job, who, once the day is done, will find themselves with nothing to do. I think of somebody like that, and a little part of me wonders what that must be like. Before I go any further, let me say the following things: - I’m a writer and I love being a writer. - I do theater and I love doing theater. - I have a day job and I like my day job. - I stay busy and that’s my choice. Okay, maybe we need to talk about the last one. I think there’s a chance I might be addicted to being busy.  Although, I feel bad throwing the word “addicted” around the way everyone else does—“I’m addicted to coffee,” “I’m addicted to exercising,” “I’m addicted to various cheeses.” (That last one is me.) I do feel like…Well, how can I put this? I feel like I’m becoming more and more aware that I have a finite amount of time on earth and during that time, I...

I have a theory about “The Walking Dead.” Obviously—Spoiler Alerts are about to abound, so beware. Scroll down. Maggie and the Baby are goners. Here’s my logic: It starts with Andrew Lincoln saying reading the script for the finale made him so upset he called out of work the next day. Now, there’s a lot of awful shit that’s gone down on “The Walking Dead,” and he said this is the first time he’s ever been that upset. That means we’re going into uncharted territory— Babies. When “e.r.” first premiered, the rule was, they couldn’t kill children, because it would be too upsetting.  Then, as time went on, they had to, because people were used to adults dying, and they needed to up the stakes. So far, we’ve heard about children dying on The Walking Dead, and we’ve seen zombie children, but the winter premiere was the first time we’ve seen zombies kill a kid. And...