The time has come for me to let go of a dream. A dream I have held on to for so long now that it’s all I’ve ever really known. At age 27, (there I go with that age thing again, I swear I’m not obsessed, I swear to God (I don’t actually believe in God… long story, can’t really get into it right now, I’ve got cookies in the oven. You understand, right?)) it is finally time for me to say goodbye to my dream of becoming a child actor. It is with great pain and sorrow that I do this. Please give me a moment.
-(Insert moment here)-
Thank you.
My agent recently told me that I now officially look old enough to play a freshman in high school. This comes as a huge blow to me. I had always dreamed of playing the youngest child on a family sitcom, one where I could tattle on everyone, and get all the cutesy laughs and adorable moments. Apparently now, I’ll have to settle for the angst-ridden teenager. It’s true what they say, life really doesn’t go like you plan it.
By the way, I don’t think I mention this earlier, but I don’t actually have an agent “agent.” I represent myself. As you can imagine, it was pretty hard to break this news to myself. I started off with some small talk, you know, the weather… I asked about the hamstring (it’s been diagnosed as a class 2 hamstring pull. A class 3 is the worst. That’s when the muscle is completely ruptured. As it stands, I have a partial tear in my hamstring and it is accompanied by two, significantly large bruises; one right above my knee and one on the back of my upper thigh. I have another game on Wednesday, so that should be interesting.) and then I slowly moved in to deliver the bad news. I knew my reaction would not be good. I had sensed for some time that this conversation was looming, but I refused to believe that I looked over 10 years old. Needless to say, the news was not well received. I think I threw a plastic Dixie cup against the wall. It was empty of course, but the weight of my actions was apparent to anyone that witnessed my display of rage. No one actually witnessed my display of rage. I suppose for the sake of my career, I was lucky that the paparazzi wasn’t around. That’s the last thing I need, seeing my anger on display in the tabloids. Those snakes are merciless. They don’t care that my family will read that trash, or that their friends will read it and ask them questions like, “Is it true what they say about Jon? Does he really have an anger problem? I heard that plastic cup cracked when it hit the wall. I’m not so sure I want to be around such a violent person. I don’t think I’ll ever watch any TV sitcom he’s playing an angst-ridden teenager in.” My family just doesn’t need to hear that kind of thing, you know?
Well, after approximately 34 hours of introspection, I came to the conclusion that while one dream might be six feet under, a new one has just exited the womb of my imagination, and once I cleaned off all the afterbirth and amniotic fluid (which by the way is no easy task, I have a large and active imagination and to be honest with you, it’s kind of a slut, I mean, it will think about anything anywhere at any time, so it gets pretty messy in there… but I digress) the new dream emerged, healthy and ready for new life.
My new dream is to attend Fantasy Baseball Camp at Dodgertown in Vero Beach, Florida. It turns out that this dream costs about $4,200.00. If I start saving now, hopefully I will be able to attend sometime before my 106th birthday. I know that seems like an optimistic goal, but what can I say? I’m not optimistic? No, that wouldn’t make sense now would it.
Ok, I think the cookies are burning, gotta go.
4 comments:
this was funny. thanks. i needed it.
jon trust me, you never wanted to be a child actor.
where the hell are any of them right now? nicholas from 'eight is enough', stephanie from 'full house'? poor judy got misplaced somewhere in the second season of 'family matters.' the only reason people care about mk and ashley is because they've got shrewd businesspeople and have built an empire.)
you were meant for bigger things, my friend.
sorry to hear about the hammy. what does management have to say about i?
Olivia,
Nothing good about cigarettes. And it’s not the earthquakes you need to worry about, it’s the fires. I personally think earthquakes are the most tame of all the natural disasters. Honestly, we have a big one maybe once every decade, but we have a season of fire every year. I actually enjoy earthquakes too. Of course, I’ve never been killed in one. I suppose once I die in an earthquake I’ll quickly change my tune… I’m fickle like that.
Cadiz,
You’re forgetting one thing: Raven. (by the way, that first sentence is supposed to be said like the line in the Bouncing Souls song, “These are the quotes from our favorite 80’s movies” when they say, “you’re forgetting one thing: Rambo.” In other words, no one is going to make that connection or get that reference.) I’d have to say “That’s so Raven” is arguably the best show on television today. And yes, a panel of no less then 17 psychologists has confirmed that I have literally no taste at all when it comes to television programming.
And what are these “things” of which you speak?
And this cursed hammy! I have never had a situation in my life where I had to back down from competition due to injury. I don’t understand this concept, so it’s very hard for me right now. My head tells me to sit it out a few weeks so I can be healthy again, but my heart says play. Management doesn’t even recognize the problem. They’re all about numbers and they don’t understand the issues. They are so disconnected.
'that's so raven' is on cable. talk to me about something on pbs. how about 'Arthur'? i watch that every day as i'm drinking my tea before work.
said 'things' will be revealed to you when the time is right. (translation: i don't know, but you will when you find it)
hey, i never claimed to be helpful.
sit out and get better. you'll be happier later.
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