Mayor for a Day, Meeting Teddy Roosevelt

RG as Charlotte, NC Mayor TS Franklin (1908)

In this business, I have to be careful just how “political” I get, and in front of whom.  But it was a lot of fun to become Mayor of North Carolina’s largest city…even if it was the mayor from 1908, TS Franklin. 

After appearing in a promotional video all summer for the NC League of Municipalities 100th Anniversary, I was invited to reprise the character onstage to open the conference.  After a bit of “Back To The Future” fun with Mayor Pro Tem Susan Burgess (who graciously updated my character on technology and the role of women in politics), I relinquished the spotlight to “my President”, Theodore Roosevelt…expertly brought to life by actor/historian Jim Foote. 

I hope to have a few images from the actual event later.  Meanwhile, here’s a portrait shot taken during the original video shoot.

“Uncle” Sam…I am.

I’ve done voices for animated projects before, but have never been featured to this degree.  Thanks to animator/creator/voice talent Josh Faure-Brac for fitting me out in Red, White, and Blue as his “Uncle Sam” in this segment of his “SuperNews” for CurrentTV!  It’s also my first booking through voices.com…so double the celebration at the ol’ home studio.  Pray for sequels!  (CurrentTV LLC copyright 2008 – Used with permission.)

– over and out –

Long-Term Investments You’re Unaware You’ve Made

I did my first job for a certain Nashville studio last week.  Turns out the owners were fans of mine from radio days decades ago.  We re-discovered each other last year but it’s taken this long for me to connect with one of their clients.  That said, they had the job lined up for me before I even knew I was being considered.

I was asked my rate for this particular type of tv voicer and quoted what I thought would be reasonable for the market.

“Oh, I think we can do better than that,” my friend said.  She was right.  My rate wound up being almost double my quote…and there were four spots, not one as I originally thought.

When  asked if I could do a (very) slight discount on one of the cuts, since it was shorter and would only run on the local PBS station…you know I said “Absolutely!“

Clients like these are treasures to be nurtured!

Just in case you need to be reminded…there can be much benefit in treating your clients as friends, even before you know they are clients!  You literally never know who your work is going to impress, or what amount of time may pass before you see any tangible benefit. 

But trust me, it does pay off.

– over and out –

“I Want You To Teach Me. Here’s What I Won’t Do.”

     I’ll admit upfront, it’s good to have an idea of your limitations. It’s good to know what you expect from a learning experience. But when you’re asking a professional for help, rigid pre-conceptions don’t always produce the best results.

     Usually, I’m the “grasshopper”. But sometimes I am contacted by someone who thinks I might be “Master Po”. (If you don’t get the reference, study ancient American TV series.)

     Usually, I can find things in my experience which benefit the person who has sought me out.

     Usually, I can spot potential talent (or lack of) in the caller and try to provide helpful information. A lot of what I think I know was learned from someone else extending me a similar courtesy.

     And “Usually” I make a friend – either someone who becomes a good voice talent and future colleague, or at least someone who is grateful for free information instead of being sold a demo package.

 

     “Usually”…I have painfully learned…doesn’t mean “Always”.

CALLER: I was referred to you by (Studio Name). People tell me I have a nice voice and that I ought to get into voiceovers. (Studio Name) said you’re the man to talk to.

ME: Well, you do have a good voice. The thing to find out is what you can do with it.  What kinds of stuff have you done already? I ask just so I don’t start telling you things you already know.

CALLER: Oh, I get all sorts of compliments when I use the PA system at (Fancy Restaraunt). People are always telling me I should be on the radio.

ME: That’s a good start. Let me email you some material that’ll give you an overview of the business and what you need before you make a demo. Get back to me with any specific questions you still have and we’ll go from there.

(THE FOLLOWING IS A SEVERELY CONDENSED VERSION OF EMAILS OVER AN EIGHT-DAY PERIOD. I’LL STILL REFER TO THE RESPONDENT AS “CALLER”.)

CALLER: Me again. When can we start?

ME: I’m flexible. Did you have any questions about the stuff I sent you?

CALLER: Well, I really don’t learn from reading. And I’m certainly not gonna wade through all those pages of adobe acrobat. Do you have a contract for me to sign?

ME: I don’t usually need contracts, but I suppose we could work up something.

CALLER: Why did you send me all that stuff about “acting”? I don’t want to be an actor.

ME: Maybe I didn’t communicate that well. I meant that all voicework has some acting involved. You’re telling a story…even if it’s just a price-and-item radio spot. You need to be able to look at the copy, understand the message, and then communicate it to your audience, not just read the words in the right order. Let me do some web searching and I’ll try to point you to some websites that cover “acting” as part of getting started.

CALLER: (AN HOUR LATER) I don’t have time to wade through the half-dozen links you sent with 200-word essays on blah blah blah. And I don’t have time to do community theatre or read a bunch of books. I’m more interested in documentaries and commercials and stuff. ‘See, I learn by doing.

ME: Okay, I can relate to that. All the instructions I ever read about computer editing didn’t make any sense until someone sat down and showed me. But it would still help if…

CALLER: Do you have any examples of your (demo production) work I could evaluate?

ME: Yes, as I hope I mentioned in our first conversation, you can find a lot of them on my website.

CALLER: (LATER) They really weren’t that impressive. How can I learn anything from voices that really don’t “call out” to me? Anyway, I don’t learn by listening. I learn by practice…application…making mistakes and then correcting myself. What do we do next, master?  [RG note:  he actually called me that at this point.]

ME: Uhm. “Nothing”, I think. Those people have been doing local/regional/national work for years (myself included). And if you can’t listen objectively to them, I doubt you can listen to yourself. And if you can’t listen to what you are doing, you cannot possibly take direction…which will serverely compromise your voiceover career before it begins. I think we’re done. Good luck in your future efforts.

CALLER: If you can’t teach me, so be it. Just say so. I need someone who recognizes my talent and can work with me. Like Barbara Striesand says, “You’ve either got it or you don’t.” I’ve got it. I just need someone who will put me to the test.

 

     By this time I wasn’t sure if I was more angry with this narrow-beam seeker of knowledge…or myself for wasting so much time on him.

ME: You’ve just insulted me, my friends, my business. I did put you to the test…and you did not pass.

CALLER: No. You did not pass!

 

     And I know it was petty. God forgive me, it was petty. But I actually wrote back:

ME: I don’t need to justify my qualifications to an announcer from (Fancy Restaraunt).

    

     Now you know why I don’t advertise myself as a demo creator or voice guru. I obviously lack People Skills.

     I offer this as advice (free, if you want it) on how not to seek out advice.

     And I have little fear that “CALLER” will see this and try to sue me for slander.

     If you’ll remember, “CALLER” can’t be bothered to read.

– over and out –

“We’ll Be Good Friends (…as long as I need you).”

The line was spoken by my “voice idol”, Daws Butler, as a two-faced robot despot in Hanna-Barbera’s first big tv series, Ruff n’ Reddy.  But even if you’re not ancient enough to have seen it, you’ve probably run into the same attitude.  You know.  From certain clients.

Come on, you know the ones I’m talking about:  the ones who want you to give them a deal (I believe the new phrase is “Cut Me a Solid.”), or meet a really tight deadline, or stick to your original estimate while the demands of the project itself double and triple.  Those guys.  Of course when it’s time to cut the check…they’re, uhm…having cash flow problems, or just flat-out ignoring you.  And what are YOU going to do?  Chances are they’ve got more lawyers than you do.

That’s why it was so refreshing to read about one creative group (admittedly a much more powerful one than voices2go.com) called Modernista, who recently decided to call “time” on that game.  Here’s a quote from USA TODAY:

Modernista did the unthinkable: It filed a $500,000 lawsuit last year against its client, shoemaker Rockport, while working for it. The lawsuit claimed Rockport wasn’t paying for work. They’ve since parted ways. Regardless of who wins, the lawsuit is a clear message that few agencies dare to deliver to clients: Don’t mess with us.

Of course, I don’t bill in the billions the way Modernista does these days, but if I were ever to actually grow up, which at this point seems highly unlikely, these are the guys I’d like to grow up to be.

You can read the whole story of this fascinating group of creative folks via this link:

http://www.usatoday.com/money/companies/management/2008-08-10-modernista-ad-agency_N.htm

– over and out –

Hard Work In Reverse Order

Feeling like the kid with the measles watching his buddies play outside, I’m getting my “vacation” this year reading the posts from many of my VO friends who are out in Los Angeles for two big voice conferences.

I look at their pictures and marvel at all the hard work they’re doing (and rewarding themselves with some hard playing afterward), and the hard work they’ve done to get where they are.

Then there’s me.

I’ve discovered it’s hard work learning how to work hard.

Don’t get the wrong idea. I’ve done alright.  On another writer’s advice, I’ve gone back over my own accomplishments, taking encouragement and satisfaction from the things I’ve done over the years. It does help bolster the spirits, and I recommend the idea.

But I notice that in most cases, I’ve done it in reverse order: not really working that hard for the opportunity, but being ready to jump in and work when the opportunity arrives. It’s a lengthy inventory, but here are some highlights.

First Job In Radio – didn’t seek it out, but my Uncle Willie knew the station’s chief engineer and heard of a part-time opening at the hometown station.  He arranged an audition. Pitiful though my try-out was…I still have the reel to keep me humble…I got the job and eventually gained proficiency, and a little local fame.

First Job In Audio Production – had no idea how to start a business (and still don’t), but met Richard Fish as we scrambled to the professor’s desk to beg a copy of the tape he’d just played in our college class (“Three Skeleton Key”, with Vincent Price, SUSPENSE on CBS). We formed a partnership and spent two years trying to become the next Dick Orkin/Chickenman sensation. (You’ll no doubt note, Mr. Orkin is in Los Angeles, and I’m here reading about him…although I’ve met him twice.) Rich is successful in Audio Drama, working with everyone from Firesign Theatre to Norman Corwin.   Benefit of those years – honing production skills, writing, timing, effects editing, character voices.

First Job Away From Home – sort of sought it out, answering ads in Billboard. Was flown to North Carolina on the strength of my production with the failed partnership. Was turned down by management over salary/lack of exprience, but the production guy (Jack Shaw…yeah, that Jack Shaw) liked me and kept in touch. He brought me out again after three months of guys who “couldn’t live up to their demo tape”. I took a lower salary but gained a mentor in commercial production and copywriting, earning several local ADDYs before the year was out, and was given Jack’s job when he moved on.

First Job I Filled Out The Application For After I Was Hired – Station consultants are usually spoken of in derisive terms, but I owe one of them (Bob Canada) a lot. He was working ours and WRAL in Raleigh, and knew they were looking for a production manager and put Bob Inskeep in touch with me. I had moved three times in the past 12 months and didn’t want to move again, but Bob made the offer just too good to turn down. He literally sold management on me, helped me find a place to live, even co-signed the lease when the landlord didn’t want to allow my cats! Over many years with Bob and WRAL I got my first taste of local character celebrity…and a couple of national advertising awards, including a national ADDY (which merited a write-up in Advertising Age alongside…guess who…Dick Orkin!)

First Job In TV – The aforementioned Mr. Inskeep knew I’d done puppeteering with local church groups, and introduced me to the kiddie show host at the company’s TV station, “Uncle” Paul Montgomery. I wouldn’t have had the nerve to suggest he take me on, but with Paul and Bob’s encouragment I auditioned and was incorporated into the Uncle Paul cast, eventually doing six different puppets and appearing on-camera as a cartoonist. Paul taught me so many things I didn’t even realize I was learning: improv (there was never a script), timing, jazz (which incorporates both). And his main puppeteer, station art director Art Anderson, introduced me to using a TV monitor in puppetry.

First TV Commercial, First TV Production Job – I don’t actually remember which was the first one, but I do know I did not seek it out. Someone watching me work with Paul brought me in on another station project, which led to some station clients asking me to do some freelance, to some corporate clients (who were by then fans of my radio work) asking me to do industrials.

First Work On A Real Movie – I’d long since given up the idea of moving to L.A. (too scared, too lazy, too risky with family obligations), but my agent for local video work got wind of Jim Henson Pictures doing a movie at the Screen Gems Studio in Wilmington, NC and sent me to audition as an “additional muppeteer”. While I couldn’t even get cast as an extra as myself, my years working with Uncle Paul landed me one of the dozen slots open for “Elmo in Grouchland” puppeteers. Not a star turn by any means, but if you had told me 20 years earlier I’d be working on the same set as The Count and Big Bird, I would have laughed. A year later, the same group asked if I wanted to come back for “Muppets in Space”. It was only a few days’ work, but hey…they asked. I never had the nerve to pursue it.

First National Commercial VO – I’d love to tell you I fearlessly lobbied the top producers. But no, I was put forward by friends I’d made at ProComm after they’d accepted me on their voice roster, taken the time to know what I could do, and recommended me to their client. I never knew I was even UP for the job until after I’d been cast. That’s happened a lot since then, courtesy of people like Procomm, SunSpots, and VoicesOnLineNow.  And talking about ProComm…I didn’t even have the nerve to call them myself.  My friend Wendy Zier went out there to sell them on using her talents, and ended up selling them on me…years before she got on their roster herself!

The list goes on: learning how to be a freelancer (free advice from my dearly-missed friend George Lee, who had started a few years before me), learning computers and non-linear editing after years of splicing tape (friend Scott Pearson, who started out as a fan of mine and turned mentor, even though he’s far younger than I), first foray into blogs and internet marketing, and long-neglected coaching (Bob Souer, who has taken me on as a personal project).

A lengthy list of accomplishments, to be sure. But none began with anything like hard work, determination, or a plan. That always came after the fact.

So now, I’m watching these talented people doing all the marvelous things they’re doing — actively seeking out advancement with a firm plan and a clear idea of how they’ll make things happen. And I understand for the first time why I feel so totally “at sea” in comparison. I’ve never initiated the action, though I’ve at least been ready to respond. As several of my director friends have noted, I’m a decent “actor”, but I’m an even better “RE-actor”.

But maybe it’s not too late in life for a little change. With help from teachers like Nancy Wolfsen (voice acting) and Peter O’Connell (marketing) and all the other friends and mentors I’ve collected over time, maybe I can stop doing this backwards.

Come to think of it, though…I didn’t seek out either of those teachers. Someone else introduced me.

– over and out –

Accent Irony

I’ve always squirmed when I thought any of my “cartoon” or “Hollywood” accents might be played in the presence of a true national from whatever country I was mimicking.  What a revelation to discover that the British have to work so hard to do a convincing (and to my ear, much more “plain”) American accent! If you’ve ever feared for how badly your were mangling some else’s cultural sound, take heart in reading this from the BBC: “How Not To Do An American Accent”.  http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/7509572.stm Cheers, y’all.  …uh, I mean: – over and out –

Happiness…Without the 5 Easy Steps

Nobody who knows me at all would likely cite me as an example of a “Happy” person, although I have been known to appear “deliriously content” from time to time. And I’ve always been suspicious of those who blithely declare people like me are only unhappy because we “choose” to be.

But I was impressed with some of the thoughts of writer Roger Fransecky which showed up in the Huffington Post under what I took to be an almost taunting headline, “Happiness is a Choice”.

Yeah, right.

Well…maybe.

You can read the whole thing here.

Although the post sometimes rambles a bit, I did find a few gems I could at least choose to consider…even if I balk at the idea of simply choosing to be Happy.

…fear bind(s) us, edits our hopes and diminishes our potential for happiness.

 

Dan Baker’s book, What Happy People Know…notes that a major barrier to happiness is fear. He writes, “We all have a neurological fear system embedded deep within our brains, a neural network that once helped us survive as a species, but now limits our lives. The biological circuitry of fear is the greatest enemy of happiness.”

 To his credit, Fransecky follows the admonishment to face and defeat our fears with a:

Yes, but how?

And that’s when I really started paying attention.

He offers a few ideas:

Love yourself enough to create a life you will love living. Entertainment legend George Burns, whose own sense of purpose helped him live to 100, offered this wise advice: “Everyday, do something you love.”

He provides a beginner’s checklist.

Ask yourself:

• What brings vitality to my life? When do I feel most alive?
• What is my proudest achievement?
• What is my greatest gift? My legacy?
• For what are you most grateful?

 

Near the end of the piece, Fransecky touches on something many of us overlook, sometimes because of misguided modesty or a reluctance to claim the genuine good stuff in our own experience:

Happiness can become your default state and not some elaborate life lie by acknowledging your gifts, your lessons, the people in your “cast” who love and teach, tolerate and celebrate you.

My favorite phrase refers to the danger of happiness being “some eleaborate life lie”. I mean, if you have to work that hard at being phony, what’s the point? What I like about his effort is the idea of steering your concentration more toward your own genuine attributes with the hope and expectation that it’ll become a habit over time. And there’s that bit about taking time to notice the people in your “cast”. Even those of us living a solitary life as a voice talent tucked away in a home studio have some such group, even if it’s often not there in person day-to-day.

It also helps that he’s not presenting these as some magical incantation that will float you to the top of the mountain…more like some practical hand-holds you can use to help you get a grip on your way up.

Hmm…that’s a choice I think I could make.

– over and out –

“Aw, Man…Just What I Need!”

People who encourage other people to write a blog claim it can be therapeutic. Normally, I haven’t treated this space as such…at least, not primarily.

Maybe that changes with this post. It’s not funny and it has only a little to do with voiceovers, so if you’re looking for a laugh, you might want to skip this one.

I had gotten to the end of a full day, most of it productive, but a full one nonetheless. Several different sessions recording voicetracks with other talent, two very welcome last-minute commercials of my own via ISDN. With that last one, I was at the right place at the right time (actually, it wasn’t just luck… I was one of two voices being considered when the availability inquiry first came in, so at least someone liked my demo enough to put me on the short shortlist).

That offset some considerable frustration, knowing as soon as the session was finished, I’d have to make a hurried cross-town drive to deliver a replacement CD for a job I had, frankly, botched a week earlier. The client was gracious about it, even before I offered his next session free of charge to make amends. It was just five minutes to closing at the office when I delivered the goods and finally decided I could take time for breakfast/lunch/dinner…whatever. I hadn’t stopped for any meals all day, and I had more editing to do when I got home. Several auditions would have to be blown off for lack of time.

Driving back across town, nothing sufficiently appetizing presented itself. But before long, I remembered a cafeteria the family always has to bypass because it doesn’t have anything my young son will eat. Destination finally selected, I headed down the highway.

For whatever reason…maybe I was pre-occupied with the events of the day…I missed my exit, and had to go to the next one a mile or so down the road in order to turn around. As I veered up the ramp I remember thinking, “Man, I could have been sitting down to dinner by now.”

Coming down the curve of the opposite ramp I rounded the grassy embankment and was startled to see…a stalled line of vehicles!

“Aw, man…just what I need!”   I actually said it out loud.

That’s when I saw the guy sprawled on the pavement in the middle lane.

Several cars and trucks were forming a barrier behind him. Several drivers were already gathered around, looking for a way to help. A guy in the big white pickup truck ahead of me was honking his horn, irritated that the person in the little car ahead of him was holding up our impromptu caravan.

There was obviously nothing anyone could do until emergency vehicles arrived. In fact, I had no idea how bad things really were…no blood, no body parts, not even a set of skid marks. Just the form visible on the pavement, his legs pointing back toward us out of the crowd of would-be rescuers…legs clad in blue jeans and ending in black boots, spread in an uncomfortably, unnaturally wide “V”.

My “…Just what I need!” moment had instantly evaporated. I couldn’t even put the words together right as I heard myself try to mumble, “Well I guess someone has more pressing troubles than me…”.

Within a few more minutes, one of the volunteers was able to wave our little parade around the scene, and for the first time I noticed at least half a dozen vehicles…and two motorcycles…on either side of the three lanes. One car had its front smashed in, evidently from hitting the median wall. One of the bikes was on its side, its headlight sending a tuncated beam into the grassy embankment where it had evidently slid after losing its rider.

We hadn’t started moving a moment too soon. The impatient driver in the pickup ahead of me had been trying to wiggle out of line and around his nemesis blocking the open shoulder…horn blaring every few seconds. He obviously had more important places to be.

And me? Well, I finally got my well-deserved breakfast/lunch/dinner…whatever. But I dined very much pre-occupied with the image of those would-be helpers, huddled around the figure I had only seen as two impossibly spread, blue-jean clad legs. “At least, ” I thought, “I can have my delayed meal without needing a tube.” And later there were thoughts of how many weeks of pain the rider would endure before being able to have a meal such as I was enjoying.

Also in my head was the internal heckler: “…and YOU’VE had a bad day? Poor baby!”

At home now. Several hours past. Checking the local news station on the internet for anything about what I saw. Finally, after the 10pm hour was the briefest of reports.

I had been looking at a dead man.

Some poor guy had mis-merged his motorcycle just a minute or two before I showed up on that entrance ramp…and collided with one or more oncoming vehicles at full speed. He was my opposite number…definitely not at the right place at the right time, like me.

Not that it’s “all about me”. It’s just that mine is the only vantage point I can speak from at the moment. But I’m a bit ashamed at my lack of patience with the world…that so often I do make it “all about me”, and get very irritated when something happens that is just not “what I need.”

Five hours after the accident (as i edit this) two of the three highway lanes are only now re-opening at that entrance ramp where I had been waved through. And I’m sure that, repeatedly, as driver after driver approached the slowdown area there were the spoken or unspoken gripes from poor, inconvenienced souls:

“Aw man…just what I need!”

– over and out –

Meeting Mel Blanc (mini-version)

In one of my earliest posts I teased with a tagline that I’d do the next one on “meeting Mel Blanc”.  If I had given it proper thought, I would not have made such a promise until after I’d devoted time to actually writing the piece, and for anyone disappointed by the long wait, I apologize.

But seeing as how yesterday was the anniversary of the Great Man’s passing in 1989, it seemed only reasonable and fitting to acknowledge the genuine connection he tried to make with fans he encountered.  It’ll have to be a sample, though.  If I wait till I remember everything, we’ll be looking at another anniversary of the day.

I got to spend a couple of hours with Mel Blanc during a reception after one of his college lectures, and can attest that he really did make himself accessible to the fans.  I’m sure there wasn’t one question he hadn’t heard a million times already, but he always answered graciously.

Mel kept two different sizes of publicity photos with him for people who’d ask for an autograph.  One was envelope-sized which fit in his coat pocket, and there was an 8 x 10 version he carried in his briefcase.  They were “padded”, like a memo pad, so he could sign one, peel it off, and hand it to the adoring fan.  At one point he said, “People are always asking me ‘Doncha get tired of people always asking for autographs?’ and I say ‘Hell no. If they ever stop asking that means I’m washed up!”

I’m reasonably sure they never stopped asking. 

…and yes, I snagged one of the larger photos.  It occupies a prominent place near my work area with the personalized version of Mel’s standard autograph:  “Eh, What’s Up, Rowell?”

 

– over and out (for now) –