"AMBIEN Strikes Again" or "A Math Lesson"

THE COLOR OF THIS PHOTO HAS NOT BEEN ALTERED.

Note the striking pleated shorts, black tennis shoes, and silver tipped belt.

So, after a VERY long weekend of working as a valet, I finally have a minute to sit down and blog about it. So...I go to blogspot, log in, and discover...."Hmmm...I guess I already did." That damn Ambien! If I didn't love it so much, I'd stop using it. :) As a reader of this blog you may or may not be aware that aside from being devilishly handsome, I also suffer from chronic insomnia (or as my friend Gary Brown calls it....chronic hypochondria). Regardless of which is true (both may be) ...I don't sleep well. Ever. So, quite often I rely on the ever helpful Ambien for sleep. Now we've all heard the crazy stories about people taking Ambien and driving and not remembering it and killing people and not remembering it and that sort of stuff. Well...I am here to tell you ...that it's totally true. While I have yet to murder anyone while on the "A", after I take it, there are generally about 15 minutes that remain unaccounted for. Case in point...blogging. Look back to notice the bad grammar and punctuation errors. Yikes.

Now, here's what's interesting. I don't ever do anything weird. I mean...I just do normal stuff. Send emails, do laundry, make a sandwich. But I truly don't remember doing them. About two months ago, I woke up in the morning (like I do most days), and smelled something strange. (No, this isn't the smothered mouse in the waterbed story.) So I go out into the kitchen to discover..."Hmm....I guess I had some brats last night." I actually took some brats out of the freezer, defrosted them, cooked them in a skillet, put them on a plate, ate them, gave the plate to the dog (I know this because it was on the floor) and soaked the skillet in hot soapy water. Do I remember any of this? No. I didn't leave the stove on. I didn't cut my finger off. I guess I just decided I wanted some brats.

Once on the ship I awoke to an email in my "in" box saying..."Your order has shipped." Ummm....what order? And THUS concludes the story of why I now own adult sized Wheelys.

Back to being a valet.

I LOVE IT. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about it, but I really do enjoy it. Just in the 4 days I've worked, I've discovered some of the ins and outs and the politics and all that stuff. Very odd. But really...It's a great part time job. And since I'm a night owl...working til 4 am isn't such a hard thing.

There's already a handful of amusing tales which are much easier to tell than type. So..I will just share a few of the lessons learned.

I would say about 10% of the cars parked have an open alcohol container in them.

Mercedes Benz smell like Crayola Crayons.

The lock button in BMWs is above the radio.

If a truck pulls up and I am eye level with the grill emblem (true story), we do not valet them.

Straight girls in their 20's all look like hookers.

Occupational hazard..."May get punched in the jaw by some drunk chick doing the arm-ography to Greased Lightnin."

It is possible to get trapped in a Mercedes unable to move for up to 2 full minutes.

The most AMAZING walk of shame is when the guy you hooked up with dumps you on a curb at noon the next day to pick up your car you forgot the night before and you're still wearing your hooker outfit.


So all in all, it's fun. The guys are nice and I get to drive all kinds of cars. Last night we had some rap producer pull up in something called a Maybach. I, of course, thought it looked like a Hyundai, but apparently they cost about $400,000. Who knew?

But the best part of all is that it's like getting paid to do cardio. God knows I don't do it if nobody is paying. There are definitely breaks of time where there's standing around, but there is LOTS and LOTS and LOTS of running. Here's a little math.

I have about 30 runs on a good night. (Run=either pick up or drop off)
Each parking lot is 2 blocks away.
Parking lot is anywhere from 30-50 stairs above or below ground. (Average 40)

So...assuming that a mile is about 12 city blocks, and each story of a building is 10 feet, and that the average stair is 8" high... then in the course of an evening, I run about 5 miles and climb to the top of an 80 story building.

Of course every morning I can barely walk, but in the end, I'm happy I'm doing it. I've heard exercise is good for you. My mom always tells me that. Of course she might just now be feeling guilty about giving me a giant bowl of ice cream after school EVERY day for 18 years. Who knows?

That's it for me. I'm pooped. I think I'll go visit sleepytime. Goodnight.

I Got my FIRST HUMMER TONIGHT.

Clean it up, kids! I talking CARS. Or shall I say TANK. Those things are ENORMOUS. It's truly like driving a showbox with wheels it's so square. I was actually (and I'm not lying or exateragting) but the vehicle had about the same room as my cabin in the ship. Crazy. I'll write more about this later. there was so much that happened over the past few nights of being a valet, I need to be coherent when I write. I'lm sleepy now. Talk to you soon.

Too Close For Comfort

As I mentioned a couple entries ago, I've been feeling a little blue. I think all actors get like this now and again. You're in between gigs, not knowing what is next. Then when nothing seems to be coming around, you start to question why you do what you do, and why you didn't didn't go into the priesthood like your mom wanted because at least then you know you'd have a steady job. (If you've met Ceil, you know this was a true life plan for her only son.) :) Part of my "blueness" includes not opening mail. I don't know why. It just does. So...I finally started going through it a couple days ago. About half way through the stack I came across an envelope from Actors' Equity. I opened it up to discover my newest membership card. Whenever they send out a new card, there is always some sort of inspirational quotation about "the business" on the paper. This is what it said this time.

"Who is more brave than the person who walks out on stage, giving his all in the hope of pleasing the audience, but knowing full well that he is, in truth, at the mercy of a group of people, namely, the critics, who, if they dislike his performance, make this fact known, often in quite soul-destroying terms.

"Actors are often thought of as people who lead fairy tale lives or are no'er-do-wells. In point of fact, neither is the truth. They are artists whose minds and bodies take on the aspects of the most ingeniously programmed computer.

"Yes, the actor manages to carry on with his job in spite of colds, broken bones, and personal tragedy because he has an unassailable dedication to his profession which is seldom found outside of it."

Now, you know what I'm about to tell you is not like me. But I actually started CRYING when I read that. Maybe it was the Ambien. Maybe the final episode of the Golden Girls was on. Or maybe I'm just turning into an old sap. I don't know. All I know, is that it really made me realize why i do what I do and that I am happy that I do it. Gay.

Anyway...

July has been a good month for me career-wise. Last week, after a number of auditions, I was offered a job at the Kansas City Repertory Theatre in their upcoming production of WINESBURG, OHIO next February. This is a new musical written by the new artistic director there named Eric Rosen. I'm VERY excited about it. From what I've read of the script and from what I've heard of the music, I think it's going to be a really interesting piece to work on. We all know I'm a sucker for a musical...any musical, really...but I'm excited to be a part of this project. It will be a nice acting challenge, and it will be great to work with Eric.

So that was cool.

Then YESTERDAY, I got what we actors like to call a "job job". You know...NOT an acting job. For any of you who've known me for any length of time, you know I've had a number of strange jobs. I've been "the guy" that flours chicken for a catering company, I've driven an electric pallet jack in a warehouse, I worked in an ice cream parlor, I've counted the votes for the new color of M&M's, I've sold jewelry, I've merchandised window displays, I did phone interviews about prostate exams, and I even took phone orders for Richard Simmon's Deal-a-Meal and the infamous Flowbee Home Haircutting Vaccuum attachment. (No, it's not an urban legend.)

Well...keeping in that vein, I searched for a job. I really only had ONE requirement. It was to require ZERO brain power. After searching through countless craigslist ads I finally found the perfect job. So...as of 5:45 tomorrow evening...John-Michael Zuerlein is....................a VALET! Yup, you read that right. I'm a Valet. It's just part time. I think it's AWESOME. I get a smart new outfit and everything. I'll post a picture of that soon.

Also yesterday, I got a call from the American Heartland Theatre (where I just finished doing PERFECT WEDDING) asking me to come in today to read for their Christmas show..A TUNA CHRISTMAS. Now...for those of you unfamiliar with it (which is probably most of you) it's a two man show about a small town called Tuna, Texas and the two actors play all the various citizens of the town. Well, since it's getting late and I'm getting sleepy...I went in today to audition, it went exceedingly well, and this afternoon they called to offer me the job. YEA!!!!!!!!!!! So...I officially have work for the holiday season.

It gets better.

Who is the other actor you ask? Well...I'll tell you. It is none other than..........Jim J. Bullock. Yup. Jim J. and JMZ together at last. Many people apparently know him from Hollywood Squares, but I know him as Monroe on Too Close For Comfort in the early 80's. It was one of my favorite shows. What's strange, is that I worked with Nancy Dussault, who was ALSO on that show when I worked at the Ravinia Festival in Chicago. CRAZY. Needless to say I'm excited about the show and definitely looking forward to working with Jim J. Maybe he'll let me call him Jim.



So that's it from me again. It has been a crazy week. I guess all Ceil's prayers to Baby J are helping after all. Life is good. :)