The owner of a small advertising agency located in Birmingham came to see The Crucible, the play (and miserable experience) I just completed. I played Judge Danforth and, over my strenuous objections, the look the director (pompous ass, incidentally) chose was an anachronistic Chester A. Arthur like “friendly mutton chops” appearance (albeit with a silvery ponytailed wig [in the court scene, later bareheaded] and 18th century attire (still anachronistic but not quite as much so for a 1690s judge- no online pics available but will forward one if anybody’s particularly interested) . I’m a biggish guy (at least horizontally- about 6’ and 250 lbs) who looked even bigger in big hair and judicial robes/cape, and I have what’s been described as a “big booming bass” so I usually get the arrogant authoritarian roles in theater.
Anyway, the ad company co-owner liked my voice and “look” and got my contact info through the director. She called me a couple of weeks ago and asked if I would be interested/available to do some voiceover work for a couple of advertising accounts she has, and having nothing against quick/easy money I said sure. She had to cancel our first meeting due to some conflict or other, I had to cancel our raincheck meeting due to flu or something like it, but we met for lunch today.
She was surprised when I came in “because I thought you were a lot older and fatter and ooohhh… you’ve shaved! Can you grow it back?” I told her I was in the process of growing it back and the age in Crucible was a combo of self-administered makeup, acting and extreme nearsightedness in outdated contact lenses. (I’m 39, the character I decided was in his sixties.) “Well cool, but you can grow the beard back then, right?” I responded with a polite variant of “Uh, to the best of my knowledge my testosterone is in full working order, yes”. “Good!” I was wondering why facial hair had anything to do on radio voiceover spots.
So she told me about the job. I assumed it was a radio spot, but she said it’s actually television. “We actually want you to be on camera.”
Hmmm. Well, that changed things a tad, but still if it’s innocuous enough and was a paying gig I was interested. I asked out of curiosity why she needed me to have facial hair for it, because I doubted most clients were interested in a pitch person with big mutton chops and a walrus moustache.
“Oh, that’s exactly what they want! Or maybe a goatee! And can you do a southern accent?” Hmmm. This was getting interesting.
“Yeah, I can do several types of southern accents. Why?” She asked me to demonstrate and when I did what was basically an imitation of my father (who had an equally loud and resonant voice but with a very definite “Oh Belvedere! Come heah boy!” flair) and she said “That’s perfect!”
“What type of ad is this, exactly?” I have to admit I was intrigued.
And then she sprang it on me. “It’s not just an ad, but a whole character” she’s creating. She wanted me to wear a big white suit (padded to make me even more rotund) and a string tie and be “Big Daddy”. She has a car lot, a rent-to-own furniture place and a music store all lined up, “and that’s just the beginning! Once you become known in Birmingham and the like, you’ll probably be getting a new sponsor all the time. I honestly think you could be the next Earnest!”
I was trying to dislodge the piece of pot roast from the nostril it had just jumped into and she actually asked “I can’t tell, are you laughing or crying?” I told her I wasn’t sure either but I thought it was laughing.
I’d be less than honest if I didn’t admit I asked her how much it paid and, as “Big Daddy” would say, “that theah wouldn’t pay ya ee-nuff to git a dang Chihuahua drunk” (though she says “down the road a piece it could be really lucrative”). Hardly enough to give up (or risk) the day job unless I wanted to work a lot of night jobs when I wasn’t "Big Daddy"in for whatever waterbed or tux shop needed representation that day. Plus, best case scenario is that the dean here (a lovechild of Bob Denver and Martin Landau with absolutely no discernible sense of humor or the absurd) would only have a minor, non paralytic stroke when the commercials started airing, so I regretfully declined.
Anyway, interesting offer and one I’ll probably regret turning down when “Big Daddy: The Motion Picture” grosses $300 million in domestic release alone. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a pity that I wasn’t offered such a chance a few years ago when I was broke and in-debt and would gladly have jumped at the opportunity even if it meant wearing a tiara and lederhosen and advertising for Brother Bubba’s Topless Tavern & Abortion Emporium if it meant a few bucks, but with the MLS you get a scruple or too I suppose. As Sartre observed, we are the consummation of our choices.
Mundane and pointless, but I had to share it.
If they’d add another zero to the check I’d have done it, but it pays just a little too little to be recognizable in a grocery store to people who’d probably wonder if you could get 'em a discount on that four poster waterbed.
