The Servant's Quarters

We just pulled in from auditioning. It was quite an experience. Very exciting and very enjoyable. For the kids. And for me.

We showed up early at an ice arena in Farmington Hills. We went right in, and there was almost no one there. Probably about half a dozen other people milling around. The kids signed in, and I took a seat in the hallway, fired my my Pocket PC, and started to do some Ford work while I waited for the youngsters to have their audition.

I hadn't even started my work when a young fellow popped out of the audition room and said, "We need a boy, a girl, a mom, and a dad." Then he looked right at me and asked, "Are you here to audition?"

I missed a beat and said, "Sure. Why not?"

"Come on. And you come in, too," he said, pointing at Philip.

So, Phil and I ended up in a room with a woman who was playing my wife and a girl who was supposed to be Phil's sister. It was a family shot with all of us engaging in animated conversions, complete with broad gestures and projecting voices. We were supposed to talk about anything. Just make it exciting and kinetic. Then, when the director tells us to, pick up our piece of pizza and, looking into the camera, take a big bite and react like this is the most awesome, wonderful, delicious, to die for pizza we've ever had in our lives.

But first, look at the camera, introduce ourselves, and spell our names. I almost didn't get out of the starting gate. When it was my turn, I said, "Hi," and my voice cracked. Clearing my throat, I continued, "I'm Tim Butler. T-I-M..." Suddenly, I couldn't remember how to spell "Butler." I'm not kidding. I drew a blank on my last name. I missed another beat or two, and managed to get it out.

Give me a break. I wasn't supposed to be auditioning, after all.

Well, we did our shot. I told my "wife" all about my awesome day. I brought the project in on time and under budget, got the best performance review of my career, and got a big fat raise. I was so excited. And to make things complete, Mrs. I-Can't-Spell-Your-Name had called me at work and asked me to pick up a Hot N Ready, the greatest pizza on the planet. Then, I turned to the camera and took a big bite, chewed vigorously and rolled my eyes in ecstasy. This was great. The height of my performance came when I looked at my "wife" and said, "Honey, I love your cooking. But it can't compare to this wonderful pizza."

I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille.

I had to repeat the performance in close up with the camera focused on my face. Mmmmmmmmm. Great pizza. Rolling eyes. Work it, baby. Work it.

Phil did the same thing for his audition. He cracked everyone up by practically reciting a Little Caesars sales pitch for his reaction to eating his piece. He said something like, "This pizza is so great. You just stop at Little Caesars, and it's ready for you to pick up. And it's only $5. It's the greatest pizza on Earth." The director cut, and said while laughing, "This kid's writing our copy for us."

We left with the remains of our audition pizza.

Later, Isaac and Olivia got called in to audition. Yours truly got to repeat his performance, this time with my real kids being my onscreen kids. Yes, I auditioned twice. And I didn't even ask to. I think it was just because it was easier to bring families in rather than mix and match. Also, a lack of men made it a natural fit. So, more pizza. More eye rolling. More enthusism.

After my second time, I stepped out into the hallway (which was quite crowded by this time), took a bite of what remained of my pizza, and yelled, "THIS IS THE GREATEST PIZZA I'VE EVER HAD IN MY LIFE!" Everyone cracked up.

I think we all did okay for our first time. We all stiffened up when the camera rolled, and I don't think any of us will be cast this time around. But it was sure a lot of fun.

Given what the director told us about how the shooting would happen, I don't think that I would be disappointed to not be cast. First of all, this is a 30 second commercial. The shot we were auditioning for would be about 5 seconds of the commercial. Just a quick glimpse of a family feasting on Little Caesars pizza. To produce that shot, the director told us that we could count on working 4 to 6 hours. And because it would probably require us to eat about two pizzas each, we would have to make liberal use of the spit bucket. The director would tell us to take a bite, react, love the pizza, and then cut. Followed by everyone spitting out their pizza into the bucket.

For 4 to 6 hours.

Yuck.

(But you have to know, I'd do it in a second!!!)