Production Blog for the Yet Untitled J. Robert Tierney Web Project. 12/29/2007

Why I decided to act again.

Short answer: Laziness.

The other answer: If you could have seen me at the height of my game[1]. It was the 80’s, the only tape I owned was the Back the Future soundtrack[2] and I was playing the title role in “Shaping Up Santa.” It was a story of eating disorders and addiction and my solo, “Hot Fudge Sundae,” so moved the sixth grade teacher, Mr. Kellogg, he declared that very night, “Well I know who’s gonna be my lead next year.”

But I wasn’t the lead next year. My talent was relegated to the ancillary but wordy role of reading the Declaration of Independence to a revolutionary classroom. The scene would be a single wooden tent pole propping up a even woodsyer production. It was frustrating but out of my hands.

Believing that no one would let me do the great work I knew in my heart existed, I turned my focus to someday becoming the closer for the Boston Red Sox. I never looked back, but it was only junior high, there was little to look back on.

When I got tired of people finding reasons not to produce my pilots and having never developed that devastating slider/ change up/ curveball/anything, I decided to go ahead and create my own show. With no money and no sets and no crew, no one I had in mind for the main role liked me enough to work one weekend a month for just under a year, for free. I could barely trust myself to show up. But at least then I would only have myself to blame.

I remember when I finished, “Hot Fudge Sundae” in front of a packed Howe Manning Elementary gym, how relieved I was that the house lights kept me from being able to see anyone sitting just beyond the three point line. I couldn’t tell whether anyone liked it or not, it just felt good. Sure part of me, a fat awkward 10 year old part of me, wanted the rush again. Maybe it was the fat 10 year old that wrote such a juicy wet suit part that I couldn’t not take it. And I did look the part of a douchebag[3].

Since, I’ve rolled through most of the footage and it’s OK. I’m neither as bad or as good as I thought I’d be. I’m not nervous about putting it out there anymore, but I’ll be glad that I can’t see your immediate reaction.

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[1] As high as you can get without hair below your eyebrows.

[2] It was a simpler time.

[3] Why do you think douchebag needs to be spell checked? Does Massengill not exist in Seattle?