I’ve been eluding to my acting debut somewhat recently, and have been receiving many questions from friends and talent agents alike. Perhaps it is time I just came clean about my impending thespianism. And all the necrophelia. But I’ll just stick to the silly play for the time being. It’s called Don’t be Afraid of the Dark and was written in the early 90s by a guy named Tim Kelly. Here is the official synopsis from my copy of the script:

“Weird playwright Sebastian Sly, author of such all-time bombs as Dial M for Morose, The Cat and the Canard, and Ten Little Ninjas, lives in a creepy old mansion called The Shadows. His arch enemy is the clever, but snide, drama critic Sylvia Frye. She hates stage thrillers and with her ruthless reviews, has forced Sebastian into retirement. In revenge, Sebastian invites her to his home where all manner of chills and thrills are trotted out to convince her she’s wrong about his work. We meet an hilarious “cast:” The murderous Creeper; an old actress noted for her shattering screams; a butler named Skull and a housekeeper named Bones and that’s just the beginning. Two likeable innocents, Zip and Lilac, show up and are terrorized by the insane goings-on. Ultimately, Sylvia exposes the plot. But Sylvia gets hers in the end!”

So which one of these ridiculous sounding characters do I play? What persona will be my first foray into the acting world? None of them. I play a stupid cop who shows up 2 or three times, scratches himself and looks for the escaped mental patient. The scratching admittedly was my idea, and the very flexible director has excitedly encouraged me to stop it immediately. But I got some laughs last night during the first real rehearsal, and I think I can make it funny and memorable. Right now I’m working on this whole Puddy meets Ace Ventura thing which I think will work.

My audition went something like this: My co-worker Sean – “You look kinda like Vincent D’Onofrio and I think you could play a big stupid cop in this play my friend is directing.” Dave – “Thank you?” After the tragedy of yesterday, there’s a new opening, afterall. I just didn’t want anyone to think the spectre of Lee Strasberg had visitied me in a dream or anything and told me to stop wasting my life at my current job. Because my father tells me that enough for the entire cast of Thir13en Ghosts.

The schtick will run March 19-21 (5 performances) at the Improv Asylum in the North End, and all proceeds will go to the North End Music and Performing Arts Center of which I am now apparently a supporter. I’m also now officially a member of the ACT 1 Players. Tickets are $10 and I’ll provide more details to anyone who’d like to come closer to the date. It’s a great group of fun people, and I’m having a scary but educational time. We’re looking to make this as funny as possible, and we’re working with an experienced director with whom I’ve become fast friends. You may just enjoy yourselves if you decide to stop by. May.

Today Canada is in the process of electing (by all poll indications) the first Conservative government in over 12 years. I elect not to talk about politics too much on this blog (see what I did there?) but it’s no secret whom I’d be voting for were I still living within the borders of the Great White North. There’s a special place in my imagined hell for Carolyn Parrish, Paul Martin and the rest of the thoughtless backhanded critics who’ve been tarnishing relations left and right. And by thoughtless, I of course simply mean I want to see them all die in a hotel fire.

That having been said, I’m probably whistling Dixie here (or maybe whistling Dundas) because none of my American readers know the first friggin’ thing about Canadian politics anyway – and this is one of the reasons I like Stephen Harper so much. He loves him some Yanks, and all the embarrasing anti-American commentary coming out of Parliament for the last decade is hopefully at an end. I am an Ameridan and I cannot vote in either country at the present time. I want the kids to play nice, as I’m torn between them like a gay cowboy with kids. The only thing most Americans can tell you about Canada as of late are the ridiculous statements they’ve heard from her pinkish politicians. And that they never lock their doors and have all been taught to stalk and kill polar bears with whalebone hunting knives.

Most Yanks, bless them, will also be able to tell you that Canada is up North somewhere and there are apparently lots of fish, trees and French people. Listen, my fellow (sorta) Americans – stop wondering whether or not you’re going to see a sasquatch the next time you visit downtown Toronto, and read up on what’s happening there today. It’s about to get very interesting for the first time in painfully polite ages.

After 12 years in power, Monday’s election saw Paul Martin’s Liberal Party scrambling for last minute vote-getters. We will have to wait until tomorrow to see if new mascot ‘Lucky the Healthcare Greyhound’ made much of a difference.