A New Goal

Late Saturday night, I came to a sudden realization: I need to be an actor. Not just any actor. I need to be the most amazing actor who ever lived.

I’m serious about this. I’ll have to go to one of those top-notch acting schools and learn how to method act. When my teacher tells me to be a chair, I will become a chair. People will walk by and admire my exquisite craftsmanship. And when someone tries to sit on me, I won’t collapse from his weight. I’ll remain sturdy, yet surprisingly comfortable. And why? Because all that time, the only thing I will be thinking is I’m a chair. I’m a chair. I’m a goddamn chair.

After a while, when someone told me to be a chair, I wouldn’t just crouch down and look like some moron with his arms sticking out, I’d become a fucking chair. Not just any chair, a really nice chair. Maybe something from the Herman Miller collection. Oh, I know, an Eames lounge chair. Yeah, if I’m gonna become a chair, I might as well become the king of all chairs: the Eames lounge chair. Charles and Ray really knew what they were doing when they came up with that one: stylish, versatile and oh so comfortable. Of course, the ottoman would be a pain in the ass to pull off. But I think I could do it.

Once I really had it down — I mean, really had it down — you know what I’d do? I’d walk into one of those modern-furniture shops on La Brea avenue and just turn myself into an Eames lounge chair. Eventually, one of the sales people would notice me and go ask the manager why they had an extra Eames lounge chair in the showroom. She’d say she didn’t know anything about it and the sales person would say that she didn’t order it and then they’d call their supplier and ask if he accidentally sent it. But the supplier would say that it wasn’t on his books. Eventually, someone would get fired over it and it would all be because of me.

Weeks would go by. Thousands of asses would sit on me every day, each one testing my acting ability and my endurance. Until finally, one woman would just walk up and say that I would be the perfect addition to her sunken living room. She wouldn’t even sit on me. She would pay top dollar for me and then some underpaid workers would pick me up and wrap me in padding for shipment.

And even when I was in that padding, I would not break character. I would remain a chair. A really cool chair. They would load me on a big padded truck and drive me to the top of the Hollywood Hills. There, I would find my new home, on the top floor of a five-story house, positioned comfortably on a white, shag carpet. Oddly enough, no one would ever sit on me. I’d just be there as a showpiece, to look at and admire.

But this would not be the home of just any rich woman. It would be the home of a big-time Hollywood producer. And one day, while they were all sitting on their white leather couch, admiring my beauty, I would slowly break character and become myself again. Of course, this would scare the bejeezus out of them. But eventually, they would start to calm down.

After everyone changed out of their soiled underwear, they’d come upstairs and have a chat with me. “That was amazing,” they’d say. “I had no idea you were just a man. I was convinced for these past four months that you were a finely crafted Eames lounge chair.”

Of course, this would lead to many starring roles in blockbuster films. And after a while, Lorne Michaels would call me up and ask me to host Saturday Night Live. And I’d be like, “Saturday Night Live? Are you fucking kidding me?” And he’d be like, “No, I’m not fucking kidding you. Do you want the gig or not?”

So, yeah, I’d take the gig, and I’d have a blast rehearsing with the cast. Mia Rudolph would continue to hit on me (despite the fact that I didn’t know how to spell her name), but I’d turn down her advances. I mean, she’s pregnant, for godsakes. And then the moment I was waiting for all my life would come: the photo shoot.

They’d hire some amazing photographer to take these incredible pictures of me, super stylized with a little humor thrown in. They’d use them for the commercial breaks. But of course, they’d give them to me after they were done. Seriously, you can’t get photos like that from just any photographer. You need a real pro. And if that means I have to study acting for years and take the form of an Eames lounge chair for over four months, damn it, all I have to say is, “What color upholstery would you like?”

Comments 18

  1. nelita wrote:

    Just reading random blogs and came across yours. KUDOS! I was so laughing out loud, my son was looking at me like I had finally lost it. Your blog was so convincing, that I almost felt the urge to sit on you. LOL Good stuff. Hope you have a wonderful week.
    Nelita

    Posted 11 Oct 2005 at 5:17 pm
  2. Smivey wrote:

    Thanks, Nelita. Glad I could entertain you for a moment or two. Plenty of other mindless writing in the archives.

    Posted 11 Oct 2005 at 9:18 pm
  3. Beltane wrote:

    Dude. If you want photos like that just run around naked on the street corner and I’m sure someone will oblige.

    Damn, didn’t you already do that?

    Posted 11 Oct 2005 at 10:37 pm
  4. JeN wrote:

    And if/when you do make it to the big time, can I be your date on the red carpet? : p

    Posted 11 Oct 2005 at 10:55 pm
  5. Eroticfae wrote:

    When you make it to SNL will you send me tickets? I don’t even like SNL. I just think you’re funny.

    EF.

    Posted 12 Oct 2005 at 2:40 pm
  6. Lani wrote:

    I loved it!!

    I totally understand that not breaking the character is important.

    I say, go for it! Be an actor. Maybe we can act together and star in our own hit series called…”Everythingsucks, but the LJ Hour.”

    :)

    Posted 12 Oct 2005 at 5:11 pm
  7. kris wrote:

    When chairs break, is that just the actor breaking character?

    Posted 14 Oct 2005 at 12:42 am
  8. nels wrote:

    Hey, how did you get your comments to appear in a page with the same color and type scheme as your blog? My Blogger comments popup in an ugly Blogger window – with the complete blogger graphics. Dang.

    Posted 18 Oct 2005 at 4:43 am
  9. - bob wrote:

    you as a chair would be fun to see.

    do you have a friend that does the classy desk?

    Posted 27 Oct 2005 at 2:00 am
  10. boredhousewife wrote:

    oh, I’ll be your desk, Smivey…

    :)

    (no, I’m not asleep yet…at least I don’t think so….)

    Posted 28 Oct 2005 at 1:51 am
  11. Ross wrote:

    How will you eat if you’re a chair the whole time? If you break character to raid the refrigerator, you risk getting caught and blowing your cover!

    Posted 23 Nov 2005 at 4:17 am
  12. Smivey wrote:

    I would not eat because a chair does not eat. That is what method acting is all about.

    Posted 23 Nov 2005 at 6:56 pm
  13. C.S.D. wrote:

    Since the holiday season has begun I have become quite plump and soft. I could be your cushion…

    Posted 12 Dec 2006 at 12:00 pm
  14. Smivey wrote:

    Sounds like a plan, C.S.D.

    Posted 12 Dec 2006 at 12:16 pm
  15. Norton wrote:

    See, I’d be a settee. I think I’m more of a settee.

    Posted 30 May 2007 at 10:31 am
  16. Smivey wrote:

    Pish posh! Settees are for amateurs. You can’t become the greatest actor who ever lived by becoming a mere settee.

    Posted 30 May 2007 at 10:48 am
  17. Norton wrote:

    yes,you can. There are no minor roles…just bad actors.

    Posted 30 May 2007 at 1:07 pm
  18. Norton wrote:

    Or is it no minor furnitures… just bad imitations… okay I don’t know what I’m talking about.

    Posted 30 May 2007 at 1:08 pm

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