THIS NEARLY WAS MINE

The only thing worse than not being part of this
was if it happened outside my building.

 My wife had just left for the gym when she sent me an urgent message: They are shooting on York between 89 and 90.  It looks big.  You may want to check it out. 

Out of towners would mistake such a text for a gang war breaking out. You
know, New York. Even on the Upper East Side.

But no, this was more serious. It was heads-up that a TV or movie production was currently in progress five blocks away. And as such, was an exciting yet bittersweet event for our otherwise sleepy neighborhood.

Exciting because it's always cool to see lights, camera, action just around the block. And if the lead actors are visible to the naked eye, so much the better. Bittersweet because, as I stood there watching the background actors waiting for their cue, dressed for late autumn on a 70-degree morning, I was thinking wistfully, Ah yes. I was once one of those folks gaped at by spectators like prized specimens at a human zoo.

Now, I was part of the rubbernecking throng asked to cross the street. I could've nudged the person next to me and confided, "Y'know, I've worked on this. Not as glamorous as you think. Even this show, And Just Like That. Oh yes, I was on the set with Sarah Jessica Parker -- twice! Yup, just as nice as she seems on TV."

Had I known this was my swan
song, I'd have wiped that stupid
smile off my face.

Due to different factors -- new casting agents looking for new faces, aging out of certain parts, regular visits for blood work interfering with my weekly (or daily) schedule) -- my last gig was May 31 as a Rally Goer on The Night Agent. 

By then, I had gotten to the stage where I was mentoring newcomers. If the camera was tracking behind us, I'd tell them, OK, here's how we're going to do it. When we reach our marks, we turn to each other and pretend to talk. That way, the camera will see our faces. 

Cheap ploy? If you insist. All I know is that when the episode airs, the woman I was paired with will probably be grateful for the advice. There I am! And I owe it all to him! It's what I was born for.

Not the selfie I expected that day.

Two weeks after that job, I was getting my first infusion of platelets, in what I thought was just a hiccup in my schedule. I thought wrong. Having to cancel a few gigs over the next month due to unexpected medical appointments, when my platelet count was dropping faster than the box office take of the new Joker movie, I realized I had to take a sabbatical from background work until my doctor finally got the med dosage and injection schedule to such a state where I was no longer semi-tethered to NYU Langone Ambulatory Center in Midtown East. It could, I was informed, take up to six months.

I cancelled my Casting Networks membership and made myself unavailable to Central Casting for the foreseeable future. It wasn't easy, after eight years (six and a half, if you subtract covid and strikes) of work. 

It was a poignant moment indeed on the corner of 89th and York to start walking home just as the P.A. shouted, "Background! Action!" All that was missing was a camera, pulling back to a wide crane shot as I disappeared down the block, unnoticed, unrecognized -- dare I say unloved? -- in five takes to justify the budget.

Moments after returning home, I received another text from my wife as she was coming back from the gym: I saw Sarah Jessica Parker. Bathing in reveries of past gigs, yet accepting my fate, I bucked up and replied with the emotional maturity that comes with living three score and eight years: Hah! I WORKED with Sarah Jessica Parker!

How soon they forget.

                                                       ************