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Showing posts from February, 2011

All in a Week's Work!

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Actors, by trade, are a funny sort.
And is it any wonder? For long periods of time there will be no work, dry spells that match the breath and width of the Saraha. And then, in the blink of an eye, a tsunami of work bombards us, and we're hustling our butts from Santa Monica to the Valley to make auditions, rehearsals and costume fittings.
Last week, Michael was the recipient of one of those tsunamis. (The checks have already cleared so I know it wasn't some other sort of tomfoolery.)
First he played a fireman (as if the costume wasn't a dead giveaway) in a commercial for some sort of iPad like product. Handsome, no?

Certainly, you'd want him to put out your fire. And for those of you wondering if he had to shave his facial hair for the fireman, he did not. His smooth skin had nothing to do with that gig. No, he shaved for his second job playing a tranny hooker...

This was for Childrens Hospital, Rob Corddry's show on Adult Swim. Michael played Modesty, his actual dra…

The House of Choice

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My mother-in-law is Choice. Now, that's not code for something. Not some nifty, new-fangled way of saying dope or all that. Although you can tell I'm far from dope since I use words like nifty and new-fangled. Choice is her given name. Choice Lee to be exact. And if you think there must be some interesting family story as to why she's Choice, you'd be mistaken. Choice is Choice and that's all there is to it.
For Christmas we went to Michael's hometown of Alton, Illinois, which is just across the Mississippi from St. Louis. Most of Michael's family lives there, in fact, Choice still resides in the house in which Michael was raised.
Now, I've done my share of traveling, and I figure outside of San Francisco, Los Angeles, New York, Chicago and Paris, major bastions of metropolis and culture, Alton, Illinois is the place I've spent most of my life. It is the antithesis of the cosmopolitan hustle and bustle I'm accustomed to. What can I say about Alto…

Dear Whoever at Disney,

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Dear Whoever at Disney,
Please forgive my impertinence, however I can hold back no longer. First let me congratulate you on the success of The Wizards of Waverly Place, your kid show about a family of wizards who live in New York. Well, family of wizards is not really accurate, is it? You have a wizard of Italian descent who is married to (I'll borrow from Harry Potter) a Muggle of Mexican descent and they have three half Italian American, half Mexican American, partial Muggle, partial Wizard children, who constantly get into trouble with their rudimentary knowledge of magic. (Congratulations on those Emmy wins for best children's programming.)
Yesterday, it happened again. My husband, Michael A. Shepperd, a man you have hired many times, was recognized. It happens all the time. We're at my son's school, or getting a frosty treat at FroYo or chowing down at El Grande Burrito on Santa Monica, and some six to sixteen year old with goo goo eyes will ask Michael, "Are…