I saw it when I was about 12. And I didn't know what it was. I was at Epcot Center, a pair of Street Performers, asked a crowd what story they would like to see. Joan of Ark was the one picked. Then the two actors proceeded to use audience members in the title roles, using whatever lines the actors from the audience created. It amazed me. How could they do that? How could they act out a play without having a full script?

Years later, I was in New York flipping through Backstage, an actor's trade paper, and saw that Chicago City Limits was offering an "Introduction to Improv Course" for a price I was willing to pay. I went over to 60th and First Ave on a Saturday morning and met Elliott Lipsey, the Improv Nazi (my moniker, not his), my first Improv teacher. The classes were held in a tiny studio apartment above the theater. Elliott looked like a homeless guy who had access to a shower and washing machine, but no ironing board. He was caustic, and tactless, and demanding. He refused to accept that the dry erase board didn't require spit to erase the words. He cussed constantly. He instructed that you must obey three simple rules of Improv. And you must try harder every class. There was no plateauing. He set the bar way out of reach and dared you to jump for it. He did not relent on people who wouldn't push past their fears. He weeded out 3/4's of the class. Once, I got him to crack a smile and chuckle slightly; I felt like a comedy god. By the end of that first course, he had four people that were absolutely dedicated to learning Improvisational theater. I was totally hooked. I took two more courses and then auditioned for the Touring Company. And I was rejected.

I feed the hungry. Walk old ladies across intersections. Rescue kittens and resuscitate them mouth-to-snout if need, or if not. I discovered when you blow in their noses they make this weird honking sound, and it makes me laugh every time.

I have a lot of free time. Some days, more than I care to have. I would rather be doing something than nothing. I do a lot of nothing. I am caught between being always open to go on an audition or a gig at a moment's notice and having those moments be so few and far between.

I work at a job that requires no creativity and no interaction with the public at large. The pay is mediocre. It's part-time. But I do get a free meal every day that I work. I have yet to find a creative job that pays well, yet allows me the flexibility to be an actor. Anybody? Creative work where I can take pictures or mix sound or film things or write commercials, but it is flexible enough that I can go on auditions or take Thursday and Friday off to work on an Acting job?

In Shaun of the Dead, the second day he goes to the convenience store and slips in the pool of blood he is completely oblivious to. You don't see it, it is just suggested. Subtly. Perfect.

Or the snowball fight in Dumb and Dumber.

Or when Niles and Frasier, open a restaurant and they have to serve eels and all hell breaks loose and Daphne grabs....she grabs the...and smacks...it...cutting board...and Niles...and boom...oh, God...that was a funny one.

In real life, it would be when I was working for a convention company. I was at a convention that had a slew of military officers and NCO's. A lot of drab green and cache and blue. Shiny bars on collars. Crisp lines in the starched shirts. Polished shoes. Very formal and rigid people. The Military Brass. Big Wigs. Then they rolled out a cooler of ice cream into the middle of the convention floor. Free ice cream for all. Suddenly a single file line of tittering and giggling boys and girls in starched uniforms and shiny shoes formed. They fidgeted. They licked their lips. They were trying desperately to see what their choices could be. When they got to the front of the line they couldn't decide. They had all reverted. Even the Generals had become six years old again. The power of an ice cream sandwich was greater in that moment than the Military.

Or, more low brow, when my buddy Richard does this lazy eye thing when he plays the electric guitar...holy cow...that's funny.

No, I am newly single. Back on the market. And I am easy, ladies...Easy like a Sunday morning. You could know me in the biblical way for a cup of coffee and a smile. That is just for my lovin'. My heart cost more. It would take a Blueberry Muffin or Banana Nut bread to win my heart. Ohhh...a big fat Cinnamon Roll with tons of glaze--and hot coffee--and you have me forever.

To win my heart? She would have to know herself yet still be curious and learning. She would be smarter than me, or funnier, or better an some way or all ways. She laughs easily. She is cool, laid-back, doesn't sweat the small stuff. She is an artist of some sort. She has the heart of an adventure. She is kind. She believes in the ancient concept of dowries and has a large one with many camels or comparable livestock; and gold.