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| Perfect, just the way he is. |
I have to tell you that I've been very hesitant to get my child involved in the dream-crushing, often sordid world of child acting. Yes, I happen to live in Los Angeles and I moved here to pursue my own (failed) acting career, but I made that choice as an adult, it was not made for me by my parents when I wasn't even old enough to talk. I have nightmares that getting Noah involved in the industry at a young age is going to set him on the path to a future not unlike Lindsay Lohan's, and any of our future quality time together will be provided through family day at his rehab center. That being said, I do find the idea of putting some extra money into his college account appealing, and I did push him out of my lady parts without any pain medication, so he kind of owes me one.
And so, having come to grips with my conflicted feelings towards Noah's potential modeling/acting career, I dressed him in a cute hipster outfit, took a deep breath, and went to the open call. I know that many of my readers do not live in LA and therefore have never experienced the particular horror that is an "open call". This is basically a two hour window where parents can bring their kids to meet with an agent in the hopes that their child will one day be the next Justin Beiber/Selena Gomez/etc. I'm making a gross generalization here, my friends, and I hope you'll forgive me for it, but I'm pretty sure that the majority of the parents whoring their kids out at this open call were doing so to fulfill their own dreams of stardom. I can't tell you how many of the mothers looked like aging Pageant Queens complete with pancake makeup, push-up bras, and revealing outfits. Also, I'm not really sure what made some of these people think that their kids could be models, but I guess it's just proof that love really is blind. Needless to say I did not fit in with this motley crew of parents. Do I want my kid to become an actor? No, I really don't. I pray that he wants nothing more than to be a doctor or a lawyer or something normal and stable and that comes with benefits and 401K.
So there we are, at least 50 kids and their parents shoved into a small room waiting to meet with the all powerful Mr. Agent Man. Thankfully, it moved pretty quickly. People's names were called, they went in and came out just a few minutes later either smiling or frowning. At one point I heard some parent shouting at the agent that he didn't know what he was talking about and then mother and daughter rushed out of the office cursing loudly. Finally, it was our turn, and Noah was presented to Mr. Agent Man and his colleagues. After taking a digital photograph of Noah (who posed and smiled, as he always does), the Three Horsemen of the Agent Apocalypse conferred amongst themselves. And then they began to critique my son: too thin, only has three teeth on the top instead of four, not sure how much demand there will be for his hair color, the smile is too cute so it doesn't look genuine, etc. I sat there holding my beautiful son listening to these people list all the things that were "wrong" with him, and I started to understand why that other parent cursed them out. I stood up, thanked them for their time and gathered my things to leave. Mr. Agent Man said, "don't you even want to know if we want to represent Norm?" I replied, "His name is Noah, and no, I don't."
Honestly, no amount of college money is worth my son spending his childhood being treated like a piece of meat. He is perfect, simply by virtue of being a kid. He has plenty of years ahead of him to hear about what is "wrong" with him, and I want to protect him for as long as possible from the pain of knowing how he doesn't measure up. Let one of those other parents push their kid towards potential stardom, I'm going to urge my kid to get into Entertainment Law. Hey, somebody has to handle the DUIs for all those screwed-up child stars, and it might as well be Noah Kai, Esq.
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