Over the rainbow

Print auditions are always in some place far, far away -- usually on the West Side, usually in some half-vacant warehouse district -- because that's where the affordable space with good light suitable for photo studios is, I suppose. 

Today was the farthest ever. When Grand Street -- an otherwise perfectly predictable East-West artery for most of its inhabited length -- starts jogging northwest, you know you're not in Kansas anymore.

The other thing that's not unusual about these castings is for one or more of the photographer's associates to snap your photos. Especially when you go to the places where the photog goes by one name and has giant portraits of Michael Jordan and Princess Diana and other celebrities that he's shot on his walls.

But, again, today took it up just a notch. I swear the girl who took my picture was maybe 14 years old. I think. I've gotten in trouble before misidentifying women's ages, but when I do it's usually on the high side.

Anyway, that was odd, but I googled the photographer and found his portfolio and he's clearly legitimate (and good), so we shall see about that. The stack of headshots was 6 inches high by the time I got there, I was 10 years off the range for the two characters I come closest to, and I had less than 4 hours notice ... but my agent said she was sending me anyway because she "thought they might fall in love" with me.

And you know what? On these longshot deals, sometimes that's all I need to hear.