Okay.

To all you people who believe that you can move up to New York and “make it”, be advised: you most likely can’t.  And “Grease: You’re the One That I Want” isn’t what happens to people in the business.  Some jock out of New Jersey who has NEVER sung before doesn’t get put through to the final auditions because he has “star qualities.”  And if you’re 42, you’re NOT gonna be Sandy on Broadway.  And if you’re 300 lbs and 16 years old, don’t cry and say that you carry yourself like you’re, you know, like, 20 or something.. because YOUR MOM TELLS YOU THAT ALL THE TIME.

In short, I have close to twenty friends who have moved up to the Big Apple to “make it”.  Two of them work regularly.  TWO.  And one because he fits a niche and he works it, hard.  He doesn’t get to be the ingenue.  He doesn’t get to be the lead.  But he’s damn good at his niche. 

It pisses me off to watch that crap on tv.  I’ve done dance combos more difficult in Christmas Carol auditions.  I’ve sung better in kareoke bars.  I’ve seen more talented people on street corners, and I’m angry that we’re lowering the standard for tv.

Granted, this TV show IS bringing visability to a struggling Broadway.  It is making people interested in musical theatre.  Maybe a whole new generation of kids will become inspired to move to New York and wait tables.

I should stop now, because from across the room, Bryan asked why I was pissed, because I was “typing angry”.  Coming tomorrow: things we learned about eachother this weekend.  I know; you’re excited.