My naive visions of what getting Keagan into baby modeling would be like have been plucked from the clouds, brought down to Earth, dragged in the mud, and then handed back to me. Today was Keagan's first "audition." We drove all the way into South Boston (so first off, that means we spent $2.50 in tolls, probably $10 in gas, and two hours in the car) this morning to wait line in a hot, crowded studio for an hour and a half to have 3 pictures taken before the attendant yelled "Next!" I was overwhelmed from the minute we walked in the door, and so was Keagan.
Let me back up and take you through it. Luckily, the studio offered great directions and we miraculously did not get lost. We did, however, spend 15 minutes driving around the block to find a parking space (as my first attempt involved a yellow line on the curb). We walked a block in the rain, and then up 3 big flights of stairs before seeing a line out the door of the studio. Someone in line says "oh, you have to go up and get your form before you wait in line" and I thank them and fight past the line into the studio to get a form. I'm told to fill it out and then come back to the table for a "height and weight check". Oooh... that sounds fun. The lines for both the pictures and the height and weight check are next to eachother with not nearly enough room to negotiate moving in between. By the time we find the line for the height and weight check, Keagan is looking around (and hearing sporadic screaming of children who freak at the picture taking) and saying "Bye-bye, bye-bye". Oh boy. At this point, I'm sweating like a pig, and fight to get our coats off. I explain to Keagan that we won't be here long, I know it a little scary, and we're just going to get our picture taken and leave. He is placated for the time being. I shove our coats into the diaper bag... coats... wait... where's Keagan's coat? We fight through the lines again to find I had dropped his coat, so we pick it up and go back to the end of the height and weight line.
Once confronted with stepping on the scale, Keagan refuses. I mean, kicking and about to throw a fit, refuses. Luckily, the attendant just said "that's ok, just give me an estimate"- my thinking is, he's not the first one to refuse the scale. After finishing that, we take our form and fight back between the lines to fine the end of the picture line. Thankfully, we end up next to a really nice mom and her son who is taller than Keagan, but only 18 months old. We become line buddies. Keagan was much happier to be in the line, out in the hall, and away from the craziness in the studio. So we sit for awhile and eat some crackers, play with a truck, and slowly scooch forward.
Upon observing a bunch of the other moms and dads with their children, I am beginning to wonder if I want to be associated with these people. There's the mom who looks like she herself is having a Glamour Shot done and her daughter is in a fancy party dress (Keagan was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, FYI). There's the mom would started getting all uppity about line-cutting and that she was there first, and "what's the number on your form, if you're supposed to be ahead of me". Then, my favorite, the mom who's son (Keagan's age-ish) is repeatedly blocking the already narrow space for people to get through, yet she does nothing to help other than "come here ___", and then he decides to throw fish crackers all over the hall and she half-heartedly picks up a few of them, leaving the rest for all the other parents to negotiate not letting their toddlers pick up. I don't think this is really my kind of crowd.
As we get close to the end of our waiting, Keagan is again getting antsy and I try to show him the other kids getting their pictures taken so he knows what to expect. He thinks the little cart the photographer is strattling so she can quickly move herself back and forth on the set is really fascinating (anything that resembles a truck!). Finally it is our turn and I am told to put Keagan down on the piece of tape on the floor. He's surrounded by white curtains and flash umbrellas. He does NOT want me to be out of arm's reach. I was very proud of him for holding it together, though, and once they told me it was ok to stay right next to him we both relaxed a bit and he even may have half-smiled for one of the shots.
I'm on the fence about my feelings with the whole experience. But if we get a callback, I can't say we wouldn't go.
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4 comments:
I had sweat dripping down my back just reading about your day! Good luck, maybe you will get a call back, then it won't be as crazy, I would think? Ya' gotta love those moms who just say, "Johnny come here" or "No-no Johnny" but never actually act on the request!!!! I would have wanted to shove the crackers from the floor, all squished in my hands, into her purse!! But you must remember, her child is the most perfect and she is probably the best mom in the world! :) Yeah, right! Let us know what happens!!! Kristin
I know, the stereotypical "stage parents" can be off putting but there really are some nice people in the business. My daughter started at four months old and she's now six years old. I met some parents at go-sees and on jobs that to this day, we still keep in touch. Not all go-sees are cattle calls, sometimes you'll go in and there'll only be a few kids waiting. Each audition is different. Good luck on your call back!
Oh poor Lamb and Keagan! That sounds like a dreadful experience. I remember my Mom dragging me to a couple of those things in NYC when I was around 6-8 years old and them being exactly as you describe - hot, uncomfortable, crowded and impersonal. It's crazy to think how many moms there must have been in that building that have been trying to make money at this for years with no success. You really have to stop and think "why am I doing this when my kid could be at home playing with his toys, perfectly happy?" Remember that episode of 90210 when Brandon's parents admitted he got recruited to play professional hockey at age 10 and they turned down the trainer and never told him?
Sounds like a blast! Is it really worth it?
Lisa, Arnold & Charlotte
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