The Year I Became a 1980s Business Dad

planes, trains, and attitudes

Last year I acquired regional representation for acting, which has brought me towards many jobs that are shooting in the southwest, mainly in Austin. I hadn’t traveled too much for work before this, other than filming Islands Without Cars yearly, but in the last 20 months, I have spent nearly 5 of them working out of town. I know this because my husband made sure to count up all the days and tell me.

I’ve become accustomed to breaking the news of my pending departure at the dinner table, usually met with tears and tiny fists pounding the table, hollers of NO!!!!! Mommy NO. JUST STAY!!!!! It’s kind of amazing to have such intense reactions to simply not being around to cook for them and play with them and cuddle them for a few days, but I’m learning that kid days are akin to dog years.

In 2024, I booked 11 commercials (25 avails, or “You’re on hold for the job because it’s down to you and one other person and oops, sorry, the other person actually booked it”), 2 TV shows, and 1 short film. Most of those shot outside of LA, because the film industry in LA is in serious crisis. I didn’t intend to become a 1980s Business Dad, but here I am, with a functional carry-on and a dopp kit (80s Business Dad terminology for toiletry bag) packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice!!!!

{Me, to my family}

The potential eroticism of the liminal space that is the airport is so whisper-thin, any man-made breeze can blow it right over. The other day, I boarded the plane to Austin and sat in what I thought was my seat, as I always select the aisle option, when a handsome floppy-haired man I had noticed reading a Kazuo Ishiguro novel at the gate loomed large over me, darkening my phone screen with his shadow.

“Not to be a bitch, but that’s my seat,” he said in a weird, surly, nasal tone.

“Oh, sorry,” I fumbled, grabbing my stuff and scooting over to the window. “Yeah. You really are a bitch,” I said, which I meant to say in a warm, laughing tone but due to the flight attendant speaking over the loudspeaker at the same time and the whoosh of the air vents and me mumbling it, came off as what I can only describe as disturbed aggressive. It was out of my mouth too late and he wasn’t looking to see my smile, so we both had to sit in its aftermath next to each other for the next 2 hours, him somehow winning the whole bitch exchange.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that his breath smelled horrible when he exhaled next to me (-15 points) and further delighted to see him go so far as make the flight attendant go get him a cup of coffee even though it wasn’t on her cart, but on the cart at the other end of the plane (-10 points). I, the WPB (Weird Plane Bitch), on the other hand, said I didn’t need anything at all from her, as I had filled my water bottle pre-flight (saintly, +10 points). Two hours later, we disembarked without having acknowledged each other whatsoever.

After my fitting in Austin, I took myself to pilates and then to the movies (is there any greater, more beautiful freedom????) to see The Friend, an adaptation of the Sigrid Nunez novel I really enjoyed during Covid. I think it’s the only (good) movie for adults about a dog? There was a point in the movie where the woman behind me worried for the dog’s fate.

NO!!!!! she cried out, and then we could all hear her sobbing, intaking huge heaves of breath. When it turned out to be okay, with the dog, at that point, she heaved out a sigh of relief. Why did they DO THAT TO US???? she tsked loudly to her (doubtless also dog-loving) partner. The credits rolled and the whole crowd was in sniffles, men and women to my left and right wiping their eyes with popcorn napkins. I went to the bathroom afterward to see if my eyeliner had run down my face the way I assumed it had (it had).

That movie is doing its job: convincing more people to get dogs, I heard a man say to his date. I disagree as to that purpose ascribed to the movie, but for the first time in my life I found myself aligning with the dog-reluctance of Naomi Watts's character. Every time we see a puppy on TV my kids cry out, why can’t we get a puppy? Or just a dog that will PLAY with us?? They love Mabel, but she’s almost 14 now, and has never fetched a thing in her life. I can’t imagine having to deal right now with more than I already am. Adding a dog who has behavioral issue or really does anything more than simply lie around all day?? There is just so, so much to do already, every day. The kicker is, before the holidays, Tyler and I had decided to get a puppy in January. The fire, shall we say, extinguished that life plan. If, however, anyone has tips on having an incontinent 14 year old spaniel, I’m all ears. These rugs are rented.