"It says here you're transferring in from Eureka College, but I don't remember you auditioning for me."
"Oh, God," I thought, "here it comes, one day at Wesleyan and out."
"I auditioned for Dr. Tucker," I managed to squeak out.
Again came the glance over the glasses.
"Are you any good?" he asked in a flat tone of voice.
Am I any good? Am I any good? Am I any good? The question ran through my mind, careened off the back of my cranium, and stuck somewhere between the left and right hemispheres. Alarm bells sounded in my ears, my left brain shouted to the right, "Dive! Dive!"
This was a trick question, of course. No, this was the trick question of all time. If I say yes, I'll be branded as cocky; worse yet, a troublemaker. If I say no, how could I be worthy of IWU's acting program? I'd been voted best actor at Eureka, but it was a very, very, small school. He peered up at me, I lamely smiled down, and said, "I'm pretty good."
"Then you'll never make it," he said.
"Mr. Hogan," the good doctor confided, "you've chosen the most competitive, difficult, demanding, infuriating, and vicious way to try to make a living on earth and if you're not really good, then, you'll never make it. See you in class."
The truth sometimes hurts but it's always the truth. Now, after 25 years of making my living as an actor I realize Dr. Ficca left out one, important fact. The most competitive, difficult, demanding, infuriating, and vicious way to try to make a living on earth, is also the most fun.