Waddling in too deep

I'm a bit anxious this weekend. In fact, I had a hard time going to sleep last night. Among all the activities this weekend (Nico's 3rd birthday, General Conference, Battlestar Gallactica season premiere) I'll be stepping just a bit outside of my comfort zone. Apparently, I'm going to audition for NBC's "America's Got Talent."

I wasn't going to do it, initially. But I must have filled out the form anyway. Then I received the email invitation telling me my audition time was on Sunday between 3:00 and 6:00. Now, I didn't feel right about doing it. We try to teach our kids to honor the Sabbath, and so I prayed about it asking for direction. Of course, I felt reaffirmed I shouldn't do it on Sunday, and felt better about it once I made the decision to not audition.

Then yesterday, I got a phone call from someone working for the show, asking me if I would be at my audition. I apologized, and said I couldn't make it on Sunday. Surprisingly, he asked me if Saturday would work instead. I had no idea there was more than one day, so I agreed, hoping that I wasn't making a mistake.

Most of you are probably not (or only partially) aware of my well-hidden "talent" and its history. It all started a long, long time ago. Like 1985 or 1986. I was in sixth grade at the time, and one of our family holiday traditions was to play cards (we being my grandparents, mom, and sometimes my then little 5-year-old sister). We'd play 500, Rummy Royal, and eventually Pinochle, as well as other assorted games. Being the near-teenager I was, I tended to say some things off-the-cuff while playing cards that weren't always 1) well thought out, 2) nice, or 3) appreciated by my elders. However, I had also discovered an out. If I made everyone laugh, I wouldn't get into as much (or any) trouble. The best way I found to make them laugh (particularly my mother) was to talk like a duck.

Not too long after I started this, my mom encouraged me to see if there was anyway I could use this (for lack of a better word) talent. So, our first idea was to find a puppet. I can't fathom how we succeeded in doing this without the use of the internet, but we got extremely lucky. A fellow sixth-grader's (whom I secretly had a crush on at the time) dad had opened up a novelty store in the new mall at the north end of town, which just happened to have a very limited supply of puppets. One of which was technically a goose, but looked enough like a duck that it would work. Originally, there was a small solar panel in the mouth of the puppet that was connected to a broken "voice box" that was supposed to enable the duck to "talk" on it's own. I took that part out, and what remained was the original "Ducky."

My first performances were likely terrible. I think I did something for the Sons of Norway Christmas party, but have no real memory. But I experimented a bit, eventually learned a couple of jokes, and solidified a routine. My first real good show I remember was for the local 4-H (hey, I grew up in rural Minnesota, what do you want from me?) county-wide talent competition. I had trouble trying to come up with a name for the act though, so I simply put down "Nothing Special" because I couldn't think of anything good or clever. It was my first show on a real stage (at the high school) in front of more than 100 people. Somehow, I ended up winning. The caption for my picture in the local paper the next day was "Nothing Special is Something Special."

The next few years had me performing for the Junior High and High School talent shows, local rotatory groups, local church groups, and even some funky festival all the way over in Mazeppa, MN (how they found me, I'll never know). The biggest and most intense talent competition I was a part of was with the FFA (Future Farmers of America...don't ask). I ended up taking second place at the state level there (behind someone with genuine talent, I assure you), but still got an invitation to perform at the National FFA Conference in Kansas City. Back then, there were apparently a lot of aspiring farmers (or they let the public in), because I performed for a crowd in excess of 10,000. At the time, it seemed like a big deal.

Eventually, my duck was getting a bit worse for wear. My grandparents however, knew a seamstress who thought the idea of making me a new duck puppet was quite the challenge. The kind soul only charged me for the materials. In order to make the new duck, she had to take apart the old to make a pattern. At the end, I had my old duck back together, and a brand new one to boot. This one is still in good shape, as it did not see nearly as much usage.

Toward the end of high school, I had stopped doing performances as often. Perhaps I had worn out my possibilities (believe me, in Albert Lea, that's not hard to imagine). Possibly it was because I didn't really come up with much in the way of new material. I did some new things, but nothing ever really clicked with audiences. I had a couple performances in college, though it was mostly just the same old shtick and a new audience to eat it up. After moving to Nebraska, I only did it one more time for an actual audience (which happened to be the night I met Aaron Janssen). Now, it's only family gatherings for the kid's entertainment that the duck ever comes out.

So, I'm a bit nervous. I'm out of practice. I'm no longer the funny, scrawny kid who talks like a duck. I just hope I'm not the desperate, mid-life crisis guy trying to recapture my youth who talks like a duck.

Carma, ever the great consoling friend, asked me "Why do you want to do this?"

I'm not sure. I know going in I'm not going to win anything. I'm not trying to prove myself. I guess, if there's anything I want to accomplish, it's just to have a little fun, and perhaps make my kids proud of me. But then, can't I just do that at home? Maybe to set an example that you should try new things? I just feel like I've been given the opportunity, and I should go for it.

Anyway, I'll try to keep everyone apprised if I am able (you know, they make you sign all those non-disclosure things). But if I make the first cut, I could actually be recorded and televised. Who knows. The second round for NYC is April 9-11. If I make the next cut, then things would get interesting, as it goes to Vegas.

But, to get that far would require me coming up with new material.