Antonio Cayonne | Actor

Out of Control - Tuesday July 28th 2015

Antonio CayonneComment

I should have titled it a Loss of Control. I could go back and change it, but I like the double meaning of both 'being out of control' and of 'doing something out of (the need for) control'. Either way, the title stays. 

I had a funny moment yesterday. It wasn't funny ha ha. It was gee this make me feel funny. Funny not good and funny not laughing. But not not funny like kids thrown off a rollercoaster. In fact, the re-telling of the story leaves little to find funny or upsetting. So what's funny about it in truth, is that nothing happened and it still made me feel that way. 

The benign tale is of going to an audition, on the North Shore, which may mean nothing to anyone not here, but it's kind of like having to go the old Degrassi studio in Toronto, but further and more obscure. I went there for an audition, with CDs I'd only seen once. I got there early, hoping to get in and get out. They have a reputation of being on time and prompt. And I had to get to work. I got there at 235 for a 330. Ambitious. That's on me. It was packed. That happens. It was behind. That happens. I got in and out at 445 because the audition was that quick. But worth it. 

I called a cab. It showed up 20 minutes later, because not only are we in Vancouver, we are on the North Shore. The driver then proceeded to try and talk me out of taking a cab. It's really far. It's busy. There's traffic. Maybe the seabus is a better option. Transit. He actually said transit. For what it's worth, we 'argued' for 10 mintues. It took us 20 minutes to reach our destination. 20 minutes. 10 minutes talking me out of the long, arduous journey ahead. 20 minutes to get there. 

At one point, he asked (for the fifth time) if I was sure I wanted to go now because traffic was bad and the highway (it's not a highway) was busy, and I said 'I'm not from here...I think I hate it here'. It was at that point that he thought it was best to just drive me where I had to go. Seriously though, that was the moment. Stuck on the North Shore, at the mercy of someone who felt it was too far, too expensive ($25), too much time, to drive me to my destination (ie. do his job), I had this not so profound reality that this place makes me crazy. In small ways. Because I want a city. I want noise. I want hustle. I want want. I want ambition. I want passion. I want the rollercoaster. And I'm tired of looking at mountains. 

And I was frustrated in that moment, because everyday I wake up and wonder if I'm becoming like this place. I'm not, I don't think. But I think about it. 

I'm not trying to shit on this place. I do that easily enough. That's fine. It's simply my truth. There is a lot to love, and there is a lot left to be desired. I'm not trying to sway anyone or anything. Come see for yourself! Beauty abound. 

But in these moments, I just want something honest. Something that makes it clear that being here pays off. That this leap isn't still a freefall. That I've landed and can run. Because days like this, I think, I leapt and may have misjudged the distance to the ground.