7th Heaven needs a little Kevin!

Three weeks ago I tried out to be on the WB. That's right, cheesy old Kevin Paget from Orlando, Florida, tried out to be on the network with teen pop icons like James VanDerBeek and SMG (Sarah Michelle Gellar, to those not in the know). It all started on a blustery summer... no wait, it was fall (I get confused living in Florida). It was a fall night.

Fade in: Some friends are having a drink in a bar/pool hall. Guy number one tells guy number two (me, of course) that he is going to try out for an open casting call at Universal for the WB. "What?" I sputtered out, mouth agape. Something this magical has sneaked into my backyard unbeknownst to me? I must be slipping in my old age. Naturally the first thing I did was finish my beer and order another. The next day I figured out my plan of attack.

Is he too tough for Buffy?

A quick assessment of my acting talents lead me to realize that I have none. Frankly I make Pauly Shore look like Robert DeNiro. I took two acting classes while I was at NYU, so I figured I could fake my way through it. After recruiting a sixteen-year-old girl who works with me to be my reading partner, I printed up a copy of the Dawson's Creek audition script and began my method actor training (by method actor training I mean not looking at the script until the night before my audition). With a little luck and the few brain cells I have left, I managed to memorize my part of the script. (Sample dialogue: "I can't keep you through some kind of emotional blackmail, Joey!")

Cut to: That fateful Saturday. It was a sultry morning filled with... oh hell, it was freakin' hot and I had to wake up at 6 AM. I picked up my underage partner and we were off to Universal, to make me the star I ought to be. We arrived at 7:30 AM, registered, and waited on the Disney-esque line for three and a half hours as miles of people lined up behind us. I practiced my lines, schmoozed with the other would-be actors and sweated profusely. I began to notice that everyone else in line was a 13-year-old girl, even though the audition was an open call for ages 13-35, male or female. I was one of the few, the proud, the men auditioning for the WB. It was like an N'Sync performance at the local roller rink: I was swimming in a sea of hairspray, pink braces and giggling.

Kevin's got me Charmed!

As the day inched forward I started to wonder why I wasn't getting nervous. I get nervous getting up to use the bathroom on an airplane. I should have been petrified about auditioning in front of all those people, for the job I've dreamed of ever since I found a network with teen shows that spoke to me! And, boom, just like that, I made myself more nervous than a ho in church.

We finally got to the actual audition area and I prepared to dazzle all the WB bigwigs with some serious acting. Only there weren't any people to dazzle... just a guy with a camera and a light so bright it singed my eyebrows. My partner sat behind the camera and started to read. I cleared my throat and started to say my first line. I quickly realized that I sounded like I had fallen out of the puberty tree and hit every branch on the way down, but with my voice cracking like old vinyl, I continued. I stuttered my way through the script, skipping lines and butchering dialogue, the bright camera light melting my brain. When I was done humiliating myself, I stumbled into an elevator and left Universal.

He'd be so Popular.

Now that I think about it, I wasn't that bad. The caliber of the acting on WB shows rivals that of NASA chimps (I mean no disrespect to NASA chimps). If the WB needs another actor with poor delivery and no stage presence, then I'm their man!

It's been three weeks and I'm still expecting a call telling me I'm a finalist. I'm sure you're thinking, "How could you audition poorly and expect to be called back?" Let me explain -- it's a little thing called style over substance. I'm one of the unfortunate ones born without that acting chromosome. But I more than make up for it with style! I'd be perfect as the cute, mute boy at Capeside High. Or I could be the mysterious loner who never says anything at UC Sunnydale. Or maybe the coma patient that Felicity decides to nurse back to health as part of her community service for getting caught smoking crack. You get the picture. I can't act, but I can probably stand there and look good. So, I'm sure that any day now I'll be getting that call. And that quiet character you'll see lurking in the background looking angsty on some teen pop WB show... that will be me, Kevin Paget.
--Kevin Paget