The 10-Minute Micro On-The-Go Workout

Fri, 26 Nov 2010 12:48:34 -0600

If you’re like me, your calander for the rest of the year is litered with gut-busting holiday parties, shopping days and at least 2 more routine-busting trips to [Michigan] to see the family... on top of my regular meet-ups and general lack of motivation, my active summer body is fading as fast as my tan.

This quick, go-anywhere workout is scaleable for most people’s abilities. My gymnastic coach gave it to me as a low-impact workout to do between days of training. At 57 years of age, he does 200 reps of each of these exercises 5-days/week. Which, in addition to his flexibility work, leaves him able to still tumble and breakdance. Since you don’t overextend yourself on any movement, this is a great way to keep yourself going even if you’re on the sidelines do to injury. For instance, when the tendonitus in my right shoulder from kayaking acts up, regular pushups are a nightmare. Micro pushups, however, don’t put the strain on my shoulder. Don’t take that to mean that you won’t feel them, because you will. The starting position for each movement begins with the muscles already engaged. The micro-movements concentrate the force on the deep muscle tissue. Because you are continuiously engaging the deep muscle fibers throughout the exercise, you’ll be getting a quick cardio workout as well.

Directions: Each exercise should begin with the muscles already engaged. The “micro” movement is quick and the range is about 3 inches. Do one set of each exercise without stopping to rest between exercises. Complete the circuit a total of 4 times, resting for 30 seconds between each circuit. Adjust the number of reps to your ability.

4 x 25 Micro Pushups
Begin in the down position of a classic pushup. Keep your elbows tucked into your sides.
4 x 25 Micro Squats
4 x 25 Micro Crunches
4 x 25 Micro Oblique Crunches
4 x 25 Side Crunches
4 x 25 Superman Extensions

The First Agent

Wed, 10 Feb 2010 11:56:37 -0600

Each voiceover demo CD was painstakingly burned on my MacBook Pro and carefully labeled with my collage of Buenos Aires’ Recoleta rooftops at dusk (the same from the main page of my blog) using an at-home labeling kit purchased from Office Depot. I lovingly placed each of the 50 disks in a slim jewel case, inserted a calling card, stuffed each one into a post-consumer recycled newsprint envelope (Just to prove how green I was despite the 1,000 years the enclosed CD would take to disintegrate.) and pasted on a mailing label, “Attn: New Talent”. For the top 10 Chicago agencies, I even went so far as to include a creamy-colored notecard, hopefully handwritten in cursive, no less. To the 75 or so agencies who would accept digital submissions, I emailed my demo and a headshot for good measure.

After years of classes, private coaching, countless hours of practice and a few thousand dollars invested, all I could do was sit back and impatiently wait for the offers to roll in. Only, they didn’t. In fact, I didn’t hear a single word beyond “Return to Sender” for an entire month. Finally, a call from one of the digital submissions, Acme Talent. They had a “puppy mill” reputation, but hey, I was thrilled that someone, anyone, had called.

To the initial interview, Ms Acme instructed I bring 20 voiceover demos and a headshot, not to the West Town address on the website, but rather, to a new location in Humboldt Park the owner emailed from her Gmail account. Upon arrival, I was a bit thrown off because I had come, not to a professional building, but to a residence. It was a nice enough two-flat, but something was off. Did I write down the wrong address? Were masked men waiting to beat me up and rob me? Despite my doubts, my desire for a voiceover agent was even greater, so I rang the bell. After several moments my fear dissolved when a sweet grandma-like voice answered, “Acme Talent” and I was buzzed in. I should have left when I had the chance.

I entered the home into a small sitting area with an old green leather couch and a mustard-yellow wall full of more headshots than I cared to count. The room opened to a kitchen blocked by a knee-high safety gate from the long hallway beyond. The musty stench of urine filled the air and its sources could be heard barking somewhere in a closed up back room. I was greeted by an elderly gentlemen in a bathrobe as he shuffled into the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and invited me to take a seat and wait until I was called. I sat and began studying the abundance of below-average headshots on the wall. The dogs continued to bark and I continued to wait to be called. Called to what, I could only guess.

After nearly 30 minutes of fighting the urge to simply stand up and leave, an elderly woman came into view. In the same grandma voice from the intercom, she informed me that the agency owner, her daughter, was sick she would be meeting with me instead. Past the doggie gate and into a small bedroom-office in the back of the house we went. Upon review of my demo and headshot, she asked me to read an excerpt from Death of a Salesman aloud, which was recorded on hand held tape recorder. “We will represent you.”, she said and proceeded to reveal the fee schedule. It involved several hundred (the exact figures I do not recall) for demo and headshot reproduction, fees to have my demo, resume and headshot posted on the website and fees for the company to recoup marketing costs. I thanked her for her time, said I would inform her of my decision soon and took my leave.

Now, at this point logic would dictate that this is not a legitimate talent agency. Everything I had read advised against paying someone for representation. Not to mention the other obvious issues with the place. But then, when has a starving artist, living ‘You, Me and Dupree’-style in the spare room of his married friends’ place, ever been logical? I wanted an agent, damn-it! So, later that week I call the owner to discuss the fees associated with representation. I told Ms Acme that I would handle my own headshot and demo reproduction and that, while I desired a web presence with them, I did not have the budget to pay for it. “No problem”, she said,”we’ll post your profile and take the fees from your first job.” What did I have to lose?

In all, I must have sent a dozen emails containing my demo and resume to the web designer’s Yahoo address. Not a single response. The only response that came from Ms Acme was, “The web designer’s mom is in the hospital... indefinitely.” It was obvious that without my money in hand, there was no motivation to add me to their site. I finally gave up when I called two month’s later to find the number disconnected and website down. Maybe Ms Acme decided to open a doggie daycare funded by would-be talent’s lost dreams.

Feeling hopeless after the first agent experience and with no word from any other agency, I decide to take a break from my “big break” into voiceover work and go down to Costa Rica for awhile. After a month of giving kayak and snorkeling tours at a hotel in Papagayo, I was refreshed. It was time to give it another go. Inspired by an expat travel-writer I met, I tried a different tactic - freelance.

It’s been almost a year since the Acme Talent ordeal. Still no “big break”, but I now work steadily as a freelance voice actor. There has been one break, though. Remember those 50 demos I sent out? It seems one agency liked it and kept it for almost a year before they had an opening in their roster. I now regularly read auditions (in an actual recording booth, no less) at my new voiceover agent’s office. No fees, no handheld recorders, no bathrobes. There is, however, a farting dog. We like him well enough though.

Six Reasons to Live

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 17:34:17 -0500

I recently read a statistic that said, on average, SIX or more people are deeply affected by each specific suicide. "Deeply affected" meaning the majority of them may never fully recover (That's not to mention the tens and hundreds of people each of us know.) These six people, multiplied by the over 1 million suicides each year in the world, means that over 6 million will probably spend the rest of their life wondering "why" they felt like they could no longer live this life, "how" they didn't recognize the warning signs and "when" will the pain ever go away?

The answer to that one is inevitably never. Sure, it might dull over time, but those six people will never again be the same person they were before a loved one committed suicide.

Let's pretend that you're the one contemplating suicide; think of who those six people would be to you. Maybe it's your mother or father, your brother or sister, boyfriend/girlfriend, best friend, classmate, teacher, coach, guidance counselor, or maybe somebody you haven't even had the chance to meet yet.

Fast forward to a year after your suicide. Picture your mother of father doing the routine grocery shopping It's a warm spring day and after months of therapy, they're finally beginning to feel like life isn't over. After getting all the groceries, your mom/dad is standing in the check out line waiting for their turn. Behind them is a young mother with a toddler who keeps insisting on running off. This toddler happens to have the same name as you. The young mother calls after her rambunctious child. Your parent's throat closes and their heart begins to race as that false hope returns that maybe, even for a split second, it would be you behind them instead of the little kid. Of course it isn't, you're dead. Now imagine the returning heartbreak your parent must be experiencing, as it once again hits them that you're truly gone.

What about your little brother/sister? It's their first day of junior high and the teachers all make them fill out the standard "About Me" questionnaires. Your sibling is breezing through them all, quickly scribbling down the same answers they've been using since first grade. That is, until they reach the question about siblings. Their eyes frantically dart around the room, wishing to make an emergency exit. What do they put? Do they write nothing and pretend like you never existed, or hope that there's enough space to explain how they once had an older brother/sister, but not anymore. What about when they grow up, and they have to explain to their children why they don't have an aunt/uncle?

Onto your best friend, the one you've grown up with since you were 4 years old. You thought she would be okay without you, but you were wrong. She keeps only to herself because nobody else could possibly understand what she's going through. Her other friends ignore her because they don't know what to say or act around her now. Imagine graduating from high school and your best friend is sitting in the middle of the crowd, hiding beneath her cap as she silently cries. The seat next to her is empty, and she knows who was supposed to be there; you.

Finally, the person you might not have met yet. "How will they be affected if I'm dead? They don't even know me. They won't know that I'm gone." You're right, they don't know you, and they won't feel your absence...yet. My father took his own life when I was 7 years old, in 1987. Each person with whom I share my father's story is touched. His death continues to affect thousands of people he never met... over 20 years later.

You see, with all these examples, all lives are connected. You can't just take one person out of the picture and expect life to carry on like nothing is wrong. No matter how minuscule you might feel in this world, you have touched infinite lives simply by existing. Whether you realize it or not, there are tons of people who care about you and whose happiness depends on YOU. Life may seem like more than you can handle sometimes, but you never know when it's going to turn around. Only time will tell, and in order to do that, you must allow yourself the gift of living.

In the meantime, there is ALWAYS help available, all you have to do is reach out for it. 1 in 5 Americans will suffer from depression in their lifetime, so don't ever think that you're alone. Above all else, you shouldn't be ashamed of asking for help. People care and want you to LIVE. Even if you don't feel like it's worth it, do it for those who love you. People kill themselves to get rid of the pain, but pain doesn't end with suicide. Suicide only intensifies the pain in the people that are left behind. I'd like to leave you with one of my favorite Reliant K lyrics; "Live your life for those that you love".

Not alone,
Jacob Daniel Moore
www.NoStigmas.com

The NoStigmas Mission

Thu, 18 Jan 2007 17:45:24 -0600

Approximately 2,000 people took their own lives on 18 January 1987; Michael Daniel Moore was one of them. He left behind a wife and three children ages seven, six, and three. He was neither a bad nor a stupid person. He was a person in pain and saw no other way out. He was my father. I was given Daniel as my middle name in honor of him. Though I need no reminder since I feel his death every day. Even now after twenty years, through me his death has touched you too. My mission is to ensure that 20 years from now our children and children’s children will not have to be affected as we have been.

This is why, on 18 January 2007, I began NoStigmas as a grassroots movement to raise awareness and erase the stigmas of suicide and mental illness. To impact individuals with fresh ideas promoting the NoStigmas message of hope. Since over 1 million people die by suicide each year (over 33,000 in the U.S.), there is a "no apologies" approach to making sure people know how much suicide impacts us all. Our message is important to every individual and needs to be conveyed in an exciting and energetic manner which affirms life and inspires the courage to speak up!

With your help, we can build a community of survivors and stigma erasers. By bringing people together through this common cause with stories of hope, poetry, photography, art and other types of media, we can break the chain of silence. I charge each of you with the task of telling your story and spreading the word about NoStigmas. A suicide attempt is made every minute of every day. Don't let another day go by!

Not alone,
Jacob Daniel Moore