It took me awhile to see you, recognize you, as the taxi driver whose car breaks down in that commercial for something or other where the guy who picks you up drives really fast. I don’t know what the commercial is for- nor do I care. I hate commercials. Even though I was born with a natural ad man’s wit- I abhor advertising. Sure sure sure, I venture there is merit in it somewhere, it did bring us the wonderful show Mad Men, yet outside of that, it leaves me angry. It muddles attention spans and convinces the masses that they need useless harmful things to be complete.
So, you may be able to imagine my surprise when I was struck by your goofy grin in a commercial. It took me awhile to place you with your name and even longer for me to try and say your name out loud. I still have not mastered the pronunciation, you’ll have to forgive me for that. Once I realized it was indeed you, after a rare middle of the night viewing of Young Guns, I cannot shake my concern. What happened? Why are you hocking some such thing?
An ex old friend’s husband (long story, clearly) once said, “everyone needs tires for their truck.” It became a statement we would use when we wanted to see an actor do something, i.e.- “I wish Casey Siemaszko needed tires for his truck.” Is that what happened? Did you need tires for your truck?
I looked you up on the new fangled internet site IMDB, only to discover that you have been working consistently since way back when until 2008. I apologize for missing the bulk of your canon, I will set to renting or borrowing or on-demanding some of your work. Right now, however, I merely want to know why. Has it been a hard dry year since the last gig in 2008? Are you no longer a practicing Zen? Why Casey, why?
It isn’t that I haven’t enjoyed seeing your face, though a tad scruffy. And it isn’t that I wish you without a job. It is just that I have such high hopes for you. I want to see you turning hollywood on its heel by your promise and charisma. I want you to have more than you need from film roles with depth and pushing the boundaries of television’s iq. This has been a wish of mine since the eighties when you would appear along side obvious stereotypical leading men- whatever the hell that means. I could see you were different and hoped you had depth and that one day your time to shine would come and I would be there telling everyone who had just discovered you, “I knew. I told you so.”
Perhaps I am too much of a champion for the underdog, the underrated, the unnoticed. Perhaps it is my lot in life to support the true yet overlooked. I can live with that. But you, Casey, you in commercials- that has me stupefied.
Courteously,
sm
