I'd love to spend more time,
but I got so many things to do.
I got work to do.
I got work, baby.
I got a job.
— Ronald, O'Kelly,
& Rudolph Isley, 1972
It's been a good while since I've worked a 9 to 5. And I ain't gonna to lie to you — it's been pretty sweet doing absolutely nothing for over a year, now. Well, not exactly nothing. I have been keeping myself busy with my art and film career. But now I've reached that point where I'm good and ready to work again. I guess you can say that I miss that daily routine of punching a clock. The word must have circulated around town that I was back on the job market, because a couple months ago, Nevena, a good friend of Sarah and I, shopped my resume through her job at SAP, the largest software enterprise in Europe. It turned out SAP liked what they read and invited me to come in for what would be my very first office job interview in Sofia. I was thrilled and more than interested to see what it would be like to work an office job in a foreign country. And not just any foreign country, a foreign country called Bulgaria, where everyday feels like living on another planet — compared to living in The States.
My phone interview with SAP went well. The female caller seemed excited about me coming in for an in-person interview. But when I arrived, I was quite surprised at how things turned out. On the day of the interview, I arrived on time, clean, and pretty sharply dressed in my opinion. SAP was located in a huge building that took up about a square block. An attractive and friendly receptionist greeted me at the front desk. We chatted for a bit when suddenly the ring of her desk phone interrupted us. It was the call for her to escort me upstairs to start my interview. After a quick elevator ride to the 5th floor, where an empty conference room awaited my arrival, the friendly receptionist wished me well and said that she looked forward to having me aboard.
I wasn't nervous at all. Not one butterfly fluttered inside my stomach. I guess it was because my telephone interview went so well, that I figured they would hire me just like that. So as I sat at the conference room table, as if my feet were propped up on it, with the utmost confidence you could imagine, in rushed a frazzled-like HR woman who quickly introduced herself without a handshake and oddly sat down on the very far end of the conference table. She hurriedly shot me a ton of questions in that usual robotic-like HR person manner. Most of the questions were business related, but some were the usual personal ones you get asked on a job interview when you are new to a town or city. Or in my case, a country. My favorite one is always, what brings you to Sofia?
Toward the very end of my sporadic-like interview, the HR woman made the astonishing discovery that I was a designer and not a software developer, which was what she claimed they were looking for at the moment. Bewildered, confused, and highly annoyed, I used everything I had inside me to keep from asking her the obvious question; lady, why in the hell did you fail to read my resume before I came here? If she'd simply read it, she would have saved everyone some time. But I kept my cool. For one, I didn't want to burn any bridges. And two, it was my friend Nevena's work place.
On a positive note, the HR lady did offer me some helpful advice in looking for another gig. She gave me an address to a useful Bulgarian job search site and told me that HP (Hewlett-Packard) was another good English speaking company to shop my resume through. She also added that HP is one of the only two (including SAP) English speaking companies in Sofia, but that the turnover in these companies were pretty rare. A statement that Nevena would later contradict. And on close examination, it seemed like her helpful advice only added salt to my wounds.
I walked out of SAP's glass doors with my head hung lower than a sunken rag.
A few days later, I decided to give up the design job search in Sofia altogether. For one, that ridiculous SAP interview had left a bad taste in my mouth. And two, I remembered that I'd already made up my mind back when I was in DC that I would never work in the cut-throat office job environment again and start teaching art in the education field. But unfortunately, here in Sofia, even the school teaching possibility seemed bleak for me. I started developing this bleak outlook about finding a teaching job in Sofia about a year ago after I interviewed at the Anglo-American School, one of the three American based private schools in Sofia. Oh, and don't get me wrong, the interview at AAS went pretty well. They even hired me to work as a substitute teacher. The strange part was that they never called me one time during the entire school year to come in and substitute. Yeah, I know, it's pretty funny. I guess no one got sick for the entire school year, right? That really sucked and was a huge disappointment for me. Sarah was pretty awesome during this frustrating time. Whenever I talked about the school not calling me in to substitute, she'd just say it was their loss. I think my girl from the north country was on to something. And you'll soon find out why in a minute. Anyway, that little episode convinced me to give up the teaching search altogether and try to focus more on my art, acting and traveling Europe.
But you know what they say — just when you stop looking, that's when you'll find. But in my case, I was the one who was found. You see, at the tail end of August, my favorite month of the year, my luck in the teaching field changed for the better. I finally landed a dream job teaching art and dance at the English American Academy. But before I go into details on how all this came about, I think I'd better fill you in on some important events that happened in 1984. Events that changed my life and aided in my getting my dream job. So put on your old acid stoned washed jeans and shoulder pads, tease your hair up and grab that old bottle of jheri curl juice from the very back of your shelf and come take a trip back in time...
It was the year that Big Brother was supposed to be watching. And if he was really watching, then he would have surely witnessed unfortunate mishaps like Vanessa Williams getting stripped of her Miss America crown or the invention of the Apple Macintosh computer. And if he was listening as well, then he would have heard the best rock and roll album ever made in 1984, Prince's magnum opus called Purple Rain, and the shocking news report of the tragic death of Marvin Gaye. But if Big Brother had his eyes glued to the freshest kid on the streets, then he would have also seen how street dancing reached an all time creative peek in 1984 — thanks to a new art form and culture that emerged from the 1970s called Hip-Hop and a former member of The Jackson 5 who wore just one sparkled glove.
And don't get me wrong, street dancing made waves long before 1984. For instance, the emergence of proto hip-hop dance groups like The Lockers, featuring the late great Fred "Re-Run" Berry and Toni Basil, the aforementioned Jackson 5, and Shalamar's Jeffrey Daniel, the inventor of the moonwalk, by all means certainly took street dancing to new heights and gave the art form some much needed exposure in the late 1970s and early 1980s. But make no mistake, there was no year before or after that gave street dancing more exposure than 1984.
No one can deny that the highest peak of street dancing came with the arrival of ultra-breakdancing crews like the New York City Breakers and Rock Steady Crew, the theatrical releases of dance oriented movies like Beat Street, and Breakin', and the groundbreaking-earth shattering release of MJ's Thriller video. That year, street dancing made the biggest impact on popular culture, forever changing the minds of highbrow critics and societal views that street dancing was a mere passing fad. The impact of street dancing in 1984 would forever change my life and the world over.
In 1984, at the ripe age of 13, there wasn't a day that went by when I wasn't downstairs in my mother's basement trying to emulate the latest street dance moves I saw on TV. After about 6 months, I finally perfected my craft. I quickly became a devoted member of two of Washington DC's finest music and dance groups that gave me my first taste of performing in front of a live audience. I instantly fell in love with the stage.
My first group called Break Force, originally named The Soda Poppers, was a family affair. The group featured two sets of three brothers from two different families and cultures. The first family, of course, was my own. It featured me and 2 of my 8 siblings, Carlos and Jamie. The second family lived next door to us. They were native Vietnamese, consisting of brothers Truong, Trong and Vu Nguyen. To not confuse the two brothers of the same sounding name, we nicknamed them Big and Little after their different heights. Together these two families made-up the original Break Force line-up. And together, we ruled the DC b-boying battle scene. We'd destroy any other breaking crew who dared step foot into our path. Heavily influenced by the New York City Breakers' style and line-up, each member of Break Force specialized and perfected one break move that they could perform in battle. I was the crew's gymnastics boy.
While still an active and dedicated member of Break Force, the irresistible influence of Michael Jackson and New Edition made me try my hands at singing. So me and four of my best buddies — David, Tony, Billy, and Alvin — from junior high school, formed a five part vocal harmony and dance boy band called New Nation. We performed at local talent shows and shopping malls a couple of years before Tiffany or Debbie Gibson adopted the idea. But unlike Tiffany or Debbie, the path to fame and fortune passed us by like a lost hitchhiker in the night. But it didn't matter to us. We still performed just as hard and even recorded a couple demos. We tried to keep it so professional that we even hired ourselves a manager and started up a fan club!
Being a part of both of those groups were some of the happiest moments of my life. As long as I live, I'll never forget those days. Anyway, I'm sure some of you have already figured out by now how this trip down memory lane played into me getting a teaching gig. But for those of you who haven't figured it out, yet — stay with me. I'm getting there.
You see, it all came about when I was invited out for another one of them Karaoke nights in Sofia. This time my invitation came from my boy Mark, founder of the Cedar Foundation — a Sofia based charitable organization for the disabled. You might remember Mark from Episode 17, he was the dude who gave me some good advice on Xena's blue plates. During that faithful night of Karaoke, Sarah away visiting the States on business, so I was flying solo when I squeezed myself inside a tiny karaoke bar packed with lots of folks wanting to show off their best karaoke impressions. And thinking back now, it was kind of strange how things turned out. My original plan was to take a back seat this time and enjoy everyone else's performances. But my ever-so-present celebrity status prompted a handful of the girls to come over to me and insist that I perform a song. I guess to them, I must have looked like I could sing or something. I resisted at first, then after a few more requests I said, "Sure. Why not?"
When I got on stage, I requested a song you just might be familiar with called "Billie Jean," a hit single by the aforementioned former Jackson 5 member who wore just one sparkled glove. I'd performed the song many times before, receiving cheers and applauds each time — but that night my performance felt different. Almost like the spirit of MJ — my biggest influence and inspiration, not only on stage, but in life — was right there by my side performing with me. At the end of my performance the crowd erupted in applauds and I even got a standing ovation. It all took me by surprise, actually. I mean, I think I do a pretty good MJ imitation, but not worthy of a standing O!
After the applauds ended, I took a bow and whispered into the mic, "that was dedicated to my fallen King." A little something I started adding to each MJ performance since he passed away over a year ago. But this time when I whispered it, an uncontrollable tear fell from my eye. I was surprised that even after a year of his passing that it's still hard to hold back the tears. I guess my girl Madonna was right, I still miss him more than ever.
Before I could return to my seat, Mark approached me looking quite impressed. At that time, we'd only met once or twice in passing. So in that thick Irish-Cork accent of his, he shyly told me, "I loved your MJ performance, man." And being that Mark is a big rugby playing Irish dude, his sweet gesture sounded a bit funny coming from of his mouth. He then politely asked for my cell number and if I'd do another MJ song later. With no hesitation I said, "Sure. Why not?"
Unfortunately, the place shut down before I could perform another MJ tune, so everyone hit the road. Early the very next morning, I got a phone call. When I reached for my cell phone next to my bedside I noticed that it was Mark's name flashing over the phone's monitor. My first thoughts were, come on dude, was I really that good? But after speaking with him and hearing the enthusiasm in his voice regarding my performance, I started to became slightly convinced. Especially after he invited me to his home for a mid-day barbeque with a request that I perform some MJ tunes for his kids, who, like me, were also huge MJ fans. For a second, I was a bit reluctant to say yes to his request. But Mark has one of the warmest and friendliest personalities I'd ever come across in my life, so it was hard to say no. Besides, after learning that his kids, who were all under the age of 6, and no where near alive during Michael's reign, I was anxious to meet them. So I said, "sure. Why not?"
So that afternoon I spent the rest of the day entertaining 3 adorable kids and chomping down on barbeque steaks. Toward the end of the evening, Mark asked me the million dollar question. He said, "Owen, would you like to teach Hip-Hop dancing at Sofia's American English Academy?" I was a bit surprised at first because the question appeared to have come straight from left field. But then everything started to become apparent to me. I'd suddenly realized that maybe his inviting me over was kind of a semi-teaching-test to see how well I interacted with kids. So I smiled and responded with an inquisitive, yet hesitant, "perhaps." Then asked him to tell me more about the school. I guess my hesitation was stemming from a little reluctance I had about teaching Hip-Hop dance. I mean I had absolutely no formal training, education or experience in teaching it. Then right then and there, the word experience jumped out at me like a grasshopper in a meadow. I thought to myself, if anybody had the experience teaching hip-hop dancing, I would be one of the most experienced and qualified of them all. I mean, I was right there during the start of it all in 1984. So after Mark finished explaining more about the school, he asked me once more, "so, are you up for the job, Owen?" I raised my head up high and said, "sure. Why not?"
Besides, I had an alternate plan in mind. You see, when Mark told me that the school had no upper level art program, which, by the way, should be a crime for any school not to have in my opinion, I figured once I got inside, I'd try to convince the school's director to start one up. So during my interview, I mentioned my art background and how attending a visual and performing arts high school saved my life. My words must have been quite convincing. Because the next day they signed me on to teach 9th and 12th grade upper level art as well as Hip-hop dancing. I couldn't believe that I was actually on my way to punch that 9 to 5 clock, again — and this time doing what I'd always wanted to do in life.
That evening I went home and did a few rounds of my happy dance and my heart was warmer than ever before.
I could go into further details about the last 2 months of my first teaching experience, but that would take up another episode or two. No joke. So instead, I'll just tell you that the whole teaching experience has been like a dream come true. And don't get me wrong, I have my good and bad days. And everyday is a challenge. Dawn, my one and only sister-n-law, who teaches 4th grade elementary, recently described the daily routines of teaching as starring in a one person play. She told me that, "you have to know your lines and have all of your props ready. Then you perform. And at the end of the day, you get ready for a new play the next day!" Dawn, all I can say to your statement is no truer words have been spoken. That's really how I feel each day before I go in to work.
I'm also finding that there are a few things I like and dislike about teaching. One of the things I like is having the opportunity to teach at the American English Academy where there's an international student body. It has been a wonderful experience so far being able to share my extensive knowledge of art and hip-hop history to kids from all over the world. For instance, I recently got a kick out lecturing about James Brown. Surprisingly, the majority of the class had never even heard of the late Rock and Roll pioneer, so it was a huge thrill for me when I showed them clips of the Godfather of Soul performing live on YouTube. They were quite surprised to see how many dance moves The King of Pop had borrowed from The Hardest Working Man In Show Business. And on the art history side of the coin, it was also surprising to find that the majority of students in my Art 101 class had no idea who Edgar Degas was and of his incalculable influence on modern day sculpture. Thankfully, and coincidently, Degas' entire catalog of sculptures, including the Little Dancer Of fourteen Years, are on display in Sofia for the first time, so I quickly arranged a field trip for the students to give them a first hand glimpse of the master works of one of the founders of Impressionism.
Some of my dislikes, or things that I will never get used to, regarding teaching, is running into my students on the streets or shopping malls. There's always this awkward feeling about it. And usually I can tell it's a student even before I see them, because out of nowhere I'll hear someone shout, "Hey, Mr. Owen!" Just the other day when I was in a shopping mall restroom literally using the public urinal, right behind me was this little dude no more than 8 years old who started shouting to his dad, "Hey dad, look! It's Mr. Owen!!!" I guess you can say, since I've been teaching, I've become a all new kind of celebrity. Sarah told me it gets worst, too. During her teaching days, she once she ran into some of her students in a night club. Yeah, that would be too weird for me.
Some other dislikes I have about teaching are giving out grades. I always feel that the student can do better, so I tend to cut them some slack during grade giving time. But the thing I dislike most of all is attending those parent/teacher conferences. Those conferences always make me feel like the enemy in the eyes of the parents who really don't want their child learning anything about art or dance, instead hoping they become doctors or lawyers. And I can always pick out parents who feel this way through their body language or shortness in conversation.
Okay, I already know what you're thinking. You're thinking to yourself, how in the world is Owen making out with trying to remember all these students' names at one time? Well, believe or not, the kid is doing alright. Well actually, I did have some problems remembering names during the first week of school. But I came up with a smart solution. But let me tell you how it came about. You see, I went in on my first day thinking it would be no problem remembering these students names. I only have 20 students in my Art 101 class and 10 in my Hip-hop dance class, so I thought to myself, "that's not too bad." But after calling a kid named Tom, 'Patrick' or a girl named Sue, 'Lucy' — I found that the students, especially the females, don't take too kindly to me screwing up their names. They were giving me all kinds of dirty looks that said, you idiot, get my name right! So after a few more screw ups and dirty looks, a great idea popped into my mind one night. Since I am a visual person, I came up with the genius idea to use last year's school year book that the director gave me on my interview as a study tool. I matched the students names with their faces and studied each and every one until I got them all right.
The next day in class, I was more excited to take the day's attendance, rather than teaching the day's lesson plan! I called each student's name out in confidence and got every one of them correct. I was so proud of myself. Unfortunately, none of the students realized all the sweat and hard work I had put into remembering their names, so my all of my hard work went unnoticed. Oh well, I guess that's the life of a teacher. So I'd better get used to it.
With a recent fourth movie role to add to my list acting credits, I am now starting to believe that even if I had never landed my new teaching gig at the American English Academy, I'd still have my acting career to fall back on in Sofia. You see, a month after getting adjusted into my new teaching gig, I got a call from the casting department over at one of the local film studios telling me that I landed a small role in an upcoming SyFy produced movie ironically called Supertanker. The irony is, if you recall just a few months back in Episode 14 , my third film role also had a 'super' title attached to it, one called Super Eruption.
In this new Super-titled movie I play the part of a wise-cracking reporter who ironically runs an internet news blog. In my last 3 film roles I ended up being eaten alive by 200 zombies, ripped to pieces by a giant Morlock, and boiled to death by a geyser, so although I only had 3 speaking lines in this film, it was somewhat relieving to finally play a character who doesn't die a horrible and tragic death. I was also relieved to not have my hair cut this time. Jeffery Lando, the director of Supertanker, said cutting my 'fro wasn't really required for the look of a wise-cracking Internet blog reporter-type. Awesome news for me!
Although I only had a day of shooting on the set of Supertanker, it was still another awesome learning experience for me. The cast for Supertanker included Callum Blue (The Tudors, The Sarah Jane Adventures), Jon Mack (Saw VI, Introducing Dorothy Dandridge), Atanas Srebrev (Submerged, Undisputed II: Last Man Standing) and Sarah Brown, from Super Eruption. But out of all the actors listed, I was most exited about working with my boy Lincoln, a fellow US ex-pat, actor and good friend living here in Sofia. He's also the one who introduced me to Mark, whom he also works closely with at the Cedar Foundation. And although he and I were both casted in Super Eruption, we both had different shooting days. So this time, it was really cool to have the opportunity to finally work together in the same scene in Supertanker.
Okay, speaking of Hip-Hop of the 80s, particularly hip-hop songs, coincidently Sarah, Joe and I, the original concert-going-trio of Sofia, got the treat to see Herbie Hancock go to work recently. The Jazz pioneer and creator of "Rockit," the Grammy winning breakdancing anthem from 1984, recently performed a sold out live performance at Sofia's National Palace of Culture.
And I ain't gonna lie, initially I thought catching a Herbie Hancock show live would be a sleep-fest. But to my surprised, it was just the opposite. But you would not have known it from the very start of the show. You see, he opened the show with "Watermelon Man," one of his early classics and Jazz standards. Great song, but won't really keep you awake after a long and exhausting day at work. So as predicted, my eyes were starting to shut down fast.
And although the next two songs Herbie played were still mellow tunes, they did the trick to spark a bit of energy to my sleeping soul. They were remakes of two of my all time greatest songs ever recorded. The first song "Imagine," a remake of John Lennon's 1971 utopian anthem, is the lead-off single and inspiration for Herbie's tour and new album called The Imagine Project. The second song, also a remake, is the Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush 1986 heart warmer, "Don't Give Up," which is also featured on The Imagine Project. For the live concert versions, Herbie featured a male-female vocal duet for both songs. The male vocalist was Greg Phillinganes, the legendary keyboard session man behind two of my personal top 10 greatest albums ever, Stevie Wonder's Songs In The Key Of Life (#1) and MJ's Thriller (#10). The female vocalist was Christina Trane, a new comer to the music the scene, liken to that of Christina Aguilera in terms of vocal stylings.
There was not an ounce of sleep left in me at this point. I was fully awake and enjoying the show. And things would only get better from here. After Herbie went to work on a couple more awesome remakes by the likes of Joni Mitchell and Bob Marley, the next song he performed and concert highlight for me came as a surprise. It was a song called "Sly," originally dedicated to Sly Stone and my favorite track from Head Hunters, Herbie's 1973 jazz-fusion masterpiece. Not in my wildest dreams would I have thought he'd perform that one live. I'd also worn my Sly & The Family Stone t-shirt in hopes that Herbie would spot me in the audience and give me the thumbs up. Wishful thinking? I know. But it was worth a try.
Anyway, Herbie ended the show on a proper note. First with a medley of two more remakes by two of popular music's most important musicians and songs, Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are a-Changin'" and Sam Cooke's "A Change Is Gonna Come." And last, but certainly not least, and added encore was the1984 breakdancing anthem, "Rockit." It put a big smile on my face in light of everything that has happened to me in the last couple of months. As we walked out the concert all, I could tell the three of us were really surprised as to how great the concert turned out.
Because of my new teaching gig, after the Thursday night concert, it was a bit strange to not hit up a nearby bar for a late snack and chat about the show. It was even stranger when I got home. I could no longer allow myself to stay up past 12 midnight watching re-runs of the Bionic Woman or Tales From The Unexpected. I got work to do, now. A real 9 to 5 punch clocker where 30 or so kids might hope to learn something new from me each day.
So the next morning before class, all rested up and revved to go, I met with the school's director once again. She informed me that a total number of 40 plus students, ranging from kindergarden to 4th grade, a record number for any class in the history of the school's program, had signed up for an after school Hip-hop dance class. You see, I'd forgotten that I volunteered to teach this class during my interview. The director said that the class would start sometime mid semester, so I completely left it in the back of mind, where it stayed until now. And it was now mid semester.
I was completely surprised at the number of students that signed up. I thought that I'd be lucky to get 10 kids. Never in my wildest dreams had I estimated a 40 plus! I guess either my celebrity status was taking effect in the school system or word from the students attending my upper level Hip-hop dance class had circulated through the elementary level. And to think that I was worried for one second about having no experience in teaching a hip-hop dance class. I guess those days of practicing hard downstairs in my mom's basement back in '84 finally paid off. I just hope I can keep it up.
One thing's for sure, I definitely have my work cut out for me. And something tells me that I'm really going to miss the good old days of sitting around doing absolutely nothing.
Be seeing you.
O
