I don't know how 'type-A' actors do it. To be honest, I don't know if there is such a thing as a type-A actor. I would think that the instability, unpredictability, and lack of planning ahead inherent in this line of work would drive most  type-A people out of the business.

Today I was supposed to go to an audition for a stock photography company. The more I thought about it, though, the less that seemed like a good idea. In stock photography you get paid once - usually not that much - and then the images are up for grabs to whoever wants to pay for them. Forever. To use them for whatever they want to sell. So theoretically my image could be used to promote a church or a casino; a Democrat campaign or a Republican campaign or a National Socialist campaign; a waterbed warehouse in Cleveland or a brothel in Vegas.

Now granted, acting by definition does not allow you a lot of control over your image. You're kind of at the mercy of the director, the cinematographer, the editor, even the sound mixer, who could literally put words in your mouth that you never said. But ordinarily you at least know what projects you're affiliated with. Not so with stock photography.

So I ended up canceling the audition. My agent called a short time later, and I assumed it was to ask my why I had canceled, but in fact it was to see whether I was interested in going to another audition today. This one was in Irvine, California, for a power tool company. I was at the gym when she called and I had another appointment afterward, so I ended up having to drive like a maniac to make it to Irvine by 2 PM. Fortunately, my definition of driving like a maniac and the LA definition of driving like a normal person are very similar, so I didn't get pulled over.

In summary, I woke up this morning expecting to drive to Hollywood and audition for Corbis, and I ended up driving all the way to Irvine to audition for Bosch. It's sudden 180-degree turnarounds like this that make me wonder how the type-A people of the world cope with acting as a vocation.

Meanwhile, it's 5 PM the day before a shoot, and as of right now I still have no idea where I'm supposed to be tomorrow or when.

Okay, I really ought to say something about all the ruckus surrounding the Courage, New Hampshire premiere. Yes, it got a lot of media attention (Hollywood Reporter, ABC Radio, Fox News, Drudge Report, Huffington Post, The Atlantic Monthly) and yes, that's great. But the premiere itself wasn't the media circus people were predicting, although they did have to have a second showing in another screening room to handle the overflow crowd.

My sexy date and I arrived late, thanks to my insistence on washing the car first, so we had to sit in the front few rows of the cinema, but even from that vantage point the picture looked pretty darn good. I saw a couple slight inconsistencies in my own close-up reshoots (explainable because the cinematographer wasn't there that day), but apart from that, I thoroughly enjoyed the story, which frankly was engrossing.

The after party was quite fun. Food was good; drinks were plentiful; lots of people to talk to. Reconnected with the cast and crew, and everyone was very friendly and outgoing. We stayed until literally the last person stumbled out the door.

And then we drove home and the next day I took a much needed day off. I don't see how I could have done otherwise. For the first time in weeks, I have no idea what to do next.

I had breakfast with a guy from back home a few weeks ago. I had a couple auditions lined up that day, so I was wearing a coat and tie, and when he saw me he said, "You look like you're straight out of Central Casting." Whereupon I flashed my Central Casting ID card and said, "I am, actually."

"Straight out of Central Casting" has become part of our lexicon, but it is an actual company, and they supply production companies with background people. From an actor's point of view, they function as a sort of agency for people who are new to LA, who enjoy doing background work, or who just want to make some money. Being two of the three, it's been on my list since signing up with them to call every day and listen to their job line. At first I did this faithfully, but none of the listings were ever right for me, and after a while I gave up on it. So the only time I ever get work through them is when they call me. And believe it or not, that does happen from time to time, when some casting person somewhere picks out my photo from the Central Casting website.

Usually a call from Central Casting means an 8 to 10-hour day as an extra, sitting around on a studio back lot all day, eating a lot of unhealthy things from the craft services table, reading a book, listening to other actors network with each other (a skill I have yet to acquire), and maybe being in a scene or two. But a lot of times they end up not using me for anything. I'm not sure why this is, but it often happens that I get chosen to show up on set, only to see them use everybody except me. I guess I'm just not very backgroundy, or something. Then I trudge home in a peculiar state of exhaustion, considering the fact that I haven't really done anything all day.

Part of that exhaustion may stem from the fact that extras typically aren't accorded a great deal of respect in Hollywood. They rate somewhere just above mimes and just below homeless people on the avoid-o-meter. Which is paradoxical, because extras add a lot of depth and realism to films and TV. But the perception remains that it's a job that absolutely anybody could do. It's anonymous, demoralizing, unfulfilling work.

Anyway, yesterday Central Casting called and asked whether I would be available to do a promo at CBS today. My schedule was clearable, and being in a money-making frame of mind, I readily agreed.

Accordingly, I showed up at CBS Radford today expecting the usual experience as an extra. So I was greatly surprised when the people on the crew were actually friendly to me and even knew my name. What's more, I got my own private dressing room. After filling out the usual paperwork, I was told that since I was going to be the only person in this particular promo, I would be upgraded from the category of 'Background' to 'Under Five.' The promo was for a new J.J. Abrams show starring Jim Caviezel called Person of Interest, which will air on CBS beginning in September. And this is where it pays to be in the union.

See, as a non-union extra, you'll work 8-10 hours a day and get paid by the hour (usually minimum wage). Time is money. It's linear, and it's just like a real job. But if you belong to the union, time isn't money. You're not paid by the hour; you get paid according to when and where and how often the show airs on TV. They also factor in how integral to the story you are. In this case, since I was the only one in the spot, I automatically got paid a higher rate, which was about three times the amount I expected to get paid.

But wait; it gets better. It turned out that the scene we shot today will actually air as two separate promos, which means I'll actually get more like five times what I expected to make. And I was only on set for four hours. That typical day I was expecting? Just got a whole lot better.

I'll say it again: It pays to join the union.

9 AM - Breakfast with girlfriend Theresa Friedrick and actor Basil Hoffman at Mo's in Burbank. Wow, a power breakfast and two auditions today! I almost feel like I'm in the film industry or something. We had a great leisurely three-hour breakfast, full of meandering conversation, and finally at noon returned home, dropped off Theresa, and I headed on to the tailor's to pick up my tux for next weekend's Courage, New Hampshire premiere. Then it was off to...

1:55 PM - Audition for a resort commercial at Nic's Martini Lounge in Beverly Hills. Or, more accurately, standing outside Nic's for over an hour with hundreds of other hopefuls. This was unquestionably one of the worst-run casting calls I've seen. And of course the audition notice had gone to great lengths to assure us that we were hand-picked from thousands of applicants and that it was going to be a 'fun audition.' I'm not sure such a thing exists, but it sounds suspiciously like an oxymoron. My theory is that the more they play up the 'fun' aspects of the audition, the  surer you can be that it is going to be an ordeal. And such certainly proved to be the case.

First of all, who has a casting call at a restaurant? In Beverly Hills! At lunchtime! Honestly... The other actors were all equally exasperated, but everyone had made such an effort to get there that nobody wanted to leave.

There were sign-in sheets, but no one was paying them the slightest heed. Everyone just stood crowded around the entrance of the building, completely blocking the entrance and constituting a severe fire hazard. About every fifteen minutes someone appeared at the door and ushered ten actors in. The problem was that they kept ushering in ten beautiful girls, while ignoring all of us handsome men. Finally my allotted hour expired and I had to leave to feed to the voracious Beverly Hills parking meter. When I returned, the throng had diminished somewhat, and promptly at 3 PM (presumably the tail end of the time they had booked the restaurant) a woman emerged from the building, took my headshot, and dismissed me. So with my 241st philosophical shrug it was heave-ho and onward to...

3:50 PM - Audition for Teaching English video at Pitch Casting on Sunset Boulevard. This was déjà vu for me. Just a month or so ago I had two auditions in one day, the first one was a crazy cattle call, and the second was a well-run Japanese ESL video project. Strange. So I did that and then pointed the car homeward. Miraculously, my Tom-Tom managed to avoid all rush hour traffic, getting me home at 5 PM on the dot, in time for my daughters' second karate class, a mile run and a short workout, and that, my friends, is what you call a full day.

10:05 AM - Audition: Cyber Defender commercial at The Zoo FX in Calabasas. I've auditioned here once before, and this time I got to play a partygoer and say one line over and over again. My character's name was Lyle, and not only do I not see myself as a Lyle, I don't think I've ever met a real Lyle. Typically characters in commercials don't have names anyway, so we might as well call him Ichabod Yancey Duffenbuffer XIII.

12 PM - Audition: Samsung commercial at ASG Casting in North Hollywood. This was an easy read, with an 'instant wife' named Lillian, sitting on a couch watching TV.

3:20 PM - Audition: Smuggle, a feature film about illegal immigration, at Newhall Auditorium in Newhall.

4:05 PM - Audition: Acura, at 310 Casting in Los Angeles. Long line of good-looking people, then a few photos, and then out.

1:20 PM - Audition: I Hate Hamlet, at Columbia College Hollywood in Tarzana. This was sort of a big deal because I auditioned for this same role 5 years ago in Springfield. Suffice it to say I didn't get the part, and lo, here is another chance. I gave it my all. Again. This time it's for a one-day film clip, though, instead of the 3-month commitment of an entire play.

12:50 PM - Audition: Time For Diesel commercial at Ocean Park Casting in Santa Monica. For this audition another guy and I put on hard hats and pretended to be construction workers. And yes, we pretended to ogle a woman. Hollywood thrives on stereotypes.

3:15 PM - Audition: OWN Promo, at the Casting Lounge on La Brea. This was my first shirtless audition, and who better to audition shirtless for than Oprah? Of course the woman herself wasn't there; this was merely a promo for her new network. The bit involved people jumping off of a dock into water, so the requested wardrobe was bathing attire. I auditioned with fellow actor Tim Lott, whom I met last year on the set of James Ellroy's LA: City of Demons.

So there we were, Tim and I, standing bare-chested in front of the casting people alongside a leggy Eastern European blonde in a bikini, and it occurred to me at some point that while I felt slightly like I was taking part in some sort of human trafficking activity, this still beat my best day sitting in a cubicle.