I found myself on a TV show, although I couldn’t tell if it was a single episode or a series, as a character called “keeper of the kine.” How I’d become a television cowherd, I had no idea.
I was in an empty classroom between classes, being tutored by a college math instructor (real person) on a small part in a musical being staged just so he could spend time with me and get me alone on an iceberg drifting from part of the stage to another. I was supposed to kiss sea otters along the way. Worse, I (and others) was supposed to lip synch because I couldn’t sing. None of it made sense to me, and I was appalled by the effort and expense this man was putting into making an impression on me — and I didn’t even have a major role.