Well, I could post a resume, like those things that get stapled to the back of the 8x10. But that's so leave-your-picture-at-the-door-we'll-be-in-touch. So I guess we'll find a non-annoying way to go about this.

My first theatrical training was in improv, in a class with Garry Shandling and Robin Williams. Well . . . I was in class with Robin Williams. I'm not sure there's anyone else in a class with Robin Williams. Shall I say Robin Williams again? That class taught me how to think on my feet onstage, but my greatest achievement was when I finally mastered staying in character and not laughing when something funny happened onstage. I think I reached that point about a year and a half ago. Just kidding. Robin Williams.

As a stage performer, I've done productions of A Little Night Music, Brigadoon, Oklahoma, Anyone Can Whistle, Allegro, Lady Audley's Secret, Carousel, A Chorus Line, and a slew of original one-acts. Most of these were done in one location, but the Chorus Line was a traveling affair: Barcelona, Madrid, Sacramento, and San Jose (those last two are not in Spain).

As a nightclub performer, I've worked in New York at Palsson's, Panache, and some dive in the Village (I can't remember the name of it; it was the time I bombed and I think I blocked it out). In Los Angeles I worked at the Horn and the Rose Tattoo.

As a choreographer, I started my own dance group, Dance-Aholics, at age 21. We toured around Los Angeles when disco was big. I also worked some in New York, San Diego, and Encino (a world all its own). I just had foot surgery to get some mobility back in a temperamental toe, so I'm ready to start foxtrotting with the muse again . . . and it just so happens I have an original dance-theater project ripe for the choreographing.

Speaking of original projects, I've been writing plays since I was in high school (that show, Beverly Hills 90210, may have had an episode about "Hello Day," featuring upperclassmen putting on original shows for the freshmen, but I actually wrote the real Hello Day show for my junior class at the actual Beverly Hills High School). I probably shouldn't have brought that up; we had some real juvenile delinquents in our class who tried to sabotage the whole thing. But writing has been a much more gratifying experience since then. I don't need to list it here; you can see for yourself. You can also listen to some of the songs I've worked on, in my secret identity as a lyricist. And if you want, you can see some of the trouble I got into as an undergrad at UCLA, where I got my B.A. in Theater Arts.

As a director/choreographer/writer I did an original kids' musical in San Diego, and Captain Zoom, the Human Cannonball for Disneyland Park. Yes. It was just what it sounds like. With singers, dancers, cape boys and banner girls, a cannon, a man in the cannon, a barker on a float, and the Disneyland Band. Actually, with this last spectacle I didn't do the choreography myself. I had my hands full with cannonballs.

I've whiled away the past several years -- while procrastinating with my own writing -- helping other writers . . . what is known as a dramaturg. Those not familiar with the term think it sounds kind of funny. They think I'm saying dramaturd. But I'm not. I've done dramaturgy at various theaters in San Diego, New York, and Los Angeles, and privately for aspiring individuals.

I've done a little voice-over work. I like it; you don't have to worry about your hair. I've dubbed the English voice of a Japanese guy in a movie (no, I didn't say the line, "Look out! It's a giant robot!"); I was the animated voice of a teenage superhero (who seemed a little light in the superloafers, if you ask me); and I've done some book narration. I also speak Spanish and Portuguese. That didn't matter much for the Japanese guy ("Mira! Es un robote gigante!").

Now, wasn't that more fun than a stapled thing?