Me and Gus

I was wandering the internet this afternoon, as I am often wont to do when I am avoiding something else on the agenda.  (Today’s avoidance was my taxes, which are now complete and filed.)  In my YouTube perusing, I wandered into a clip from Me and Gus, the “interactive educational music video for children ages 0-6” I did back in 2006.  Here’s the clip (and yes, it cuts off in the middle of a verse):

There are over 10,300 hits for this video, which is crazy (especially being that I had no idea the video was posted on YouTube).  We also have a website (where you can see a bunch more clips) and a Facebook page (which I also didn’t know existed until today – where have I been?!).

Gus (looking like a shark in this shot) was played
by the talented Lee Tosca who is used to being
an art director, not a puppeteer.

For me, participating in this project was one of those, “What am I doing?!  Is this really real?!  Is this my life, or perhaps it’s just a crazy dream?!” experiences.  At the time I was working at Boston Children’s Museum running their Music Department (which sounds super fancy, but really I was a one-woman department responsible for making sure my programs, staffing, calendar, and marketing didn’t collapse into a big ball of chaos around each and every corner).  One of my favorite, and longest running, programs was a weekly group called “Sing-a-Story.”  It was a literacy-based music and movement program for zero to three year olds and their families.  We used our voices and bodies, puppets, books, and all sorts of other props (or none at all) to sing stories.  (I mean, at the end of the day, what is music anyway, other than a form of storytelling?)  One particular day, after a regular Sing-a-Story program, a woman approached me saying she was working on developing a children’s video that centered on learning through music and movement, and she wondered if I was interested in participating.  I must admit I was skeptical; it was an odd request – both unexpected and surreal.  But how sketchy could this woman, Kim, really be if she’s come to find me (with her kids in tow) while I was singing with a bunch of toddlers?

Long and short, I eventually signed on to do the pilot episode of Me and Gus.  Kim had been looking for videos for her children that were educational and entertaining for kids, not annoying-as-all-holy-hell for adults, and sought to connect with children in a low-tech, simple kind of way.  And she wasn’t finding any.  So she decided to create her own.  She called up her friend Fitz, who’s been doing awesome stuff in television and film for several decades, and they got to work.

By the time I came on board, the show was well under way.  The script had been through a bajillion revisions and the songs were on their way to their finished form.  I was able to offer my input from the position of a professional educator who regularly uses music to connect with kids, and I worked really hard to learn my lines and the songs.  That said, I have to admit, I am a horrible actor.  Always have been.  So I was experiencing a growing concern that I wasn’t going to be able to pull this off.  Performing music has always been easy.  I can sing myself into tears or laughter, no problem.  But delivering dialogue and having it sound natural and spontaneous is a skill I have never mastered.  And I suck at memorizing anything.  I can remember the plot points and story arch without issue and can make up dialogue that gets us where we need to be (I do it everyday in the classroom), but delivering word-for-word dialogue is a real challenge.  Thus, the title of actor is not one I apply to myself.  So, being asked to ‘act’ on film was a scary, scary, yet desirably challenging concept.

We were swimming. 
Aren't my shoes cool?

As rehearsals and finally filming day came, I became increasingly anxious.  I felt like the stakes were really high.  And I wanted to meet the expectations being set for me.  Plus, I was in a whole new world – a fast-paced world filled with very few familiar things to latch onto for support.  I was “the talent” who had my own hair and make-up person, who could ask for anything I wanted and it would happen, who had someone drive me to and from set – all this crazy stuff.  I was wired for sound (meaning I had to remember to turn off my mic pack when I went to the bathroom), I had to remember not to put my hair behind my shoulders because it would throw off consistency between shots, and I had to pretend that the sweat dripping down my back and soaking into my jeans wasn’t feeling like an extra ten pounds of water weight.  It was crazy.  And exciting.  And hard.  But I did the very best I possibly could – pushing to give everything I had to offer and to be successful at something I found intimidating. 

I still have no idea if I lived up to the expectations of the creators, producers, and director.  I hope so.  I certainly learned a lot.  And I think that if I ever had the opportunity to do something like it again I would be able to approach it with less anxiety, more grace, and a faster learning curve. 

In the meantime, this was an opportunity to try on a different kind of life for a brief time.  And an opportunity to really see and appreciate the immense talent, patience, and hard work that is part of working in the film industry day in and day out.  They are amazing.  And awe-inspiring.  And for a short time I was able to witness their intense drive, determination, and passion.  How lucky am I?!

Once the video was edited and put into circulation for the world to accept or throw off as it saw fit, I think I only watched the whole thing through once from beginning to end.  (It’s hard to watch yourself on film.)  But, I’ve had the opportunity to talk to a few families here and there who own the video and hear the ways it has been a valuable resource for their families.  A few years ago I was in Michigan visiting a dear friend of mine.  He had given the video as a gift to his niece and nephew the Christmas before, and when I got there the kids kind of hung back a bit.  Eventually the older, who was maybe four at the time, said, “Are you Kelly?  From my video?  Do you really know Gus?”  I said yes and we spent the rest of the weekend playing and singing and laughing together.  I was honored and truly humbled that this small project I had participated in meant something special and valuable to these young children and their family.  Seriously, how cool is that?!

Note:  The photos in this post were taken by the talented (and busy) Debra A. Schneider who was one of the producers for Me and Gus.