Biggest Loser Casting Call
Alert! This is a long one.
It doesn’t take much to excite me these days, and as a rule I am, for the most part, easy to please. I try not to ask for too much, expect even less than I ask for, and generally try to be thankful for what I am given. Every once in a while, however, something really big or really cool comes along, and I psyche myself up for the event and against my better judgment I hope… I pray… I yearn… for something that will be truly life changing.
When will I learn?
Okay, okay, before I go into trashing mode, I will admit that there were good things about the day. Good company can turn around the most undesirable situations, and I had the best company you could ask for. Laugh if you like, but I have found that most of the people I know who have a lot of… um… well, “personal insulation” on them almost always have a lot of fun as well, especially when they are amongst friends. S and K are two very funny, very supportive friends who, along with a few kind strangers, literally made the day worth while. Add to that a lovely young man (B) who was kind enough to play chauffer, delivery boy, and sugar daddy, and you’ve got yourself the perfect friend stew. So the company was perfect! The event? Not so much.
I heard about the Biggest Loser Open Casting Call from my sister-in-law, MJo. We had tuned in to watch the weekly show a few times and I kept saying (and she kept agreeing), “I would be great on this show!” I had considered applying to be a contestant before, and had even gone as far as starting a video and filling out the online application. But life was busy at the time: three jobs – one 45 minutes away – and a sometime social life kept me from being able to be fully committed the idea so I never finished the process.
A few years later, both K and S had both asked me if I wanted to be partners on the show, but I just wasn’t into it for some reason. Call it timing or lack of desire, but something kept me from going for it. When MJo texted that BL was having an open casting call in Portland, however, I was overwhelmed with the sense that I should do it. MJo was going to be out of town otherwise she would have gone with me. So I asked my faithful NRSO if he would be willing to be driver (my car is NOT in Salem to Portland shape) and moral support. He agreed and then I contacted S and K and asked if they wanted to come along to try out as well. They did, so it was a plan!
Saturday the 27th S and I pulled up the online information and printed out copies of the 10 page application. The casting call would start at 10 AM at the Portland Convention Center and last until 6 PM. The basic rules were you couldn’t be in line before 7AM on the 28th, you had to have a minimum amount of weight to lose to be considered, you had to bring a picture that you didn’t get back, and you had to be available from May 2010 to May 2011. K called and we confirmed pick up times, and then S and I proceeded to get our pictures printed. Later, at her apartment, S and I worked on filling out our applications and figuring out what we were going to wear for our auditions.
I woke up at the hiney crack of dawn and got ready. It was raining outside, but I assumed (don’t even say it) that the casting call would be like American Idol tryouts – there would be some standing in line, and then once inside we would be given a number and then sit until it was our turn to audition. In light of this assumption I decided to wear a comfy pair of brown leather high heeled (wedged) sandals. I opted for nice jeans and a dressy-ish brown shirt with a brown artisan sweater. My hair was newly colored and cut, and straight as a board, and I looked halfway decent. At 7:15 AM I was waiting for S in her apartment parking lot and by 7:35 AM we were on our way to B’s.
B was in the car waiting. S and I got in and we went to pick up K. We spent the 45 minute drive to Portland talking, with K getting to know S and B (and vice versa) as this was their first time meeting. When we took the exit for the Convention Center the electricity in the air was palpable. We pulled up to the front of the Convention Center and hopped out of B’s car to get in line and let him go find a parking spot. OH MY WORD. It took us 5 minutes just to find the end of the line, and then we realized that the line stretched from the front of the CC all the way to one end of the block and then back to the other end of the block, and then back to the front of the CC. Here’s a diagram:
x
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Now, that doesn’t look like a lot of Xs, but at one point we heard there were over 8000 people in line.
YEAH…
So we got in line at 8:40 AM. We talked to several people in line who said that people had been camped out since well before 7 AM. I was not pleased to hear this, but I was confident that with us being there as early as we were, we wouldn’t have to wait too long past 10 AM to get inside and be seated. So we waited. K realized about 30 minutes in that she had worn the wrong kind of shoes and S agreed. It was cold, rainy, windy and pretty miserable. But we had less than an hour to go until the doors opened so we figured we could tough it out. Plus, B brought some coffee over so that made things MUCH better.
During our wait for the opening of the doors, more and more people started to get in line and it was amazing to see that many… um… self insulated people in one place. I was also amazed at the number of people who had obviously not read my blog on fat fashion. K lovingly chastised me about being judgmental and I explained that I wasn’t judging the fat people; I was judging the presentation of the fat ON the people. Some presented their fat tastefully and some… let it all hang out for the world to see. I’m just sayin’…
At 10:00 AM the line moved a little!! Then the line stopped moving. Then it moved a little again. Then it stopped moving, again. This stop and go thing went on for the next 6 plus hours until we finally got inside the building. During the wait outside I saw people who had started out behind us now in front of us. There was also constant misinformation being spread around about how many people were actually there, how many people had been expected, and whether or not all the people in line were going to get through. One lady in front of us kept saying things over and over again and she wasn’t even trying out… even though she ended up taking a numbered application which meant that an actual applicant didn’t get one. People were smoking in line. Obnoxious people were driving by honking their horns. Starbucks ran out of almost everything except coffee… it was a rough time. Even I got a little snappy. At some point, I don’t remember the time because I was trying NOT to be conscious of it; B went and got us a little snack to tie us over until dinner. I think we were 2/3 of the way there by then, and it was just about then that I started to regret my choice of shoes. Like I said, they were pretty comfy considering they were high heels, but my poor feet can only stand (literally and figuratively) so much until the ratio of pounds to square inch start to be a little too hard to handle. We were fortunate enough to have some nice people behind us (A, T, B, J & M) so we passed the time making jokes about our situation and trying to remain as positive as possible. It’s hard to remain positive, however, when you can’t feel your feet or hands. But we managed.
When we finally arrived at the entrance to the Convention Center it was a relief simply to be warm. A skinny little cute intern boy gave us our two page applications, which were numbered, and we all proceeded to fill them out. I took myself down the stairs a little and filled my out sitting down. By the time I was finished the rest of our newly formed “gang” of cool people were down the ramp and on the main floor. Unfortunately, however, the stop and go waiting continued for another 4 hours inside. I snagged a chair from the Starbucks inside the CC and dragged it with me so I could sit as much as possible. Some other people followed my lead so the rest of the crew got to take turns sitting down when they needed to, as well. At one point the line actually went up one set of stairs and down the other, so A, M, and J saved our seats on the floor while we saved their seats in line.
After we followed the crawling line up the stairs I suddenly started feeling REALLY weird. I was sweating and dizzy and my stomach was talking to me in several different gastroenterological languages. I realized I was 12 hours into my day and had only consumed a grande mocha and a bag of McDonald’s apples… oh, and a bite of a chicken MgNugget. Yikes! Recipe for a faint, for sure, and we’d already had the ambulance there once because someone had fainted earlier in the day. One of our new friends, however, ran down to the vending machine and got me a Root beer. (Thanks T!!) The other, (RJ”B”M) fanned me with his pad of paper. It was just what I needed to chill me out until we finally got to the end of the line and were about to get our chance at what we all thought was going to be our life changing opportunity. As we headed toward the front of the line we exchanged Facebook info, wished each other luck, and I attempted to make myself presentable rather than look like I’d just worked a 10 hour day in a wind tunnel. We were then informed that we had approximately five seconds with the producer to tell them our name, age, occupation and how much weight we wanted to lose.
Excuse me?
Did you just say “five seconds”?
Five seconds?
FIVE SECONDS?????????
Cue internal freak out, external smile. Yep, we had five seconds to make an impression. How freakin’ lame. Y’know, it’s not bad enough that overweight people feel devalued in general, but the Biggest Loser felt it would be okay to come here and herd us through a ten hour maze like cattle, only to let the prize be a five second walk-by in front of ONE of TWO producers. It sheds new light on the name “Biggest Loser.” I don’t know who they got to plan this event but I’ll tell ya point blank I could have done better with a crew of 10 year olds. I mean, I know American Idol is a big show and they’ve got lots of money and resources, but it wouldn’t have taken much to make this casting call better. As a matter of fact, I’m so sure of myself and what could have been done that I’m drafting a letter to send to the Biggest Loser to tell them they can call me the next time they are coming to Portland and I will coordinate the event for them.
I mean, c’mon! The casting call was supposed to get people from Washington, Oregon and Northern California. Did you really only expect 500 people to show up? Okay, so you had 1500 applications on site to fill out. That’s still only 500 people from each state. I‘ve planned whole parties for more people than that from ONE state. I’m not trying to be mean here, I’m TRULY disappointed. For all the good the Biggest Loser does to help people become healthy, they sure don’t understand their audience very well. Even if there were only going to be 500 people there, it still would have been nice to at least have chairs set up. Hello! We’re fat! Pounds to square inch of feet ratio! Also, how about contacting the vendors and restaurants around the venue so they can be prepared for the onslaught of hungry, nervous overeaters? That should have been a given! I could go on and on with what I would have done differently, but the fact is I can’t go back and change what happened.
The day ended warmly and nicely with B, S, K and me going to PF Chang’s for dinner, me spending 20 minutes in the loo getting sick while the food was delivered, and a comfy cozy car-ride home. I pulled into my drive way around 11:00 PM. Lonnnnnng day. It was beYOND wonderful to wash the wind blown grime and sweat off my face, and change into warm soft pajamas and hop into bed. When I was awakened by waves of sickness the next morning around 4 AM, it took me a few minutes to realize the pain wasn’t just in my stomach. My feet, legs and lower back were very angry with me for my choice of shoes and my choice of activities the day before. When I got back to bed I realized that regardless of this experience I would still probably make a video and apply to be on the show. I mean, after all, I enjoy doing stuff like that. But more importantly I realized that despite the let down of this one experience, I had branched out… I’d done something crazy and had a good story to tell. I had solidified my thought process about losing weight and now just have to pray about how I will do it. I also realized that if I had the stamina to wait in line for 10 hours then I really could endure the hard core work outs I would be expected to do at the ranch.
Finally, I realized that I can absolutely be committed, and should be committed… to an asylum, if I ever wear high heels to any kind of long term standing event again.
It doesn’t take much to excite me these days, and as a rule I am, for the most part, easy to please. I try not to ask for too much, expect even less than I ask for, and generally try to be thankful for what I am given. Every once in a while, however, something really big or really cool comes along, and I psyche myself up for the event and against my better judgment I hope… I pray… I yearn… for something that will be truly life changing.
When will I learn?
Okay, okay, before I go into trashing mode, I will admit that there were good things about the day. Good company can turn around the most undesirable situations, and I had the best company you could ask for. Laugh if you like, but I have found that most of the people I know who have a lot of… um… well, “personal insulation” on them almost always have a lot of fun as well, especially when they are amongst friends. S and K are two very funny, very supportive friends who, along with a few kind strangers, literally made the day worth while. Add to that a lovely young man (B) who was kind enough to play chauffer, delivery boy, and sugar daddy, and you’ve got yourself the perfect friend stew. So the company was perfect! The event? Not so much.
I heard about the Biggest Loser Open Casting Call from my sister-in-law, MJo. We had tuned in to watch the weekly show a few times and I kept saying (and she kept agreeing), “I would be great on this show!” I had considered applying to be a contestant before, and had even gone as far as starting a video and filling out the online application. But life was busy at the time: three jobs – one 45 minutes away – and a sometime social life kept me from being able to be fully committed the idea so I never finished the process.
A few years later, both K and S had both asked me if I wanted to be partners on the show, but I just wasn’t into it for some reason. Call it timing or lack of desire, but something kept me from going for it. When MJo texted that BL was having an open casting call in Portland, however, I was overwhelmed with the sense that I should do it. MJo was going to be out of town otherwise she would have gone with me. So I asked my faithful NRSO if he would be willing to be driver (my car is NOT in Salem to Portland shape) and moral support. He agreed and then I contacted S and K and asked if they wanted to come along to try out as well. They did, so it was a plan!
Saturday the 27th S and I pulled up the online information and printed out copies of the 10 page application. The casting call would start at 10 AM at the Portland Convention Center and last until 6 PM. The basic rules were you couldn’t be in line before 7AM on the 28th, you had to have a minimum amount of weight to lose to be considered, you had to bring a picture that you didn’t get back, and you had to be available from May 2010 to May 2011. K called and we confirmed pick up times, and then S and I proceeded to get our pictures printed. Later, at her apartment, S and I worked on filling out our applications and figuring out what we were going to wear for our auditions.
I woke up at the hiney crack of dawn and got ready. It was raining outside, but I assumed (don’t even say it) that the casting call would be like American Idol tryouts – there would be some standing in line, and then once inside we would be given a number and then sit until it was our turn to audition. In light of this assumption I decided to wear a comfy pair of brown leather high heeled (wedged) sandals. I opted for nice jeans and a dressy-ish brown shirt with a brown artisan sweater. My hair was newly colored and cut, and straight as a board, and I looked halfway decent. At 7:15 AM I was waiting for S in her apartment parking lot and by 7:35 AM we were on our way to B’s.
B was in the car waiting. S and I got in and we went to pick up K. We spent the 45 minute drive to Portland talking, with K getting to know S and B (and vice versa) as this was their first time meeting. When we took the exit for the Convention Center the electricity in the air was palpable. We pulled up to the front of the Convention Center and hopped out of B’s car to get in line and let him go find a parking spot. OH MY WORD. It took us 5 minutes just to find the end of the line, and then we realized that the line stretched from the front of the CC all the way to one end of the block and then back to the other end of the block, and then back to the front of the CC. Here’s a diagram:
Biggest Loser Casting Entrance
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
x
x
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Now, that doesn’t look like a lot of Xs, but at one point we heard there were over 8000 people in line.
YEAH…
So we got in line at 8:40 AM. We talked to several people in line who said that people had been camped out since well before 7 AM. I was not pleased to hear this, but I was confident that with us being there as early as we were, we wouldn’t have to wait too long past 10 AM to get inside and be seated. So we waited. K realized about 30 minutes in that she had worn the wrong kind of shoes and S agreed. It was cold, rainy, windy and pretty miserable. But we had less than an hour to go until the doors opened so we figured we could tough it out. Plus, B brought some coffee over so that made things MUCH better.
During our wait for the opening of the doors, more and more people started to get in line and it was amazing to see that many… um… self insulated people in one place. I was also amazed at the number of people who had obviously not read my blog on fat fashion. K lovingly chastised me about being judgmental and I explained that I wasn’t judging the fat people; I was judging the presentation of the fat ON the people. Some presented their fat tastefully and some… let it all hang out for the world to see. I’m just sayin’…
At 10:00 AM the line moved a little!! Then the line stopped moving. Then it moved a little again. Then it stopped moving, again. This stop and go thing went on for the next 6 plus hours until we finally got inside the building. During the wait outside I saw people who had started out behind us now in front of us. There was also constant misinformation being spread around about how many people were actually there, how many people had been expected, and whether or not all the people in line were going to get through. One lady in front of us kept saying things over and over again and she wasn’t even trying out… even though she ended up taking a numbered application which meant that an actual applicant didn’t get one. People were smoking in line. Obnoxious people were driving by honking their horns. Starbucks ran out of almost everything except coffee… it was a rough time. Even I got a little snappy. At some point, I don’t remember the time because I was trying NOT to be conscious of it; B went and got us a little snack to tie us over until dinner. I think we were 2/3 of the way there by then, and it was just about then that I started to regret my choice of shoes. Like I said, they were pretty comfy considering they were high heels, but my poor feet can only stand (literally and figuratively) so much until the ratio of pounds to square inch start to be a little too hard to handle. We were fortunate enough to have some nice people behind us (A, T, B, J & M) so we passed the time making jokes about our situation and trying to remain as positive as possible. It’s hard to remain positive, however, when you can’t feel your feet or hands. But we managed.
When we finally arrived at the entrance to the Convention Center it was a relief simply to be warm. A skinny little cute intern boy gave us our two page applications, which were numbered, and we all proceeded to fill them out. I took myself down the stairs a little and filled my out sitting down. By the time I was finished the rest of our newly formed “gang” of cool people were down the ramp and on the main floor. Unfortunately, however, the stop and go waiting continued for another 4 hours inside. I snagged a chair from the Starbucks inside the CC and dragged it with me so I could sit as much as possible. Some other people followed my lead so the rest of the crew got to take turns sitting down when they needed to, as well. At one point the line actually went up one set of stairs and down the other, so A, M, and J saved our seats on the floor while we saved their seats in line.
After we followed the crawling line up the stairs I suddenly started feeling REALLY weird. I was sweating and dizzy and my stomach was talking to me in several different gastroenterological languages. I realized I was 12 hours into my day and had only consumed a grande mocha and a bag of McDonald’s apples… oh, and a bite of a chicken MgNugget. Yikes! Recipe for a faint, for sure, and we’d already had the ambulance there once because someone had fainted earlier in the day. One of our new friends, however, ran down to the vending machine and got me a Root beer. (Thanks T!!) The other, (RJ”B”M) fanned me with his pad of paper. It was just what I needed to chill me out until we finally got to the end of the line and were about to get our chance at what we all thought was going to be our life changing opportunity. As we headed toward the front of the line we exchanged Facebook info, wished each other luck, and I attempted to make myself presentable rather than look like I’d just worked a 10 hour day in a wind tunnel. We were then informed that we had approximately five seconds with the producer to tell them our name, age, occupation and how much weight we wanted to lose.
Excuse me?
Did you just say “five seconds”?
Five seconds?
FIVE SECONDS?????????
Cue internal freak out, external smile. Yep, we had five seconds to make an impression. How freakin’ lame. Y’know, it’s not bad enough that overweight people feel devalued in general, but the Biggest Loser felt it would be okay to come here and herd us through a ten hour maze like cattle, only to let the prize be a five second walk-by in front of ONE of TWO producers. It sheds new light on the name “Biggest Loser.” I don’t know who they got to plan this event but I’ll tell ya point blank I could have done better with a crew of 10 year olds. I mean, I know American Idol is a big show and they’ve got lots of money and resources, but it wouldn’t have taken much to make this casting call better. As a matter of fact, I’m so sure of myself and what could have been done that I’m drafting a letter to send to the Biggest Loser to tell them they can call me the next time they are coming to Portland and I will coordinate the event for them.
I mean, c’mon! The casting call was supposed to get people from Washington, Oregon and Northern California. Did you really only expect 500 people to show up? Okay, so you had 1500 applications on site to fill out. That’s still only 500 people from each state. I‘ve planned whole parties for more people than that from ONE state. I’m not trying to be mean here, I’m TRULY disappointed. For all the good the Biggest Loser does to help people become healthy, they sure don’t understand their audience very well. Even if there were only going to be 500 people there, it still would have been nice to at least have chairs set up. Hello! We’re fat! Pounds to square inch of feet ratio! Also, how about contacting the vendors and restaurants around the venue so they can be prepared for the onslaught of hungry, nervous overeaters? That should have been a given! I could go on and on with what I would have done differently, but the fact is I can’t go back and change what happened.
The day ended warmly and nicely with B, S, K and me going to PF Chang’s for dinner, me spending 20 minutes in the loo getting sick while the food was delivered, and a comfy cozy car-ride home. I pulled into my drive way around 11:00 PM. Lonnnnnng day. It was beYOND wonderful to wash the wind blown grime and sweat off my face, and change into warm soft pajamas and hop into bed. When I was awakened by waves of sickness the next morning around 4 AM, it took me a few minutes to realize the pain wasn’t just in my stomach. My feet, legs and lower back were very angry with me for my choice of shoes and my choice of activities the day before. When I got back to bed I realized that regardless of this experience I would still probably make a video and apply to be on the show. I mean, after all, I enjoy doing stuff like that. But more importantly I realized that despite the let down of this one experience, I had branched out… I’d done something crazy and had a good story to tell. I had solidified my thought process about losing weight and now just have to pray about how I will do it. I also realized that if I had the stamina to wait in line for 10 hours then I really could endure the hard core work outs I would be expected to do at the ranch.
Finally, I realized that I can absolutely be committed, and should be committed… to an asylum, if I ever wear high heels to any kind of long term standing event again.
I think you are inspirational and probably very fun to be around. You should start your own "biggest loser" competition with you friends, family and co-workers. You can blog each day and your "fans" can follow. I'll bet you could really inspire some changes in a lot of people!
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