Old Vids

I spent Memorial Day going through my computer and storing a lot of files on DVD so I could free up the space for future projects (Messenger Doc, Purgatory USA, etc.). While purging I came across these stills of projects I was in a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Pete & Leslie in The Tempest... awful.

In A Common Fate Trailer... unimpressive.

Divorce Court... embarrassing.

Hungry Howies... low point.

With Patrick Wilson in Chase Bank's
Sherlock Holmes Spoof... not bad.

Unfortunately, almost NONE of them are any close to being respectable. Sad, sad, sad. It's amazing what we do as actors starting out... just about anything.

Ugh... some of my past I wish I could delete, like the computer files I purged today.

Award-Winning Ass

My brother Paul reminded me last night of a funny college story I had long forgotten.

In theater, there are serious performance competitions called the Irene Ryan Competition. At the end of the school year, our theater department would hold a spoof award ceremony called the Eileen Lyons, where the entire department would attend and share in the fun festivities.

My senior year in college I was in a performance of The Tempest. One of the set pieces was this very large chess set, so for the statues at the Eileen Lyon awards, they used the chess pieces from the show.

Well, one of the categories was "The most common phrase heard in the Theater Department." The nominees were various phrases our acting teachers would often state, such as "Act better, be loud" etc. The winning phrase was not one of the nominees. The winning phrase most heard in the Theater Department in 1988 was:

"Pete, you're an ass!"

I went onto the stage to find the entire theater department offering me a standing ovation for being an ass. I believe it was the only standing ovation given that night. It was so funny that I immediately went backstage and called my mother.

"Mom!" I said on the phone, "I just won an award in the theater department!"

"Really?" Mom said excitedly.

"Yeah," I responded, "I'm the 1988 Fine Arts Assh_le of the year!"

The phone went silent for about 10 seconds.

"No," I continued, "it's a good thing!"

"Oh... okay," my Mom finally muttered.

What a funny night. So, whenever people would call me an ass, I would tell them "Not only am I an ass, but I'm an award-winning ass! That doesn't come without serious dedication and practice!"

And I still have that over-sized chess piece in my box of collectibles. After all, an award is an award!

A Trip Down Memory Lane

When I attended the retirement celebration of Doc Shelton, it also turned into a college reunion of sorts. Most of our friends from the theater department in the mid to late 80s returned, as well as some staff.

Graduation Class of '88
Dave, Pete, Chris, Stephanie, Jay and Becky

Some of the returnees
Dave, Sunday, Leslie, Pete and Jay

What was perhaps the strangest part of it all is that none of us had been together as a group for 19 years. And most of us had never been back to the theater department in all of that time. So, when we found ourselves back in our old haunts as a group, it felt as if no time had passed. It was truly a weird experience.

I also had a wonderful time reminiscing with some old teachers. Gwen West, who was our costume and makeup teacher told me she got in trouble for commenting on my butt in class. That's funny! And Lisa Martin, who designed a great outfit for me in The Tempest told me that she still has the pattern for the jacket and it's officially called The Pete Bauer Jacket.

The "Pete Bauer" Jacket.

I also got to share memories with one of my teachers and eventual acting partner, Jim Wren, with whom we performed Broadway Bound at the Hippodrome directed by Carlos Assissi.

Dawn, Pete and Jim Wren.

Carlos gave me one of the best directions in history. When commenting on one of my many monologues he said "Pete, you know that monologue... well, it sucked." And that was it. No further info. I had to figure out what sucked about it and move on.

Mike McLane and Carlos.

There were also actors who worked with me on my short film Homesick, including Jay, Leslie, Sunday, Mike McLane and Ellen Lau. I also acted with Ellen in A Loss of Roses at the Gainesville Community Playhouse.

Pete and Ellen Lau.

I was also fortunate enough to work with Malcolm Gets in the play Tribute. Malcolm went on to win Tonys on Broadway and landed the role of Richard in Carolyn in the City. Malcolm also performed a song for Doc Shelton during his retirement party.

Pete, Missy and Malcolm.

Malcolm performing for Doc.

And there were many other friends, like Missy Weinstein and Jennifer Ray Miles, Joelle and Kirsten, Glenn Krasny, Matthew Marco, Carl McNulty, Stu Horowitz and Cady West. Mark Sexton, with whom I performed in The Dining Room was there and Kevin Rainsberger, who worked at the Hippodrome during my time there. There were old Winnjammer friends, like Mike Gioia and Manny Suarez.

Jen, Pete and Joelle

Kristen, Pete and Mark

Pete and Kevin.

Mike Gioia and Pete

Pete and Cady.

Also in attendance was Pete Bailoff, who was the screenwriter and producer I met in L.A. during my trip to California. He was excited to see me and we caught up on where things have gone since then.

Pete B, the writer/producer I met in LA
in Goin' Out to Cally.

Overall it was a tremendous time. I could not have asked for a more wonderful trip down memory lane. I'm still having flashbacks.

Doc Shelton

David "Doc" Shelton is one of those once in a lifetime teachers. His honesty is brutal, but accurate. His praise rare and therefore cherished. His expectations are high, yet achievable if you're willing to put in the work. He is unrelenting and wise and talented and funny.

This past week Doc officially retired as an acting teacher at the University of Florida after 30 years and many of us who were changed by this man came back to honor his influence in the theater and in our lives.

For me, Shelton provided an honest and encouraging influence. He was one of those really tough guys to please and, for whatever reason, you wanted to work hard enough to please him. To hear him say "Good job" was like winning an Oscar. Shelton was especially important to me because I was the first in my family to pursue acting so no one knew or understood the craft well enough to help me along, to push me. Shelton became that figure for me.

David "Doc" Shelton and Pete

Over my years at UF we spent hundreds and hundreds of hours at the Winnjammer bar where I learned more about life and theater than any class I ever took at UF. Even though he was my teacher and I was his student, I also felt as if he was my friend, my mentor and my greatest supporter. I was very fortunate to have been cast in two of his plays (Scenes and Revelation at UF and Brighton Beach Memoirs at the Hippodrome). And I was lucky enough to see him put his words into practice in a wonderful performance at UF in Curse of the Starving Class.

One of the enduring elements of a great teacher, of a powerful influence in your life is that their words have resonance, that they carry even more weight as time goes by. I cannot tell you how many times his words, his explanations, his expectations carried me over the past two decades. Now that my daughter is pursuing acting I find myself teaching her with the same words he taught me... and through teaching I have found myself finally understanding what Shelton was trying to teach me 20 years ago. I imagine how much better I would have been back then if I would have grasped the depth of his teachings as I do now. His words have resonated in me and now they resonate in my daughter.

Doc Sharing His Memories

After graduation, I was unsure of how much my friendship with Doc meant to him. After all, every four years he'd get a new bunch of students and I would just be someone in that class of '88. But, during his speech I knew I had at least a small piece in his heart as he quoted something I had said to him almost 20 years earlier. It meant a lot to me.

As was stated during his roast/awards ceremony, Doc Shelton was selfless. He gave his time, his concern, his influence and his friendship with no regard for what he got in return. And he did it for 30 years.

The University of Florida lost a rare jewel when "Doc" decided to retire. I am fortunate and blessed to have called him teacher, mentor and friend. His influence on me and my family will outlive both us.

And that's the sign of someone truly special.