Page 8

 
I. DECONSTRUCTION AND THE BODY 
High Concept 
I was just planning to be in LA 
for a couple days-make a few calls, see 
an old friend, sit on the beach for an hour. 
Nothing special. Calling up 
the Screen Actors Guild was just a whim. 
A joke. I never dreamed that anything 
would come of it. You know how the guild has a rule 
that no two actors can use the same name. 
I just called to see if they had anyone 
using mine. That's all. Just a moment, 
I'll check, the person says. She's back in 
two minutes. Did you say Jim Ferris? Yes. 
Of course you're registered, Mister Ferris. 
One moment, please. What does she mean of course, 
I'm thinking, when suddenly this poodle voice 
yaps: Where have you been I've been 
trying to get hold of you for a month 
OK a week but you gotta talk 
to me, check in once in a while. Excuse 
me, but who is this? Oh, this is just great- 
a week in the country and it's amnesia. 
Hello-I'm your agent. You'd be nothing 
without me. I'm quoting you here. Where are 
you? I'm not thinking, I tell him the name 
of the hotel. Nobody stays there, 
he says. Ten minutes. And hangs up before 
I can say I'm nobody, really. 
But I'm curious too, so I go down 
to the lobby to see what this agent 
looks like-if he shows. He does-and in five 
minutes. He doesn't go up to the desk, 
he comes right over to me and sits down. 
Why don't you call me I've been worried sick. 
8