In the Summer of 1988, Arby's was going to shoot a commercial in the town of Hope, Indiana. I read and re-read when and where the auditions were. It said they wanted people from Hope. How much more "Hope" could I be!

The day of the auditions, I combed my hair, wore an awesome looking, blue stripped tank top, my white pants I hardly wore, and my cleaned-up Reebox, grabbed my neighbor friend and walked the two blocks to downtown Hope to the Town Hall. I was second in line. I think I looked pretty good for an almost eighth grader.

When I walked in, the casting people asked me "Why do you want to be in the commercial?" I said, "Because I want it to be my big break." Something happened that I never expected. They laughed! They laughed at something I said. It felt pretty darn good! This is the moment I knew I could make people laugh. It is the moment I developed my love of comedy.

This casting call became a phenomenon in our little town. People lined the streets. It was on the news. All I could think was, "Hey, I was second in line. And they laughed!" I just knew this was my path to stardom.

A few days passed, and my aunt called my mom telling her my cousin got in the commercial. I thought that if she could get in it, so could I. I waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited some more. I never received the call. I missed out on getting in an Arby's commercial three blocks from my house! I refer to this as "The Arby's Curse."

Fast forward about 21 years. I found a website that had casting calls for plays and independent films in Indiana. On it listed a movie casting call that was going to be held in Shelbyville, Indiana — just a short drive from my house! At that point in time, I had very little experience. I tried to beef up my resume to look like my high school and college years were full of training. I attached my headshot. I drove to Shelbyville right after school, where I work as a teacher, found a parking place and headed into The Strand Theater. I was second in line.

I did a reading from the script for the casting guys. They asked me a few questions after looking at my resume, and that was that. I drove away thinking that maybe this could be the start of something big.

A few weeks, later, on a Sunday night about 8 p.m., I get an email from the production, telling me that I was shooting the next day. I was in a panic. That would mean I would need a substitute for my class, put sub plans together, and memorize the lines. I frantically called the number listed on the email. The guy probably thought I was a nut because I rattled off about school and what did I need to do. He said I wasn't needed until 4:30. That was a relief.

The next day, I worked on memorizing the 10 or so lines. This would be my first movie, and I wanted to be good. I used every second of free time I had that day — when my students were at specials, lunch, recess, even when they were doing silent reading — I was reading over those 10 lines.

After school, I practically ran out the door of the school to get home to grab things. They didn't give me much direction on what to wear, so I grabbed a suit coat, a tie and a dress shirt. The movie was shooting in Franklin, Indiana at the golf course, so I drove there straight away.

When I arrived, I saw cameras and lights. My heart began to beat because I was about to be on a movie set. I checked in. The producer/casting director said that it would be a few minutes. I told him that I think I had all my lines down. He said that I "shouldn't worry because they changed some things." This was a foreshadowing of things to come.

After moving to 20 different spots to get out of the shots being filmed, the director approached me and asked me if I could come back tomorrow. I asked him what time because I explained that I was a teacher, etc. and needed to know a time. The producer/casting director came up to me and said "Your role is no longer needed. Thank you very much!" He also said, "You'll still get paid," which I never did. All I could think was "The Arby's Curse has struck again!"

Although disappointed, I drove home reassuring myself that this was just the start. Something better was going to happen. Little did I know, something big was about to happen just a few weeks later.

I remember exactly what it said when I read the casting call on a website: "Extras needed for Disney movie, "Secretariat," to be shot at Churchill Downs. Casting call will be held at Churchill Downs in Louisville, Kentucky on..." That was enough for me! I grabbed a copy of my head shot and my beefed up resume. On that fateful day, I drove to Louisville right after school. I didn't even care about the traffic in Louisville. It was my destiny to be in a Disney film!

When I arrived at Churchill Downs, you would have thought an open seating concert was about to take place! People were lined up through the parking lot. I nervously, yet confidently, stood in that line. It took two hours before I made it into the casting people. They herded us in about 50 at a time. Then they told us some information as we filled out forms. We turned them in (it took probably 10 minutes). I walked back to my car and headed home.

About a month later, I got a message on my answering machine. It was from the casting agency. They wanted me as a track official. I immediately called back and accepted. They gave me information on a costume fitting the next week and the days I was needed. I felt so official! Costume fittings, a title!

When I drove back to Churchill Downs for the costume fitting, I, again, had to sit through Louisville rush hour traffic. When I got to the track, I checked in with a security guard. I told him I was there for the costume fitting. He said, "You looked dress to me!" As we chuckled, he pointed me in the direction of the costumers.

I checked in, and the costume lady took me to find me the track official suit. When we got to the rack with the suits, there was only one left, and it looked like it could fit a small child. At that point, I was well over 200 lbs. and most likely couldn't squeeze into it without looking silly. She then took me to the casting director.

The casting director was informed of the costume situation. She then looked over her list. She told me she could make me a "Derby Fan," which in extras term is "one of the crowd." She also told me I would have two different days to be there. I graciously accepted even though in my mind, I was ready to purchase a blue suit with red pants. I wanted to throw myself at their mercy. Instead, I was set to be a Derby Fan.

The Arby's Curse! After I got fitted to look like a lower class Brady, I drove home a little disappointed, but still grateful I was going to see a large production being shot. I got a sub for the two days given and got every thing lined up to work as an extra in a Disney film.

On the day of filming, our call time was 6 a.m. which meant I needed to be up and gone by 4:30 a.m. When I arrived, I was directed where to park. I stood in yet another line to check in, then in another to get my costume. Apparently, there were going to be a lot of extras that day. We sat in a large area until we were called. It was about 9 a.m. before they started having us go out and stand in the Paddock area.

As they herded us out to crowd around, directions were given to pantomime instead of actually cheering because it could scare the horses. I wanted to make sure I positioned myself to make sure I was seen once the camera passed. Then I began to see familiar faces.

The first person I saw was Nelsen Ellis, who played Lafayette on "True Blood." Then out came John Malkovich, Diane Lane and Margo Martindale. My inside self was ready to erupt. I watched every move they made. I was particularly intrigued when an assistant held an umbrella over Diane Lane in between shots.

Once finished, we went to lunch at the usual time of 3 p.m! We were herded through the lunch line and had to hurry up and eat. They were trying to get some shots with the horses running. We were escorted and placed around the track. They ran the horses twice. Then they called it a day.

Due to weather, they decided to break up the extras into two groups by name. I would have to come back another day, but I had to make the decision to turn them down since I had already changed my schedule to become the "Derby Fan."

The lesson learned was that I did it. I am captured somewhere on film, and I can point out where I was standing when a line was said. I can even point out the "Track Officials." I did it, and it started me on a trek that I never expected.