Jere M. Foley II's Blog

Jere produces distinct characters, accents, and emotions delivering a professional level of fun and gravitas in equal measure.

Private studio, excellent microphone and pre-amp, and up-to-date software ensure quick turnaround for your project.

Jere focused on the microphone arts in early 2015, and can provide hours of audiobook, podcast, and commercial samples.

It’s time to go public with my current project! I’ve been the caretaker of a fully electric car for 6-months. I’ve journaled the ins and outs, taken photos, and started videos. The book is well underway. You can learn more at https://www.patreon.com/jerefoley

Once one’s goals are defined, it’s time to take action. But what if you’re already in the middle of something like a project or a day job? When an actor is faced with a tough choice about accepting a role, there are a couple guiding questions that coaches ask.

Due to recent events, I’ve begun my quest to cull the unhelpful and/or harmful activities. Sounds good, right? Except… I need some standard of measurement. So I’ve adapted the actor’s guidelines into a more general daily guide of where I should spend my energy.

Here’s what my current matrix looks like:

Obviously, a zero is completely unhelpful and/or harmful. A five though, that’s the sweet spot, the best place to be.

As for the categories, here’s a bit about what each category means:

Grow, Learn, Develop? — Does the work challenge you? Do you get to expand your skills into something new you’ve never done before? How can you benefit from the experience? Is it going to be fun as well as rewarding? Is the atmosphere a good one to be in?

Work With Career Builders? — Are you working with industry leaders you admire? Will you have the chance to learn from someone very talented and/or respected actors? Will the mentors and colleagues act to help better your future? Will the experience move your career forward if you surround yourself with successful and accomplished people who ensure a better quality of work?

Does Compensation Make Up For Above? — Maybe the task is less than brilliant and the people have no interest in your personal growth or well-being, but does it offer good money? We all have bills to pay… will the work bring monetary profit? Sometimes if an endeavor offers you good money, it’s possible they may hire other great people to make it succeed or other talented professionals to bring the project up to speed.

As I applied these questions to the primary activities in my life, the answers came quickly and easily. I felt like I should have known all along. That’s easy to say but harder to grasp when you’re going about your day. Once I finished graphing the tasks out it seemed obvious where I should spend my energy.

But that was only the “reward” part of the picture. Luckily the desire to graph had a hold on me, so I plugged the hours dedicated to each task into the following Energy Expended Weekly graph:

Yes… I work a 50-hour work week. Though some of it is in that amazing sweet spot where I’m being challenged and love it.

16 hrs/week: Voice acting? LOVE IT. It’s tough work sometimes, and pretty physically demanding. It’s also lonely – but there’s a great V.O. community that I’m discovering. And yeah, it’s been a steady (if slow) growing income.

5 hrs/week: Podcasting? LOVE IT. Huge potential for working with experts and amazing people. The behind-the-scenes work is lonely and sometimes really kind of a slog… but I’m not giving it up. If anything, recent attacks on the media has made it feel more important. Even if I’m currently back down to one podcast and the admin work to keep it moving.

4 hrs/week: Writing? LOVE IT! To be fair, writing is probably my first love. I’ve shifted genre-focus for a project, but that’s been a great challenge in entirely new ways. Conversely, it’s been a low-income generator and I’ve had to prioritize other things first. Which makes my spirit cry. A lot.

25 hrs/week: “Day Job.” This truth hurt to admit because I knew it was coming and feel like I should have known better. This “job” no longer teaches me new skills. It is uncaring about my own personal goals or betterment. And… it’s not financially rewarding. I’d challenge it to be the best job it could be, but even upper-level management called it a “sinking ship that’s not going to get better.” So its days are numbered.

Thankfully, I’m almost over my bronchial infection. I can actually make it an hour without coughing. Which means it’s time to get back on the mic as much as possible… and I find that very, very exciting!

Now… There’s one last thing to do lest this whole post becomes a pointless “Paralysis by Analysis” …

Set Goals

The best goals are Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Results-Oriented, and Trackable (I first learned about SMART goals here https://www.projectsmart.co.uk/smart-goals.php).

So… Goal #1: Voice Acting as Primary Income by Mid-summer

Let’s break it down:

Specific: “Voice Acting as Primary Income” pretty much says it.
Measurable: I ask you, what’s more measurable than your monthly income?  (Billionaires need not answer that.)
Attainable: Not only am I already doing the work, the income bar has been set pretty darned low by my “Day Job.” So in voice-acting, a combination of royalty-share plus pay-up-front contracts will replace that income.
Reasonable: The challenge I have presented myself is utterly reasonable. Again, the bar’s set pretty low.
Trackable: Weekly check-ins between Monday, March 20 and Tuesday, June 20. Or if you’re following my druidic studies – that’s weekly check-ins from the vernal equinox to summer solstice.

I have a couple mini-goals to complete before I officially start this challenge, so yes I’m allowing myself a bit of an early start. But I’m committed to weekly updates. Maybe not here – I’m not sure who’d care – but I’ve set up a tracking board in my home studio. It’s time for improvements.

Well what do you know? I’ve come to a conclusion about what “I Should” vs. “I Shouldn’t”  And I say… “Game on!”

I love travel. Specifically, travel with a purpose. Whether it be a pilgrimage or adventure the journey fuels my creative soul. One of my life dreams is to explore the Seven Wonders of the World – not just the Ancient list, but the Medieval and New lists as well.

Imagine my surprise this morning when I learned I’d already completed a Seven Wonders list!?!

I give you my experiences with the Seven Man-Made Wonders of Wisconsin, as compiled by Travel Wisconsin:

✓ Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame & Museum (Hayward, WI)

I was maybe all of six or seven years old when we visited this WI Wonder. I know I didn’t really appreciate the dedication to preserving our state’s fishing culture, but man did I have a great afternoon climbing around on the giant 4-story Muskie statue!

✓ Lambeau Field (Green Bay)

I’ve never actually attended a football game at Lambeau, but I’ve been to an evening event. I mean black tie and cocktails at Lambeau? You better believe I was all over seeing the place in a different light!

✓ Milwaukee Art Museum (Milwaukee)

Quite possibly one of my favorite architectural wonders in the Midwest, I make sure to drive past it every time I’m in Cream City. If it’s summer, and I’ve got time to spare, I love wandering this lakeside shrine to art.

✓ Noah’s Ark Waterpark (Wisconsin Dells)

Another much-loved fun spot of my youth and young adulthood. It holds the honor of being the place where my parents first saw a tattoo on my body. Boy THAT was an afternoon! Apparently I presented my position well. Each of my parents now wears a (small) piece of ink.

✓ Taliesin (Spring Green)

The Frank Lloyd Wright chapter of my life was woefully short. I tried so hard to see what all the hoopla was about. I love some of the concepts (in prose) behind his art. He called it Organic Architecture, and each structure was to be designed for its environment. At their core, those words appeal to me. But then I toured several of his works, and they never sang to me. The lines are too heavy for my liking, the corners seem somehow too sharp. I don’t see them as organic, I see them as a weird fusion of field stone and art deco.

✓ The House on the Rock (Spring Green)

Merely a continuation of the FLW chapter, I’ve been to the House on the Rock so many times I should be granted permanent access. That said, I DID waltz in the Infinity Room before they roped it off, and I HAVE ridden the same merry-go-round where Neil Gaiman sat the gods.

✓ Wisconsin Concrete Park (Phillips)

Best for last, right? While driving into Phillips one hot summer day I was treated to one of the greatest WTF moments of my life. A snowmobile shot down the hill and skimmed across the blue waters of the lake. Once the driver was most of the way across, the crowd cheered. I watched dumbfounded for several more racers before I noticed a water crane on-hand to retrieve the rigs of riders who didn’t maintain their balance. It was a thing… an honest event. Open Water Snowmobile races.

Because of that hilarious festival on the lake, I didn’t make it to the Concrete Park until sunset. Wisconsin Travels says: “Although the park never closes, it is best seen during daylight hours.” Heed well this warning! Concrete horses with bits of sparkly glass embedded in their flanks may look dreamy at high noon, but in the shadows of the deepening dark they become glass-spined demons of terror. I mentally return to the phantasms I experienced that evening every time I need to write a horror scene.

Quite by accident, I completed a Wonders list! I’m still laughing. I honestly thought I’d have the Medieval Wonders checked off first. But that’s Wisconsin for you. This state worms its way into your heart and before you know it, it’s home.

Added…

I have been asked twice what the Wonders lists are and which I’ve visited. I’ll write MUCH more on them later, so for now here’s a preview:

Ancient Wonders of the World

✓ Great Pyramid of Giza

❏ Hanging Gardens of Babylon

❏ Statue of Zeus at Olympia

❏ Temple of Artemis at Ephesus

❏ Mausoleum at Halicarnassus

❏ Colossus of Rhodes

❏ Lighthouse of Alexandria

(The only ancient world wonder that still exists is the Great Pyramid of Giza, but I at least want to get to the other sites.)

Medieval Wonders of the World

(Sometimes called Middle Age Wonders of the World)

✓ Stonehenge

✓ Colosseum

✓ Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa

❏ Great Wall of China

❏ Porcelain Tower of Nanjing

❏ Hagia Sophia

❏ Leaning Tower of Pisa

Sometimes includes:

✓ Cluny Abbey

✓ Cairo Citadel (also known as the Saladin Citadel)

❏ Taj Mahal

❏ Ely Cathedral

New Seven Wonders of the World

✓ Colosseum

✓ Chichen Itza

❏ Great Wall of China

❏ Petra

❏ Christ the Redeemer

❏ Machu Picchu

❏ Taj Mahal

✓ Great Pyramid of Giza (Honorary Candidate)

I am often amused at the long-tail game karma takes with some people.

For the years I’ve been with Jason, he’s always said the same snide thing every time he sees a Lexus. Imparting as much derision a middle-class man can muster, he’d say, “Lexus get a new car.” I think he was making a crack about Lexus breaking down and therefore not worth the expense. He said it every time he saw one.

“Lexus go get a new car.”

Every.

Damned.

Time.

Since my accident, we’ve been in car limbo while the insurance company works its end of the deal. They’ve been great – don’t think I’m at all upset. I’m not at all. But each hour of the unknown feels like forever.

Once we had the estimate from the body shop (ouch), it seemed pretty clear the insurance company would opt to scrap it.

Thus began our hunt for something that would satisfy Jason’s list of requirements and still have a few desirable extras. It’s amazing how quickly that list narrowed the choices.

The FJ Cruiser was no longer being made. The Highlander was too big and bus-like. So he came down a class.

After many YouTube test drive videos – a whole long night of them – he was down to the Toyota RAV4 and the Jeep Renegade Trailhawk.

Several model-specific videos later, the Jeep had eliminated itself.

Yet, what he liked in the Rav4 test drive videos (i.e. the 2017 model) isn’t being sold yet.

Lots of grumbling and deep sighs later, he tripped over a listing for a barely-used Lexus NX200-T. It’s the Lexus version of the RAV4. It had every one of the features he wanted, with a better engine, and only 11,000 miles on it.

That led to the emotional tornado. Should he? Shouldn’t he? What did I think? What would other people think?

I pointed out that I was never the one who had a problem with the Lexus. I prefer the better engine, better safety features, and upgraded amenities. I then pointed out that because it had been a fleet vehicle for a limited time, the low mileage had been well-maintained low mileage. But because of its fleet history it qualifies for used car pricing.

“But it’d be my first ‘luxury’ car!”

“True,” nodded this Maverick, “and your Mustang had been your first sports car, and the FJ had been your first off-road vehicle, and I was your first weirdo. Don’t be scared of this particular first.”

That was exactly the right wisdom to get him to laugh and test drive it.

Dang that was a nice ride. The trail-rated FJ attacked the street like a high-end truck looking for a muddy path. By comparison, the NX200-T made smooth love to the road.

It did not take long to win Jason over. After precious few smooth, corner-snogging miles the Lexus was foremost on Jason’s list.

Now we’re just waiting for the insurance to finalize the details, but the dealer is holding the NX for him. I hope that means I’ll only have to hear Jason’s stock statement one more time. Once he has the check in hand, I hope to hear happiness replace derision in his voice when he says, “Lexus go get the new car.”

Seriously.

When I was 16, a deer flew across the main street in front of the Hardee’s of my home town and charged the windshield of my dad’s new car while I was driving.  Out of nowhere this rampaging buck filled my vision. My dad had just bought the car to take on a family trip the next week. He’d been in the back seat with a bad back.

In the manner of a truly invincible teenager, I don’t remember being worried  about myself at all. Instead, I was terrified the crash had just thrown my dad around the car, hurting his back further.

And the windscreen was smashed in. The deer’s shoulder had pushed in the window frame in front of the passenger.

The deer didn’t have insurance.

If there’s a funny point, it was the novelty t-shirt I’d been wearing. “Wisconsin Shark Hunter’s Association.”  It even had a fake bite out of it. The officer, upon seeing the shredded shirt with the screen printed blood, needed both my dad and I to convince him it wasn’t my innards that were torn up.

Well… not my physical innards.

I was pretty sure I’d not only ruined the family vacation, not to mention the new car, but I’d also killed a deer in cold blood. It all hit me hard, and I remember trying to be very grown up during the aftermath. I didn’t go emotionally numb until the officer asked if I wanted to take it home for venison. It’s probably a requirement in Wisconsin that he asked me that, but it put a capstone on the horror of it all.

Fast forward many years.

I was 23 or just barely 24. It was a horrid, snowy mess, and I was crawling along at less than 20 mph to start my 6am shift. I’d just exited a four-lane road, and was going down the ramp to turn left under the highway. In the dark and snow through my rear view mirror I noticed headlights coming in fast.

Too fast.

A huge late-70s Chrysler Land Yacht barreled into the back of my little Geo Tracker. He pushed me into a support pillar under the overpass. I saw my car’s hood pop open, the glove box exploded and mechanical bits landed in the passenger seat. Then I don’t remember anything for a while.

When I regained awareness, the Chrysler was gone. I didn’t have a mobile phone yet – they were still the purview of the wealthy – so I walked to the nearest place I found open and called it in. After my accordioned Tracker was hauled away, the officer finished his report and left. What I did next I can only chalk up to a combination of shock and poverty, and realistically it was probably mostly shock. I walked the 6.9 miles back home in the snow and didn’t speak to anyone for several days. I’d lost all faith in people over that. Not that the driver caused an accident, but that he drove off and left me.

I also lost my job thanks to their strict intolerance of the “no show.”

The police actually tracked down the Chrysler. Turned out its owner lived nearby. He was uninsured. So the whole thing ended with the city trying to fine ME for supposed damage to a cement pylon. I remember my insurance agent saying it was common for municipalities to blame the insured drivers so they had a hope in collecting something. So much for a fair justice system. The insurance company fought it. I have no idea how that ended up, but since I was an under-25 male, my rates went up though I was declared not at fault.

My faith in government and people has never quite been restored.

Which brings us to today.

I was on my way to pick up my parents from the airport. I was on a four-lane highway, about to  turn left onto another. This required me to stop at a light, then cross under and turn left at a second light. The similarities to my last accident make me feel cursed.

I stopped at the first light.

When it turned green I crossed under and began my left turn at the green arrow. Two oncoming lanes of cars were at a stop, so I didn’t see the car in the third, farthest lane flying at me until it was colliding with the passenger side of my fiancé’s car. I remember feeling airborne as I went up over a small bank of melted and refrozen ice, and I remember being sure I was going to tip over sideways as I came down the other side.

When the bouncing stopped, I was shaking. I’d hit my head on the side window and my hand hurt. I didn’t know where anything was.

I did my best check to see if I was alive. I’ve read too many stories where ghosts are standing right next to their bodies not sure what’d just happened. Pain is the indicator of life, though, so I moved on to trying to feel for broken bones. Once I’d determined nothing internal was grinding, I started looking for my phone. It’d flown out of my pocket into the passenger foot well. Unlike the last time, when I’d only called the police station, this time I called 911.

Help on the way. Time to call Jason. I hated doing it. Not because his favorite car of all time was totaled (that shame would hit me later), but because I knew he’d be frantic to get to me and I’d left him at home without a car. I didn’t want to do that to him. I wanted to be able to handle it somehow, but wisdom has come grudgingly with age.

So, I called him and added the final piece of crappy news to an already amazingly crappy weekend.

And then I had to let my parents know I wouldn’t be there to pick them up.

And I was running out of sunlight.

And you’re supposed to take your own pictures of accidents and I hadn’t done that yet.

So I tested my legs and climbed out to take pictures.

Then texted my mom a picture of the accident, and told her I was ok enough to get out and take pictures but wouldn’t be there to pick them up. As I knew they would be, they were far more worried about me than about getting an Uber.

And that’s the crux of it. I hate, no I LOATHE having to tell people … what? I needed help? I couldn’t make an obligation? I’ve just created a pile of crap for everyone? They’d have to watch me for signs of spinal injury? I’m imperfect? I’m mortal?

I can already feel myself retreating into a cave where nobody can see me. After all, out of sight, out of mind, right? I hope that by writing this down now, while it’s fresh, I can avoid the worst of my habitual need to hide or act like everything is ok.

Truth is, it’s not going to be okay, is it? Another person in another car was involved. They’re telling a completely different story, and they’re uninsured. Jason’s car has serious damage and I have no idea how that’ll play out. I can only type with one hand at the moment, and can’t turn my head to the right without wincing.

And I don’t want pity, but I fear I’m going to have to suck it up and accept some.

So I’ll save this post as is and ask Jason to read it and let me know if he’s ok with me posting it.

Then I’ll share. Probably gonna turn off the ability to comment on this post though. I’m not ready for comments. Just saying.

I have been staring at an empty white page for a couple of hours. My uncle Bob encouraged me to write my first novel. He encouraged me to try that first acting gig. He encouraged me toward academic excellence.

He died this afternoon.

The actual crisis happened the day before. He went into cardiac arrest and was out for too long. Though his heart was still beating, the damage had been done. Not even the most intelligent brain on the planet can think its way through to survive without oxygen. And he was easily the most intelligent man I’ve known.

A lifelong educator, and a university founder, he loved to see people succeed. Students, friends, families. Everyone. I think that was the only reward he sought when he reached out to encourage someone. Seeing them succeed was, to him, a blessing most divine.

I’m still speechless. I cannot imagine a world where his laughter won’t be a siren’s call daring me to set a new goal.

I wanted to say something really profound about death. But I’m failing. The best I’ve had so far is: Death is the ultimate thief, stealing from us that which is most precious – the souls of our loved ones.

My aunt, even though she’s grieving, has said a funeral is not the right way to honor Bob’s passing. Instead, she plans to hold a celebration of his life on what would be his next birthday. That is so appropriate. It’s what he’d do. When I heard her say it, I knew it was exactly what should be done.

Yet that pending life celebration is also a bit of thievery. I need my angry-cry. Anger that he’s been taken. Sorrow that he’s been taken. Maybe it’s partially selfish. Though I have seen first-hand the good he’s brought to people’s lives, and I feel sorrow for all who’ve lost him. But… yeah. I need my selfish angry-cry too. I’ll do that in private. Tonight. So that when the day comes to celebrate his life, I’ll be able to smile and laugh and talk about all the amazing good he did in this world.

I’ll miss you, Uncle.

It somehow feels wrong to announce that I’m starting my memoir on the day I hear Carrie Fisher died… but also somehow right. Her character, the passionate champion Princess Leia, embodied so many of the qualities I’ve aspired to grow into. Her first few scenes on Endor highlight almost all of them. Her fierce determination during the speeder bike race. Her gentle ambassadorship with Wicket who invites her to the Ewok Village where she’s accepted as a guest. Finally, the way she balances compassion and answer-seeking when Luke comes out to her as Vader’s son.  The range Carrie gave us in a few short scenes was masterful, and the depth of her character is rarely matched.

I’d already chosen to start my book telling about the time I convinced all of the neighborhood kids it’d be a brilliant idea to re-create the Ewok Village in my yard’s crab-apple trees using two-by-fours and twine. Set aside your adult brain and see it from a child’s perspective.  The crab-apple trees stood proud sentinel around the perimeter of the yard, much like the redwoods of Endor. To us, a two-by-four was more than wide enough to bridge the gap between trees. If you look closely at the Ewok Village in the film, it looks like MUCH of their dwelling is bound in some sort of twine anyway. We had everything we needed! And we were going to stomp the Empire right out of our neighborhood.

I didn’t set out to be the leader… but it was my idea. And I was the oldest. (Well, technically the second oldest, but the oldest was too cool to play with us.) So I divided up the work based on what I knew my friends could do. To the young ones I gave the task of unspooling twine. I asked the older ones to hold the boards in place. The ones in the middle had the job of tying it all together. While working on our tasks we shouted to each other in what we though was the language of the Ewok laborers.

It wasn’t long before I was shimmying out onto my first walkway. It was glorious! I was ready to fight the stormtroopers. My friends were swarming up their trees ready to do battle. I slithered forward another inch along my 2-x-4 walkway.

“You kids get down from there before you kill yourselves!” shrieked the Emperor.

My Ewok brethren dropped from their trees and ran!

I looked over the fence, as I was hovering just above it now, eye-level with the neighbor who owned the yard behind us. The Emperor had traded his robes for fisherman’s pants and a short-sleeved checkered shirt… but he was no less dangerous. “I’m going to tell your father what you all were doing,” he threatened.

I glanced ahead to where my perch connected with a shaking tree. It was lashed into place with so much twine, even a lightsaber would have a hard time cutting through it. Without my friends, there was no way I was getting this all down before my father found out. With none of Leia’s grace, but with maybe a smidgen of her grit, I looked the Emperor square in his eyes and said, “While you’re being a tattletale, you can tell him it was all my idea!”

Ok, I had a lot of growing to do… but the core was there.  I owe you a lot, Carrie Fisher. Thank you.