When I was growing up in Los Angeles I once asked my Dad, "Dad, what do critics do and how do they get a job like that?"

His response: "They try to tell you what you should like and don't like. Think for yourself, boy, and make up your own mind. If you're any son of mine, you'll listen to what I tell you."

Hmm ... dad answered my question, and I guess by his definition, he was a critic himself ... interesting ...

As the years went by and I amassed enough money through my paper routes and flower-seed sales, I found that one of my favorite pastimes was to go to the movies and get a large Coke and two cylinders of Flicks. For those of you too young to know what a "cylinder of Flicks" is, go back to texting your friends — no need to read further. I often loved to watch Westerns, specifically John Wayne Westerns, where the bad guys wore black hats and Mr. Wayne wore a white one. I didn't have to think about a plot; I only needed to root for the good guys.

Fast forward to my late teens and early 20s, when I still enjoyed a bottle of Coke and two Flick containers, but my taste in movies had changed. I no longer wanted to have who was good and who was bad laid out so clearly for me. Heck, I was going to college, and since I was now "smart," I figured that the nuances of plot and character development were no longer beyond my mental reach. So, on my very own, I went to see "The Godfather" with some of my high school and college pals. We talked at length about the movie when we stopped at Winchell's Donuts after the show. Granted, our guy talk revolved primarily around the horse head in the guy's bed, but nonetheless we talked about the plot and the family metaphors in the movie. I felt so grown up that night, discussing the "artistic" side of a film. I also picked up some dressing and demeanor tips from Al Pacino's character, in hopes it would help me with the ladies ... that part didn't work.

That weekend, I read Charles Champlin's L.A. Times "critical review" of the movie. The depth of his insights and how he pieced together the characters and their development, their relationship to life and one another, left me in awe. No longer did I feel the little immature conversation my friends and I had after the movie had any validity. We were indeed mere infants, compared to Mr. Champlin's insights. From that day, my first "critical hero" was born. I followed his reviews often, and more times than not took his advice over my friends when selecting a movie. Over time, I found that I didn't always agree and in some case completely disagreed with his views, but was always glad I went to the movie.

But even as an adult, critics like Charles Champlin were a mystery to me. Who are these people that hide behind a byline, and are they real people? What makes them think they can tell any of us what to think or pick for entertainment with our hard-earned after-tax dollars? Do they sit in dark rooms eating Cheetos while drinking Jack Daniels, furiously typing on their IBM Selectrics? I needed an answer to these questions.

"John Orr. Hmm. I've seen his name many times. He occasionally uses Mark and Tracy photographs in his reviews of theatrical performances. He is a big guy, much bigger physically than I am, and I've seen him at some events. Since I'm doing features on theatre community folks who aren't in front of the curtain and I've always been intrigued with critic,s I'll ask him if he'd like to talk with me."

Those were my thoughts when I first approached John at a TheatreWorks Opening. I walked up to him and asked, "Are you John Orr?" Slowly, very slowly, this imposing man turned toward me and with an expression and tone I can only compare to the officer who gave me my first traffic ticket, simply answered "YES!"

Ah, so glad we got past that first part. So I introduced myself as the Mark of Mark & Tracy. His expression and demeanor changed almost immediately, and I chalked it up to mentioning Tracy's name. Everyone loves Tracy! So John and I set a date and time when I would have the chance to talk with him. Oh, and, of course, photograph him as well.

It turns out that in addition to our mutual love of being occasionally crabby, John and I share a love of Southern California's Mohave desert. John has not always called Northern California his home, having grown up in the Antelope Valley, in Lancaster. Turns out our paths must have crossed at some point in that arid but beautiful area, since my dad and I desert-raced our motorcycles in that area. We spoke both longingly and with much passion about Joshua Trees and their magnificence. His grandfather moved from the East Coast and settled in Antelope Valley. I'm not sure what attracted John's grandfather to the desert, but it certainly instilled an appreciation of the quiet grandeur of the area in John.

It was during that interchange that John moved from being a byline on a computer screen and paper, to a man with whom I shared many intersections in life.

John has three children, one of whom followed in his footsteps into journalism — Sarah is a photojournalist in Florida. As gruff as John likes to appear, when he speaks of his daughter's success in journalism, there is a sparkle in his eye, the very same one any father worth a nickel has when he speaks of his daughter. It's yet another connection we share, since I, too, have an adult daughter of whom I'm very proud. His daughter Yasemin is in college; his 10-year-old son, Riley, is in middle school.

Yet another connection: John and I worked in Orange County, back in the 1980s. John worked for the Orange County Register as a designer, editor and writer. Back in the day when newspapers flourished, that was quite the position to hold. John eventually moved up to the Bay Area, where he currently resides in Sunnyvale with his wife and Riley. At the San Jose Mercury News, he was also a writer, editor and designer. He was there when The Mercury News won a Pulitzer Prize for its coverage of the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake. So we share something else in common. John's a Pulitzer Prize winner, and I won a spelling bee back in 3rd Grade! LOL!

Yet the most scary intersection we share is our work for PlayStation. John did his stint for SCEA before I did my time there, but it is incredible that a man I had only known as a name on a screen paralleled my life so closely, yet we look nothing alike ... curious.

John's passions include theatre. He wrote about theatre in Southern California, years ago, seeing such impressive performers as Anthony Hopkins, Zero Mostel, Harvey Fierstein and Morgan Freeman on L.A. stages. But at the Mercury News, someone else was always the theatre critic, up to and including Karen D'Souza. So, John wrote about books and blues music.

One thing about John, he's not a guy who's full of himself. When we were discussing the role of critics in today's environment, he boldly stated, "Both Robert Hurwitt (at the San Francisco Chronicle) and Karen (D'Souza) are better theatre critics than I am."

We began to talk about how the newspaper world has changed, and no one knows better than John about the Web's impact on traditional papers.

John has started Regarding Arts, (www.regardingarts.com,) an arts site he hopes to expand well beyond the Bay Area.

Many people "speak" of what they'd like to do, so it's really refreshing to witness and get to know someone like John who is taking action to bring the arts back to their days of glory. He's also a musician. It's amazing to see the transformation of his face when he opens his guitar case and picks up that instrument. I look forward to hearing him play, some day.

John explained that if he ever won the lottery and had "millions of dollars," he would put together the best arts-writing and photographic talent he's encountered and put together an arts site that would give the public the ability to have a viable and reliable source for their entertainment dollars. He didn't win the lottery, but went ahead with the idea anyway. Well John, if your tenacity is any indication, I'll put money on your dream coming true.

So how do I feel about getting to know a real life "critic" a little better? Sitting among books which occupy four surrounding walls, I can say this: John is truly passionate about the arts, and works tirelessly to help keep the theatrical art form alive and well. I'm sure that he and I will not ever agree on every review he ever writes, but I'll never bet against someone so committed to his craft. Thanks for being around John, and thanks for helping all that is theatre.