Sunday, July 30, 2006

E is for Egypt.

It has been brought to my attention that the "E" in "BFE" stands for "Egypt." As in "Bum Fuck Egypt." This proves you - or more specifically I - can learn something new. Today the incoherent ramblings of the mostly uniformed has become a bit more coherent and a bit more informed. See... change is possible.

Thank you Michelle.

witty repartee and my iPod

One thing I have always wanted was the ability to have quick witty repartee. You know, the ability to come up with that zinger, that one-liner that puts all to shame. OK, not shame, but makes you feel that you are the one with the highest IQ in the room and no one, no one, can touch you.

I've never been that guy. The closest I've come is being the brunt of that guy's rapier parry to position 3 slice. For those of you who are not sword wielders or trained by the Society of American Fight Directors to wield a rapier or dagger that means the piercing jabs of verbal and intellectual giants - at least in their minds.

I'm a smart guy. I know this. It's been corroborated by various IQ tests and my mother's insistence. But smart versus quick... which would you choose? Maybe it's my desire to be liked that finds me leaning toward quick? All the great improv actors are quick. All the great debaters and public speakers have been quick. Mind you they have all been real smart as well. Uh... can I request to be smart and quick or has that option gone the way of the dodo?

Regardless, I'm still working on this industrial and some of the guys I'm working with are real quick. Real quick. the reason I bring it up. If I were a sensitive man - ok more sensitive than I am - I'd probably take their quips serious and feel left out in the cold while they played in the cabin of fun's warmth. Right - really bad writing and really stupid visual metaphor. So, that's that and right about now I'm wondering why I write these things. In the end what does it really matter what anyone thinks. We all have our charm, well, most of us anyway. And that charm, or uniqueness, or whatever you want to call it is what makes us who we are. That and social constraint as well as parental view points hammered in at a young age. And don't leave out the indomitable nature of the human spirit, our innate self. Change is possible, but at the base of it all we are who we are and that's all good. So, maybe it isn't a question of smart versus quick. Maybe I should just realize I'm quick enough and let it go. Yes. I think that's what I'm going to do.

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Earlier today, while waiting in my little 4 x 8 box of a trailer, I started going through songs on my iPod in order to create the perfect playlist. Yes I am that bored. While rooting around and choosing songs I realized that I have a subscription to a friend's podcast. He's a very cool guy, great actor and great writer. I found, as I was listening to his two latest podcasts, that i had two questions bouncing around in my mind. the first being: where does he come up with this stuff and does he write it or just shoot from the hip. and the second question: He just had jaw surgery, how the hell is he doing these podcasts? Now, I am sure if I really wanted to know the answers to either of these questions I could just pick up the phone and call him. I don't because that's the easy way out. I like the speculating and coming up with my own answers and making them truth. So back to point A. My buddy is a writer. a good one, and every week he has a new topic he is talking about. Each of these podcasts last about 4 minutes and leave you sort of looking up and making a "hmm" sound quietly to yourself. They aren't statements to change the world, their musings. Hence the name of his podcast "The Mineralava Musings."

Each week there is something new. Each week I quietly go "hmmm" to myself. That's impressive. That's something I have thought of doing. Well, OK, technically I am doing it by writing these blogs, but the point is he's doing it and not ranting or asking stupid questions. He's observing life and putting his personal view on it. To me, that is very cool. Nothing more nothing less. Very cool. My buddy is very put together and very good at moving himself in the direction he wants to go in. In essence he may be the modern example of what a jobbing actor is - he makes his living doing it, administers brilliantly, knows his casting and knows what he wants to have in the end. While doing all this he is not obsessed with the need to have the career and lives a rather sane and happy life. Who can say that about their life, really?

As I stated before - I have never talked to him about any of this so it is all conjecture. But, with conjecture comes a paradigm to which one can hope to surpass. In essence this guy has become a stabile image of what I am looking to achieve. Whether he is truly happy or truly content or truly miserable or truly anything other than what he is, the image I have created enables me to say "look there is something in life that is achievable." We can all say I want to be the next DiNiro or I want to be the next Brando or the next insert-a-celebrity-name-here. And that's all good. But is it really achievable? Let's look around at the people we know who are happy - or seemingly happy - and say what have they accomplished to achieve that state. Because a wise man once said happy is not a state to be sought after, instead one should look to what they can accomplish and happiness will be the byproduct of the job well done.

So go forth young grasshopper and look to what you can achieve. The possibilities are limitless and out there waiting for the picking. Oh to truly live like that. A consummation devoutly to be wished.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

same shoot different tarmac

The funny thing about the film and television world is that nothing is what it appears to be. Yesterday I was out in the 124 degree heat for 13 hours. OK, that's not entirely true. I was in 98 degree and later 110 degree heat for maybe a total of 2 hours but in the actual sun for 20 total minutes. I was sitting in a trailer with luke-warm air-conditioning for most of the day. So I never really experienced the 124 degree heat. That, however, is not the point. The point is that I'm shooting an industrial for Toyota and we are almost exclusively using airports. The tarmac of the Inyokern airport, a hanger at the Santa Monica airport: these all double for some other place. The same shoot, different tarmac. In the end they are going to splice together the two locations into one and make it look like some top-secret Toyota testing facility. The irony of that is we were shooting in the shadow of the China Lake Naval testing facility. One of the shining accomplishments of this facility is the construction of "Fat Man" - the plutonium implosion device that was dropped on Nagasaki. Yeah, nuclear bombs! Yippie! Kazam! Wa hooo! One fictional testing facility in the desert oh so close to the genuine article.

We all know that nothing is what it seems to be in Hollywood. Hell, Hollywood isn't what it seems to be. To quite my friend Rebecca Metz - LA is just a grand backdrop, nothing's real in the city, it's all fake.

There's a statement that passes for a bad joke – nobody's actually from LA. To that end, even the trees are transplants. Palm trees are not indigenous to southern California. They were brought from Miami. Yup.

This industrial is not what it seems to be. It is Toyota’s way of saying “our truck is better than your truck.” But it isn’t an independent test, it’s a rigged shoot to make the crimson Tacoma come out shinning ahead! They even put that cool spray on the tires to make them sparkle. The other trucks didn’t get the cool spray. But in the end it can’t be false advertising, right? I think the jury is out on that one. This isn’t a commercial, it’s an in-house 20 minute film. So really they can say anything they want and, well, that’s that.

Toyota is sparing no expense, either. This Industrial is going to have some big has-been names. I think if I were to mention them I'd be sued so I'll wait until the thing hits the internet before I say anymore. The idea is cute, but trite – typical Hollywood. The script was probably written by committee, which translates to watered down drivel that is attempting to appeal to the widest demographic possible, which translates to watered down drivel. But it's an Industrial and not some great work of art so let's just leave it be and not speak ill of it any more than I have. In fact, I summarily take back all I've written because they are paying me well and I don't want it to seem as though I am complaining. I am not. I am very happy to have this job. Especially since I've heard we may be moving into an extra day of shooting!

A job is a job is a job. This business is very good and very bad. A painter is critiqued based on technique and aesthetics - but always on something that they produce. An actor is the painting is the actor so the critique - and more specifically, the criticism - is personal. It is a hard job especially for the jobbing actor who lives paycheck to paycheck - most working actors in the business. The mass majority are waiters or bookstore clerks For the select few who are getting paid the astronomical salaries this does not apply. They are critiqued, and sometimes harshly, but in the end, if they have invested well they are going to be able to pay the mortgage and take care of their kids college funds.

I will continue to work on the same shoot but different tarmac as long as I am able. Each shoot, each show, each film and each play are the same shoot, different tarmac. All fun, all exciting, all new and all full of their own difficulties. So in the end there is nothing I'd rather be doing that sitting here and getting paid to do what I love to do for 20 minutes in the blaring heat of the Inyokern airport located in the midst of the Mojave Desert. I have to head now because I'm needed on set.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

FREE WHAT??!?!

I just had to write something about this because when does this ever happen? Of course, the more important question is when do I ever travel to experience this phenomenon?

OK. So this month's been good to me. I got a couple of mild sized residual checks from First Daughter, I worked 4 days on a new show Lincoln Heights, one day on a new show Standoff and, now, three days on a Toyota Industrial. This has afforded me the ability to buy air conditioners for my apartment, new motorcycle gloves, a new motorcycle jacket and a season subscription to the Geffen Playhouse. And, hell I can pay my rent! I'm a simple guy with simple needs. But the kicker to this month was found mere moments ago...

Right now I am in Inyokern. I think that's where I am. At least that's what the airport is called. Basically I'm 40 miles north of Mojave. 150 miles north of LA - just a stone throw away from the China Lake Naval Weapons base. A moment please... what the fuck is a naval base doing in the middle of the desert? Right. Thought so. Oh, and I accidentally drove onto the base - the guards, not the happiest bunch. Anyhow, middle of nowhere California and staying at the Carriage Inn. Nice place. Actually, really nice for the middle of nowhere - I was going to write middle of BFE, but it dawned on me that I have no idea what the “E” stands for.

Well, sitting at the little desk of the room of the Carriage Inn and what do I find?

Wait for it...

Wait for it...

FREE INTERNET ACCESS!!!

Yup. It's the simple things in life that really get me going. Free internet access. How cool is that? And why did I bring my computer? How much of a geek am I?

Well, there you have it. A blog posting about nothing. This really is the incoherent ramblings of the mostly uninformed.

Off to bed to wake up in 5 hours to sit outside in the hot desert sun for 12 hours as "analyst #7." There are only 7. I don't know what the hierarchy is or if there is one, but 7 out of 7? Dude why couldn't I be like #2 or #4. I feel like the kid at school who got picked last for the team. Wait. Never mind that. They're paying me. I don't care anymore.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

With Friends like these...

I will not name names and I will not reference professions. Just so we have that clear I will now launch into a most disconcerting experience. You know that saying "with friends like these, who needs enemies?" Well, my God. With friends like these who needs enemies indeed.

Last Saturday I played the first gig I've played in 5 years. I have picked up my guitar and played here and there. Mostly to my TV during boring shows. But in public, not so much. Once upon a time I had a regular Sunday night show at a local restaurant. That ended and the restaurant changed hands. Surprisingly, after the possession change the restaurant became popular and is now one of those Hollywood hotspots on Saturday and Sunday mornings. But I digress... Back to last Saturday.

Remember this: I haven't played in public for five years.

So I got this gig through a guy on myspace who found my page and asked me if I'd like to do 30 minutes in an acoustic showcase. I said yes, of course, because why own a $3000 guitar if you're not going to play it. I sent out my cards I cajoled my friends I invited two girls my parents met in Aspen white water rafting. In all I must have hit somewhere in the range of 1200 people - I have access to a very large e-mail database. Many of these people I haven't spoken in a long time. One in particular is a pretty big man on campus in his chosen profession, very good at what he does. He called me 20 minutes before I went on stage and told me he'd be there. He was actually one of the last I expected to show, but, hey, great! I like him he's a good guy and I'd love to get his opinion on the music.

So I thought.

Well, I introduced him to an ex, got distracted and then I was up! He sat in the front, next to the girl and even bought her a drink. My other friends (numbering in the 20s or so) were all surrounding me and were listening with rapt attention. I played my heart out. Some told me it was the best I played and the best I sounded. Two friends were speechless and one went so far to say "I knew you were good, but I didn't know you were that good." A returned compliment that I had given her.

But where was the "friend" in question when it was all over? I saw him get up at some point between the last two songs. Oh well, I didn't really think about it. The thought came back a little while later so I called and left him a message. "Hey, I missed you, hope you liked it, give me a call."

OK, I'm going to take a moment here to state something I don't normally put down in writing or say out loud: I was very good that night. Probably the best I've been in a while. I rehearsed and it paid off.

Well, I went out and got drunk with my friends, had some sushi and went home very satisfied with the night. In all, very successful.

The next day I went about my business, did laundry, fixed another friends computer and even had a voice over audition. At that audition I got a message from said "friend." "Hey, I was there. I had to leave. I'll tell you why. I just had to. If you want, give me a call." Or something like that. So when I got out of the audition I called. And well, what followed was rather unexpected.

He answered the phone "What do you want?"
"It's Adam. I'm returning your call."
"Fine, I'm hung over and I have to go to the circus today." it was 2:30pm.
"Well, that sounds like fun." Sarcasm, see?
"You're probably going to tell me to go fuck myself, but..." and the rest was 15 minutes of virulent, suppressive, bile-laden verbal berating unlike any I have ever experienced. I was told I was over rehearsed and it was offensive to the audience. I was told that he was so angry watching me play that he wanted to get up and throttle me. I was told I should just play the songs and not fuck them up by performing them for other people. "Just play the songs" was repeated over and over throughout the diatribe. It was asked of me "who the fuck do you think you are?" Because I'm no Rolling Stones or other band that is of quality. Then, and this is the kicker, he brought up a one man show I did last year. At the end of the show I did a question and answer session. "Who the fuck do you think you are? The show was the most pretentious piece of shit I've ever seen. I mean what the fuck was with the Q & A? Who do you think you are? DiNiro? You're not that good and you’ll probably never be." Or something like that.

"Friend." Right?

I asked him why he didn't tell me about the show before. He didn't really have an answer.

So, in the end I was left with that. A successful big wig in his chosen profession mercilessly tore me apart for no other reason than he could. As I see it, the vehemence with which he went after me was fueled by the year of not saying what he wanted to say, but regardless of unspoken communications, this guy is so wrong it isn't funny. So wrong. Did I mention he's an alcoholic, drug addict who dates married women and wonders why he's miserable all the time? No wonder I got the short straw with him. I was being brought down to his level of mediocrity so that he could live one more day in a world that has no light and no enthusiasm. A world beset by war and violence where most people are looking or how they can capitalize on it as opposed to end it. He's a very unhappy individual. We'll leave it at that.

I wish him no ill, just that he wakes up one day and desires to change his state. Do I think it will happen? No. But that doesn't stop me for wishing it on him.

Now, please don't mistake that last statement for altruism. I hope he finds all that, but only right before he gets hit by a bus.

With friends like these, indeed.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Again with the customer service

I think it’s me, I really do. Or customer service is so bad that the whole world is just apathetic about it and cannot deal. Since I'm paranoid I'll go with the first. That gives me a little more faith in mankind.

A major telephone company in Southern California that was just bought out by the company that was broken up in the early eighties for having a monopoly on the telecommunications and who shall remain nameless is now the new bane of my existence. Since I just moved I figured I'd be smart and call ahead to have my service hooked up by the time I was settled in as opposed to moving and waiting a week. 2 weeks early I called. The service was to be set up on the 1st and DSL ready to go on the 3rd. The 1st came and went, so did the 2nd and there was no dial tone. So on morning of the 3rd I called their 800 number and that's where the fun began. It began with the automated guy who asks questions to better direct your call but never understands what you're saying and always asks you to repeat yourself. Oh, he sounds friendly, but when you have him ask the same question over and over and over again with no change in his oh-so cheery inflection it can become down-right maddening. That lead to being bounced around to 7 different people all in different departments none of which communicates with the other. The final person actually tried to be helpful. He got another a technician liaison on the phone and I had 2 people telling my service wasn't going to be turned on any time soon, at the same time! 1 hour, one minute and 40 seconds later I was getting off the phone with no solution to my problem. I was told that someone could come on Wednesday - 4 days after it was supposed to be hooked up.

Well, I got off the phone after yelling a bit and trying to understand how I was going to be penalized for someone else's mistake - the technician came, couldn't find the junction box and left without giving me the courtesy of a note. So I called back after I left the meeting I was late to - this was 1 hour later - and a nice woman, probably in her late 40s informed me that no one could hook up my service until Friday and there was no one who could change that. So I asked to speak to a manager. She told me one could call me back but that won't help. In fact no one in the company could change the hook up date. There was no one I could talk to and no one who could help me. BIG COMPANY little person. That's right, the company owns us and there's nothing we can do about it. That was the message this 40 something lady was imparting to me. Well, suffice it to say there was a bit of yelling on my part.

I figured I'd call a technician directly - one who had helped me with my boss' phone. He offered to look into it but made no promises to being able to hook up the phone line. A prince among men, truly. I mean this sincerely because my friend the technician called me the next day and sadly he was unable to help me directly, but he "reminded" me of the manager's direct number and wished me the best.

Long story not so short - the manager sent someone out to me today and will most likely push my order through business affairs to have the dial tone turned on. So a silver lining by the names of German, Dennis and James. None of which work for customer service and all of which were truly helpful.

Customer service is designed to keep you in a loop so long you get frustrated and give up. The more automated the service the more likely you're going to say "fuck it" and apathetically deal with your problem. You'll no doubt be frustrated at first, but that will pass and you can look forward to drooling on yourself and sitting in a pile of your own filth. This is what the big corporations, the big companies, are hoping for. I'm sure there is a room of older gentlemen who all sit around and wonder how they can create more money and less work. Customer Service seems to be the 1st place they looked and the days of a person who takes pride in his work talking to you and genuinely helping you find what you're looking for are long gone. You'll be lucky to even get a person. And if they are sitting in America and not in some distant land with a computer screen giving them a set of if/then situations consider yourself lucky. The truth of the matter is it will only get worse unless someone finds a way to change the current trend moving away from person to person communication. Pretty soon we won't have the random person sitting waiting for the poor schmuck who braved the Minotaur maze of automation. Pretty soon, if we're so unlucky, it will all me automation made to sound like the cheerful helpful soul of a time long gone.

Beware. The likelihood of companies looking to run your life is high and in most cases may already be happening.