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LJ has been kind of buggy the past few days so some entries failed to post. I usually keep MS Notepad open and jot down things during the occasional slow moment at work or whenever I've got nothing else going on at home. Sometimes these things become posts which I'll then edit in LJ but screw it. Just cutting and pasting today.
A few weeks ago I got a call from a producer of a small budget feature that begins shooting the first week of June. With only a few weeks for pre-production and a four week shoot in Kyle, TX I told her that I couldn't accept the position. I explained to her that I'm very hands on and my work commitments wouldn't allow me the time to do my best work. Plus I doubt they could have made it worth my time financially but I kept that to myself.
Today she calls again asking if I can come in this weekend, more on a consulting basis, to advise them on one particular set that is crucial to the story. I will be compensated for my time and everything has to be done this weekend. She tells me what they've got so far and I'm not too impressed but it sounds salvageable. I suggest how we could modify the set to better suit their needs and discuss constructing some fake walls and a new color treatment. She sounds excited and promises to email me photos of the location that night. Later in the evening she calls to tell me that she left the cord to her digital camera in Colorado. She will buy a new one tomorrow and email me the photos in the morning. Fine.
WEDNESDAY
The following morning I get a phone message from an assistant production manager. Funny how bad news always seems to come from someone other than the person you were originally talking to. He thanks me for my time and informs me that they are "rethinking" things and that the DP is considering how to address the set situation. Basically that means the DP is going to hook up one of his buddies with the job. Fine by me. My heart wasn't really in it and although I could use it I don't really need the money so it doesn't come as a blow. I'm just glad they flaked out quickly rather than prolonging it.
THURSDAY
I went to my friend Sykes' surprise birthday party last night. Me and about 20 people sat in the darkened theater until they walked in. "Shhhhh" says Webster. "What's my motivation?" somebody whispers. "To shut the hell up" I think to myself. Actors. Giggles follow but everyone pipes down once we hear the front door being unlocked. Rebecca has convinced Sykes that she had left rehearsal earlier that day but had forgotten to bring his present but they'll just pop in and get it. As Sykes enters the house the lights go up and everyone yells surprise. Then we walk across the street to The Parlor for pizza and beer.
Bradley has to excuse himself as its a "school night" and now that he's a Leanderthal he has a long drive home ahead of him. Sparlin and Elliot are there and I'm really glad that I now feel comfortable around the former and really like the latter. He's travelling with The Rudes who will be touring Get Your War On around Europe as well as a detour in Seattle. Never got to see it but its the kind of show the Rude Mechs do well and I imagine Europeans critical of America (which probably means all of them) will eat it up. Somehow the conversation turns to baking and I tell them the story of when Maresca called me at home and asked me what I was doing. "Baking cookies" I said. There's a pause on the other end of the phone and then he says "You?" Like I've never baked cookies before. Now we're on the subject of quiche and Sparlin tells Elliot "That's right, I haven't made quiche for you yet." Where is Sparlin and what have you done with her? I have to admit they make a nice couple.
Rebecca and I reminisce about a stupid infomercial for some Japanese "micro-bead" pillow that we worked on. I was assisting Art Department and she was hired as the model. Obnoxious producers out of LA went on and on about "What are we going to do? She's not attractive enough. I thought I was clear we need someone prettier." This coming from a female producer who was middle-aged and dumpy. I kept my mouth shut and prayed that Rebecca wasn't in earshot. Turns out she was. She was nearly in tears but she finished the gig as the producers decided to shoot her from the neck down. She nearly lost it when the director started griping to the camera man that they had gotten her chin in the shot. Stupid. All that time and money spent on a stupid little pillow. Needless to say Rebecca was furious and called her agent who called the producers who sent her an enormous bouquet of flowers and paid her in full (although not a penny extra). Do flowers really work? I'd be pissed. Fuck your flowers. Make it up to me by adding that money to my paycheck. I had no idea until last night that she knew what they were saying about her. I never had the heart to tell her. At least we can laugh about it now but it still rankles.
I finally give Sykes a large envelope and tell him it's his present. "Is that what I think it is?" he says. "Yes, but don't thank me just yet. It may not be a very good gift." I apologize for being late with the first act. "Man, it's all good," says Sykes. "I'm not keeping track." I'm both relieved and disappointed. I'd been kicking myself for being late but he hadn't called me so I just kept working. On one hand, I need that fire under my ass. On the other hand I appreciate the fact that he's chosen not to pester me. When I heard about the party I thought the least I could do was show up with something in hand. He called me a couple of weeks ago about going to see the Wallace Shawn play (or "Naked Wallace Shawn play" as some call it which makes me even less enthused about seeing it) but I told him I was going to use that weekend to focus on meeting my deadline. And then he never called back. I had promised him 30 pages in 30 days and now I was giving it to him 10 days late but the first act is now 75 pages long so that kind of makes up for it. Obviously a lot of trimming needs to occur but I'll whittle it down after I tackle Acts 2 and 3.
The Parlor closes at midnight on the weekdays (apparantly the neighborhood association would require an additional bond of 10 grand in order to stay open later) so the night ends relatively early. As we begin to walk out the songs I put on the jukebox earlier finally decide to play. Typical. Oh well.
THURSDAY
I can usually take or leave Michael Ventura's "Letters at 3:00am" but this week's column caught my attention. There's nothing here that hasn't been said before or couldn't be figured out using common sense but I completely agree with him about what he refers to as "the talent of the room." The past month has been both edifying and demoralizing as I struggle to get into the habit of writing. I've always known that the reason I gravitated towards the theater as opposed to painting or writing was for the camaraderie, for the instant (and temporary) families the theater spawns. In order to be creative I've often needed to be around people who, if not necessarily like-minded, were at least all working together and inspiring one another towards a common goal. I need that give and take. Painting and writing on the other hand requires solitude and discipline, two things that I have not always handled well.
FRIDAY
Looking forward to the weekend. With the legislature working through the Memorial Day holiday there was a chance I would have to be part of the skeleton crew but my boss informs me that I can indeed have the day off. Hooray for the three day weekend. More time to write/read/doodle. Once House Crawford and House Maresca can agree on a time we will move Maresca's swing set and then catch a matinee of Pirates: The Quest for More $$$. Not too enthused frankly, but it's still nice to get out and see friends. Can't stay under the rock all the time. Looking forward to watching my new Pan's Labyrinth DVD. Maybe this time with the subtitles off and see just how awful my Spanish really is. Harder to follow the Spanish dialect as opposed to the Mexican dialect which I'm more familiar with. Otherwise, I plan to bunker down at home this weekend and get caught up. Maybe finish reading Cloud Atlas which I'm enjoying immensely but is now several days overdue thanks to my focus on writing these past few weeks. Enjoying Mitchell so much that I snatched up Black Swan Green when I came across it while browsing the stacks at Half-Price as well as, in an unusual impulse buy, some CDs,(Foetus/Louis XIV/Social Distortion/10,000 Maniacs/Curve/The The, etc.) mostly stuff I used to own on cassette "back in the day".
Agreed to meet Robin tonight to meet a director for a project that lenses in November. I really don't feel like driving out to Pflugerville on Friday night for an 8:00 meeting but who knows. Maybe something will come of it. The only reason I agree to deal with people any more is in case shooting my script one day becomes a viable option. Good to keep those contacts.
