Saturday, July 19, 2008
Not A Shadow in the City
I've been working a lot recently. The show we're working on now seems to be just a series of crises. Everybody wants something different and they want it now. Fortunately, the vibe of the folks at this production company is upbeat and relaxed. No one wants to cut your balls off and run you out of town if you screw up. We've had to redo a lot of outputs because something changed or was overlooked and not changed. But it never feels like the end of the world.
As I was setting up a DVD layoff for an episode of another show we're working on, I apologized to the editor whose show it was for having to run it through again. He said, "No worries. If I had a nickle for every time I screwed up an output, I'd be retired."
This week, I've had some lax days that always end with a huge shitstorm of requests just as I'm finishing up. I usually end up working an extra three, maybe four hours. My day is like having a dog. You take the dog out repeatedly throughout the day for him to do his business, but he just lopes around, maybe squirts a little piss here and there, but never gets to the "punchline". The thing that worries you is that you've seen him scarf down huge amounts of food in between his little walks. But you keep taking him out, with a big WalMart plastic bag wrapped around your hand to pick up the pile when he finally lets loose on the sidewalk. No go, however. Finally, as you are ready to call it a night and go to bed he takes a massive dump in your living room, and it's huge. The work of six dogs. Or maybe a bear. And now you have to use a whole bunch of Walmart plastic bags and paper towels and bottles of Frebreze and it takes you forever.
But, as I said, the people I work with are fun.
The other day one of the girls said, "This is why I don't wear shorts to work. Everyone keeps commenting on my tattoos." To which the post supervisor quipped, "Yeah. I noticed those. Were you in some sort of lesbian concentration camp in the 1990s?" The joke failed, but in hindsight I find it funny.
Thursday, I went to see a midnight screening of The Dark Knight. I started talking with one of the story editors and she asked me if I knew anyone who wanted to see the movie. She had bought a ticket for one theater and her cousin, whom she was going with, had gotten one at a different theater. So she bought a second ticket for that theater and now had an extra one to get rid of. I forked over my ten dollars and she gave me the ticket. Luckily she didn't know that tickets for the movie were going for $50-$100 on craigsist!
The movie was great. But the pre-show was just as good.
I got there an hour early because I had nothing better to do after work (which is only a few blocks from the theater). I found a seat next to a gaggle of college girls. There was an empty seat next to me, then two guys, and an empty seat next to them. The theater was getting packed. I sat there reading a book. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a guy sprint into the theater, lose his footing on the buttered floor and do a faceplant. The slap as he hit the floor echoed in the theater and everyone erupted into applause. He got up and lightly jogged back to his seat. He was laughing with embarassment and the rest of the theater was just laughing. There were calls for an encore.
Then about two minutes before midnight, a girl and her boyfriend walk in to our row and ask if the seat next to me is taken. I say no and slide over, next to the two guys. Then she asks the guy on the far end of me if we can all scoot over one more spot. The guy looks at the empty seat next to him, then back at the girl and says, politely, "No."
"What?!" the girl squawks.
"I said no. But one of you is welcome to this seat."
She is incredulous and decides she needs to broadcast this event to the rest of the theater.
"There's two of me!! And you won't move over one seat??!"
"Nope."
People start booing, but I'm not sure if they are booing the guy or booing her. Probably both. People are having fun though with this evening's entertainment so far.
"Why won't you move in?"
"Because I got here early and found the seat I wanted. If you weren't walking in two minutes before showtime and telling me to move, we might be able to work it out."
I liked this guy!
"Why are you being such a dick?" she turned to the gaggle of girls I'd been sitting next to. "Am I the only one who thinks that's insane? I mean, there are two of me. What the hell."
There was a sense of entitlement the girl was exuding at that moment that filled me with the urge to slap her. You could tell by her demeanor that she was daddy's little girl and had probably whined her way into getting most of what she wanted in life. She was going to make some lucky man very miserable one day. I just wanted to go back to my book and not be in the middle of this.
"Why won't you move?" she barked at the guy.
"Well now you've insulted me so I'm definitely not moving now."
"What?!"
"You just called me a dick. That's no way to win favor with someone you want something from."
Meanwhile the boyfriend stood behind her and let her handle the negotiations.
"It's one seat! You just need to move over one seat! What the hell? I don't understand why you're doing this!" She was yelling. And the crowd around us was goading them on.
I, however, was getting frustrated. And I felt the rage building. Before I knew it, I had joined the fray and my voice drowned them both out as I screamed, "Are you a fucking child!! Do you need someone to hold your hand?! Sit the fuck down! There's a seat here and a seat there. You're a goddamn adult, now quit crying!!"
This stunned her and her boyfriend had his cellphone pointed in my direction. He then spoke into it: "Hear that? Yeah, I got you on speakerphone. Yeah, we're in the theater. That's the shit that's goin' on. I know, right?"
The other guy said, "If you apologize, I'll move over."
She did and he and his friend started moving. The friend leaned over to me, laughing, and whispered, "Now you should refuse to move over."
I thought about it. That would've been funny. But I'd already had my little outburst and I wanted to just watch the movie. So I moved over, the movie started and all was good.
On the train home, there was a skinny, old black man in a hospital gown and socks wandering back and forth on the car. Everyone ignored him. I did at first too. I started reading my book and just shook my head. After a few stops I thought to myself, "Maybe that guy needs help. I can ask. And notify the train crew. Did he just walk out of the hospital? He's got no clothes. I should do something." But by the time I had finished this interior monologue, he'd gotten off the train.
Today I went with Misha to the IKEA that opened in Red Hook. There's a free shuttle that picks you up at 9th and 4th and takes you there. I'd never been to IKEA before so it was a new experience. Being in places like that fills you with the urge to totally redo your home. Looking at different bedroom sets and kitchen sets and random furniture I envisioned several possible looks I'd like for my apartment. Until I realized the apartment I was envisioning was not actually my apartment and I should probably wait until I have the space for these things before I get them. I did buy a bunch of kitchen things, though, and picture frames for some of my old artwork.
As I was setting up a DVD layoff for an episode of another show we're working on, I apologized to the editor whose show it was for having to run it through again. He said, "No worries. If I had a nickle for every time I screwed up an output, I'd be retired."
This week, I've had some lax days that always end with a huge shitstorm of requests just as I'm finishing up. I usually end up working an extra three, maybe four hours. My day is like having a dog. You take the dog out repeatedly throughout the day for him to do his business, but he just lopes around, maybe squirts a little piss here and there, but never gets to the "punchline". The thing that worries you is that you've seen him scarf down huge amounts of food in between his little walks. But you keep taking him out, with a big WalMart plastic bag wrapped around your hand to pick up the pile when he finally lets loose on the sidewalk. No go, however. Finally, as you are ready to call it a night and go to bed he takes a massive dump in your living room, and it's huge. The work of six dogs. Or maybe a bear. And now you have to use a whole bunch of Walmart plastic bags and paper towels and bottles of Frebreze and it takes you forever.
But, as I said, the people I work with are fun.
The other day one of the girls said, "This is why I don't wear shorts to work. Everyone keeps commenting on my tattoos." To which the post supervisor quipped, "Yeah. I noticed those. Were you in some sort of lesbian concentration camp in the 1990s?" The joke failed, but in hindsight I find it funny.
Thursday, I went to see a midnight screening of The Dark Knight. I started talking with one of the story editors and she asked me if I knew anyone who wanted to see the movie. She had bought a ticket for one theater and her cousin, whom she was going with, had gotten one at a different theater. So she bought a second ticket for that theater and now had an extra one to get rid of. I forked over my ten dollars and she gave me the ticket. Luckily she didn't know that tickets for the movie were going for $50-$100 on craigsist!
The movie was great. But the pre-show was just as good.
I got there an hour early because I had nothing better to do after work (which is only a few blocks from the theater). I found a seat next to a gaggle of college girls. There was an empty seat next to me, then two guys, and an empty seat next to them. The theater was getting packed. I sat there reading a book. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a guy sprint into the theater, lose his footing on the buttered floor and do a faceplant. The slap as he hit the floor echoed in the theater and everyone erupted into applause. He got up and lightly jogged back to his seat. He was laughing with embarassment and the rest of the theater was just laughing. There were calls for an encore.
Then about two minutes before midnight, a girl and her boyfriend walk in to our row and ask if the seat next to me is taken. I say no and slide over, next to the two guys. Then she asks the guy on the far end of me if we can all scoot over one more spot. The guy looks at the empty seat next to him, then back at the girl and says, politely, "No."
"What?!" the girl squawks.
"I said no. But one of you is welcome to this seat."
She is incredulous and decides she needs to broadcast this event to the rest of the theater.
"There's two of me!! And you won't move over one seat??!"
"Nope."
People start booing, but I'm not sure if they are booing the guy or booing her. Probably both. People are having fun though with this evening's entertainment so far.
"Why won't you move in?"
"Because I got here early and found the seat I wanted. If you weren't walking in two minutes before showtime and telling me to move, we might be able to work it out."
I liked this guy!
"Why are you being such a dick?" she turned to the gaggle of girls I'd been sitting next to. "Am I the only one who thinks that's insane? I mean, there are two of me. What the hell."
There was a sense of entitlement the girl was exuding at that moment that filled me with the urge to slap her. You could tell by her demeanor that she was daddy's little girl and had probably whined her way into getting most of what she wanted in life. She was going to make some lucky man very miserable one day. I just wanted to go back to my book and not be in the middle of this.
"Why won't you move?" she barked at the guy.
"Well now you've insulted me so I'm definitely not moving now."
"What?!"
"You just called me a dick. That's no way to win favor with someone you want something from."
Meanwhile the boyfriend stood behind her and let her handle the negotiations.
"It's one seat! You just need to move over one seat! What the hell? I don't understand why you're doing this!" She was yelling. And the crowd around us was goading them on.
I, however, was getting frustrated. And I felt the rage building. Before I knew it, I had joined the fray and my voice drowned them both out as I screamed, "Are you a fucking child!! Do you need someone to hold your hand?! Sit the fuck down! There's a seat here and a seat there. You're a goddamn adult, now quit crying!!"
This stunned her and her boyfriend had his cellphone pointed in my direction. He then spoke into it: "Hear that? Yeah, I got you on speakerphone. Yeah, we're in the theater. That's the shit that's goin' on. I know, right?"
The other guy said, "If you apologize, I'll move over."
She did and he and his friend started moving. The friend leaned over to me, laughing, and whispered, "Now you should refuse to move over."
I thought about it. That would've been funny. But I'd already had my little outburst and I wanted to just watch the movie. So I moved over, the movie started and all was good.
On the train home, there was a skinny, old black man in a hospital gown and socks wandering back and forth on the car. Everyone ignored him. I did at first too. I started reading my book and just shook my head. After a few stops I thought to myself, "Maybe that guy needs help. I can ask. And notify the train crew. Did he just walk out of the hospital? He's got no clothes. I should do something." But by the time I had finished this interior monologue, he'd gotten off the train.
Today I went with Misha to the IKEA that opened in Red Hook. There's a free shuttle that picks you up at 9th and 4th and takes you there. I'd never been to IKEA before so it was a new experience. Being in places like that fills you with the urge to totally redo your home. Looking at different bedroom sets and kitchen sets and random furniture I envisioned several possible looks I'd like for my apartment. Until I realized the apartment I was envisioning was not actually my apartment and I should probably wait until I have the space for these things before I get them. I did buy a bunch of kitchen things, though, and picture frames for some of my old artwork.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Witch Prison 101
So we had our opening night of "Witch Prison" last night and it went well. Good laughs in the right spots. My brother saw the show and said it flowed well with no slow sections. He said it was Simon's best work so far. Another guy I talked to after the show said he's seen Simon's literary progression and feels this is a culmination of everything. I definitely think this is the most completely realized production the Lion Pinball Players have mounted so far.
We are actually listed in the New York Times theater section this time around, so perhaps more people will discover the play and check it out.
I've taken the week off from work, so I can just relax and focus on the play. Which is nice.
Check out the play's website and reserve a ticket if you're not busy this weekend with your Fourth of July plans.
We are actually listed in the New York Times theater section this time around, so perhaps more people will discover the play and check it out.
I've taken the week off from work, so I can just relax and focus on the play. Which is nice.
Check out the play's website and reserve a ticket if you're not busy this weekend with your Fourth of July plans.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Reminders
I found an old Word document journal entry from five years ago, when I was still living in New Orleans. It was one of three entries I made. I had just gotten my first computer and was trying to move my journal keeping to a digital format. Unsuccessfully. I still do most of my journal writing in longhand in notebooks. This blog sometimes takes its place.
There were two thoughts I had written down that I really liked, and think they're good inspirational messages to myself. They basically re-iterate the need to be productive and stop slacking off. And to think bigger instead of covering the same small bit of ground over and over again. To grow as an "artist", I guess. Either way, I kinda like them:
Do you want to go on safari or keep on shooting squirrels in the back yard?
I hear opportunity sneaking around outside, looking for the right door to knock on. Will I be ready when he finally figures out my address?
There were two thoughts I had written down that I really liked, and think they're good inspirational messages to myself. They basically re-iterate the need to be productive and stop slacking off. And to think bigger instead of covering the same small bit of ground over and over again. To grow as an "artist", I guess. Either way, I kinda like them:
Do you want to go on safari or keep on shooting squirrels in the back yard?
I hear opportunity sneaking around outside, looking for the right door to knock on. Will I be ready when he finally figures out my address?
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