6:30 am call time tomorrow, which means I might just get off early enough to have some fun, but not likely.
When I have a call time that early, I'm usually tired before 10 pm.
Couch of the Day:
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Big Boring Day Off
I had today off, and I spent it cleaning my house, despite wanting to go to the beach.
6:30 am call time tomorrow, which means I might just get off early enough to have some fun, but not likely.
When I have a call time that early, I'm usually tired before 10 pm.
Couch of the Day:
6:30 am call time tomorrow, which means I might just get off early enough to have some fun, but not likely.
When I have a call time that early, I'm usually tired before 10 pm.
Couch of the Day:
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
I spent the afternoon on a bus.
Not riding it around the city seeing cool things and meeting interesting people (and one does meet interesting people on city buses in Los Angeles), but changing the fluorescent tubes in the bus to a movie-friendly type of tube.
This is more complicated than it might seem - to prevent passenger breakage, the tubes are sealed in screwed-down plastic covers that get brittle over time, so they have to be removed very carefully since I can't imagine that's an easy item to replace. Once the tubes are changed, the covers have to be very carefully re-installed with one person holding the cover in place while another one screws it down, which is fun in a bus with limited floor space. Damn good thing we're all thin.
Of course, the type of tube in the bus was a type (single pin connecter) that we don't use, so it had to be ordered through a vendor, and the bus had three different sizes of tube - 4', 5', and 6'. No one could find a 5' tube, so we had to do some re-wiring to make a 4' work (yes, the bus company knew about it).
Also of course, the bus was parked in the sun on a hot day and most of the windows wouldn't open, but the upside is that I think I sweated off a couple of pounds.
At some point today (I think it was on stage while we were all breathing paint fumes), we decided that our boss' slick new chopper-like lot bike (it's one of those that look like a motorcycle and is very, very manly) needs a pink Hello Kitty (tm) handle bar basket to really spiff it up.
Now, as it happens I know where there's a very pink Hello Kitty (tm) handle bar basket (with aftermarket sparkle glue hearts). The trick is just going to be persuading it's current owner to part with it, but her mom tells me she's just about out of her "pink princess" phase, so if I replace it with one that suits her current tastes I'm golden.
So, while we were waiting for our tube order to arrive, we sat around trying to figure out how we could attach the basket to his bike so that it would be difficult to remove, but not damage the paint or chrome on the handlebars.
We think we've got something worked out, but my boss knows all the tricks so once he sees the basket, it'll have about a five minute life span - so it's all about parking the bike where the most people will see it as they come into the stage.
Couch of the Day:
This is more complicated than it might seem - to prevent passenger breakage, the tubes are sealed in screwed-down plastic covers that get brittle over time, so they have to be removed very carefully since I can't imagine that's an easy item to replace. Once the tubes are changed, the covers have to be very carefully re-installed with one person holding the cover in place while another one screws it down, which is fun in a bus with limited floor space. Damn good thing we're all thin.
Of course, the type of tube in the bus was a type (single pin connecter) that we don't use, so it had to be ordered through a vendor, and the bus had three different sizes of tube - 4', 5', and 6'. No one could find a 5' tube, so we had to do some re-wiring to make a 4' work (yes, the bus company knew about it).
Also of course, the bus was parked in the sun on a hot day and most of the windows wouldn't open, but the upside is that I think I sweated off a couple of pounds.
At some point today (I think it was on stage while we were all breathing paint fumes), we decided that our boss' slick new chopper-like lot bike (it's one of those that look like a motorcycle and is very, very manly) needs a pink Hello Kitty (tm) handle bar basket to really spiff it up.
Now, as it happens I know where there's a very pink Hello Kitty (tm) handle bar basket (with aftermarket sparkle glue hearts). The trick is just going to be persuading it's current owner to part with it, but her mom tells me she's just about out of her "pink princess" phase, so if I replace it with one that suits her current tastes I'm golden.
So, while we were waiting for our tube order to arrive, we sat around trying to figure out how we could attach the basket to his bike so that it would be difficult to remove, but not damage the paint or chrome on the handlebars.
We think we've got something worked out, but my boss knows all the tricks so once he sees the basket, it'll have about a five minute life span - so it's all about parking the bike where the most people will see it as they come into the stage.
Couch of the Day:
Friday, August 18, 2006
Friday Photo
Today, we were wrapping out the house that first unit have been shooting in for two days, and the very nice homeowner let me pick some of the figs from the tree in her backyard.
I love figs, and I'm not the only one:
These fellows do, too.
Anyone know what the green beetles are? I've never seen one before, and know nothing about them other than they were chowing down on the biggest, yummiest looking fig on the whole tree.
I love figs, and I'm not the only one:
These fellows do, too.
Anyone know what the green beetles are? I've never seen one before, and know nothing about them other than they were chowing down on the biggest, yummiest looking fig on the whole tree.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
It's all about the inventory
Returning a stage package isn't psychically difficult, inventory (which was today's big job) just requires more concentration than I like to muster up when I'm at work and the coffeepot's all the way on the other side of the lot.
Each stage has it's own equipment, which may seem excessive, but this is way easier than hauling the shit around from stage to stage. In addition, each lamp has stuff that goes with it (for tungsten lamps, that's scrims. Other types of lamps have more accessories), which also must be counted.
We're returning this stage's equipment because production think they're going to save money by getting equipment drop loaded (brought to the stage each time it's needed) each time we use the stage instead of having it sit there all the time. I don't know what kind of deal they're getting from the lamp dock (normally, you don't pay a five day week on an equipment order - they usually give you a three day week, but if you really have the rental house over a barrel, they'll give you a one and a half day week. This means you pay one and a half day's rental for a week) or how often they plan to use this stage - it may not be cheaper to have the stuff dropped off, due to labor costs to unload a truck and do an inventory before we can start work, and then do another inventory after we tear the rig out.
Each lamp is barcoded and assigned to an equipment package. If the barcode on the lamp doesn't match the paperwork, we have to climb into the rig to find it so the lot best boy can put it on the correct paperwork. This may seem overly anal, but trust me - it's better this way. Waiting until the end of the show will result in a big, evil nightmare.
We did have some entertainment today - right across from where we were working was "America's Got Talent". All the "talent" were strolling up and down the street in front of our stage, rehearsing or giving interviews. Right before we went on our morning break, there was a guy in an orange mechanic's suit with bicycle horns strapped all over his body playing the "Star Spangled Banner". We thought it was funny, but the AD's are going to throw a fit if that shit starts tomorrow while they're rolling sound.
Couch of the Day:
Each stage has it's own equipment, which may seem excessive, but this is way easier than hauling the shit around from stage to stage. In addition, each lamp has stuff that goes with it (for tungsten lamps, that's scrims. Other types of lamps have more accessories), which also must be counted.
We're returning this stage's equipment because production think they're going to save money by getting equipment drop loaded (brought to the stage each time it's needed) each time we use the stage instead of having it sit there all the time. I don't know what kind of deal they're getting from the lamp dock (normally, you don't pay a five day week on an equipment order - they usually give you a three day week, but if you really have the rental house over a barrel, they'll give you a one and a half day week. This means you pay one and a half day's rental for a week) or how often they plan to use this stage - it may not be cheaper to have the stuff dropped off, due to labor costs to unload a truck and do an inventory before we can start work, and then do another inventory after we tear the rig out.
Each lamp is barcoded and assigned to an equipment package. If the barcode on the lamp doesn't match the paperwork, we have to climb into the rig to find it so the lot best boy can put it on the correct paperwork. This may seem overly anal, but trust me - it's better this way. Waiting until the end of the show will result in a big, evil nightmare.
We did have some entertainment today - right across from where we were working was "America's Got Talent". All the "talent" were strolling up and down the street in front of our stage, rehearsing or giving interviews. Right before we went on our morning break, there was a guy in an orange mechanic's suit with bicycle horns strapped all over his body playing the "Star Spangled Banner". We thought it was funny, but the AD's are going to throw a fit if that shit starts tomorrow while they're rolling sound.
Couch of the Day:
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Guard Gate Hassle Wednesday!
Of course, not only did my old Paramount ID not work but my name hasn't been in the computer at all - each morning, I've pushed my bicycle up to the gate, given the guard my name and had him tell me I've not been issued a pass. My boss has been calling his crew list into the production office every night, they just don't seem to think that riggers are important enough to call our names into the security office.
Each day, I've sat there at the gate, called my boss on his cell phone and had him exchange angry words with said security office (our call times have been way earlier than the production office staff come in, so we've not been able to call them).
Needless to say, this has made me late every single day. No matter how much extra time I allow, it all seems to get eaten up at the guard shack, where an increasingly frustrated guard has tried to do everything he can to help me. I need to bake him some cookies or something.
Today, my boss finally snapped and got me paperwork for a new pass (he wasn't going to get me one, as he's only allowed to issue badges to so many crew members and the rigging crew's not going to be on this show full-time, but this whole debacle has really been annoying him), so when we went for our morning coffee break I stopped in at the operations office and got my new badge.
I don't know why, but everyone looks bad on their Paramount IDs. I usually take a decent photo, and even I look like a fucking convict.
I think it's the lighting.
At least I won't have the hassle at the gate tomorrow.
Today, the company was on location (a half mile or so from the studio), so we ended up cleaning up after first unit (they get busy lighting and don't make everything neat, which is fine - it's keeping me working) and getting the stages ready for when they come back on the lot.
Tomorrow, we're working on stage 12, which, it turns out, used to be called stage 13 - the old DC cans are still labeled 13 although the stage is now numbered 12. The other day, when one of the fluorescent fixtures we were powering up caught fire (flames and everything - exciting!), it was jokingly blamed on the stage's being unlucky.
I wanted to go into the perms to check for good graffiti, but there's no backboard on the ladder* and it freaked me out.
*Most stages with permanents have had stairways installed, but on the smaller stages where there's no room they left the old ladders, but installed backboards (it's like a big tube around the ladder) so if you fall backwards, you'll just lean into the backboard and not fall 40 feet down to the deck.
For some reason, quite a few of the older stages at Paramount have not had backboards installed - including Stage 7: the tall stage (four stories or so up to the perms, and no backboard on the ladder - yikes!)
Couch of the Day:
Each day, I've sat there at the gate, called my boss on his cell phone and had him exchange angry words with said security office (our call times have been way earlier than the production office staff come in, so we've not been able to call them).
Needless to say, this has made me late every single day. No matter how much extra time I allow, it all seems to get eaten up at the guard shack, where an increasingly frustrated guard has tried to do everything he can to help me. I need to bake him some cookies or something.
Today, my boss finally snapped and got me paperwork for a new pass (he wasn't going to get me one, as he's only allowed to issue badges to so many crew members and the rigging crew's not going to be on this show full-time, but this whole debacle has really been annoying him), so when we went for our morning coffee break I stopped in at the operations office and got my new badge.
I don't know why, but everyone looks bad on their Paramount IDs. I usually take a decent photo, and even I look like a fucking convict.
I think it's the lighting.
At least I won't have the hassle at the gate tomorrow.
Today, the company was on location (a half mile or so from the studio), so we ended up cleaning up after first unit (they get busy lighting and don't make everything neat, which is fine - it's keeping me working) and getting the stages ready for when they come back on the lot.
Tomorrow, we're working on stage 12, which, it turns out, used to be called stage 13 - the old DC cans are still labeled 13 although the stage is now numbered 12. The other day, when one of the fluorescent fixtures we were powering up caught fire (flames and everything - exciting!), it was jokingly blamed on the stage's being unlucky.
I wanted to go into the perms to check for good graffiti, but there's no backboard on the ladder* and it freaked me out.
*Most stages with permanents have had stairways installed, but on the smaller stages where there's no room they left the old ladders, but installed backboards (it's like a big tube around the ladder) so if you fall backwards, you'll just lean into the backboard and not fall 40 feet down to the deck.
For some reason, quite a few of the older stages at Paramount have not had backboards installed - including Stage 7: the tall stage (four stories or so up to the perms, and no backboard on the ladder - yikes!)
Couch of the Day:
Monday, August 14, 2006
Happy Monday!
Our crew spent today loading first unit's truck (they're on set, someone has to do it) - although this show's shot mostly on a stage, they do go out on occasion and when they do they have to have a truck.
Our boss managed to browbeat production into giving us a 40 foot trailer - he told us that they'd wanted to give us a 10 ton, but our lighting and cable package would not have fit into such a small truck (a 10 ton is about the size of a large moving van, and a 40 foot trailer is the back portion of those 18 wheelers you see on the highway. While such a big truck might seem excessive, we really do have to be able to keep the equipment readily accessible so we can work - this means the stuff can't be jammed in too tightly, because then we'd never find anything quickly, and no one -absolutely no one- wants to be scrabbling through the truck trying to find a piece of equipment that's been buried while the gaffer's screaming "Hurry up, you fucker!" into the walkie).
It took us all day to load the truck, as we were waiting on first unit to wrap their first scene (they were scheduled to finish it at lunch, which would have been 1 pm, but they actually finished at 4 pm), so we could go and pick up the HMIs off that set - they had to go into the truck. The time was well-spent, though, as we all got to watch my boss take a sledgehammer to the old grip racks* in the front of the trailer.
Heh, heh.. Destruction is cool, man.
* Our truck used to be a grip truck, and now it's been reborn as a lighting department item. Grip equipment and set lighting equipment are different (natch, as we do different jobs), but grip have a lot more small items that need grip department-specific storage areas than we do - so when we get a truck with lots of cute little cubbyholes that are perfect for those grip items, we see it as space that could be put to better use for stacks of cable. Enter my boss and his sledgehammer.
I'm sure it made some of the grips cry (they were really nice racks), but that's the way it goes, and I have to admit that it is a hell of a lot of fun to watch a grown man smash something to bits at 8 am.
Ain't life grand?
Couch of the Day:
Our boss managed to browbeat production into giving us a 40 foot trailer - he told us that they'd wanted to give us a 10 ton, but our lighting and cable package would not have fit into such a small truck (a 10 ton is about the size of a large moving van, and a 40 foot trailer is the back portion of those 18 wheelers you see on the highway. While such a big truck might seem excessive, we really do have to be able to keep the equipment readily accessible so we can work - this means the stuff can't be jammed in too tightly, because then we'd never find anything quickly, and no one -absolutely no one- wants to be scrabbling through the truck trying to find a piece of equipment that's been buried while the gaffer's screaming "Hurry up, you fucker!" into the walkie).
It took us all day to load the truck, as we were waiting on first unit to wrap their first scene (they were scheduled to finish it at lunch, which would have been 1 pm, but they actually finished at 4 pm), so we could go and pick up the HMIs off that set - they had to go into the truck. The time was well-spent, though, as we all got to watch my boss take a sledgehammer to the old grip racks* in the front of the trailer.
Heh, heh.. Destruction is cool, man.
* Our truck used to be a grip truck, and now it's been reborn as a lighting department item. Grip equipment and set lighting equipment are different (natch, as we do different jobs), but grip have a lot more small items that need grip department-specific storage areas than we do - so when we get a truck with lots of cute little cubbyholes that are perfect for those grip items, we see it as space that could be put to better use for stacks of cable. Enter my boss and his sledgehammer.
I'm sure it made some of the grips cry (they were really nice racks), but that's the way it goes, and I have to admit that it is a hell of a lot of fun to watch a grown man smash something to bits at 8 am.
Ain't life grand?
Couch of the Day:
Friday, August 11, 2006
Friday Photos
That's right - plural.
I got some really good ones this week.
First - the best perm graffiti EVER:
Ever wonder what your crew thinks of that brilliant dialogue you slaved over for weeks?
Yeah, this pretty much sums it up.
Aaaaannnd:
Paramount has all this super old camera gear stashed in the "basement" of one of the facades on New York Street (where we were working today). The layer of dust just makes the stuff look even cooler:
I got some really good ones this week.
First - the best perm graffiti EVER:
Ever wonder what your crew thinks of that brilliant dialogue you slaved over for weeks?
Yeah, this pretty much sums it up.
Aaaaannnd:
Paramount has all this super old camera gear stashed in the "basement" of one of the facades on New York Street (where we were working today). The layer of dust just makes the stuff look even cooler:
Well, I know what the next couple of weeks will be like.
So I got added on to the rigging crew for this show - which is kind of weird in TV as it's not a full time crew (most movies carry rigging crews full time. Sometimes the crew is smaller than other times, but they're always there - good riggers are hard to find, and when you release your riggers for a week they go get other jobs and sometimes you can't get them back), so I'm looking at a few days each week, guaranteed, which is a good thing - this is a group of guys that I really like and have a good time with.
They only do 10 hour days, which is both good and bad. Good because I can have a life, bad because I won't make the big overtime bank.
It's also good because I'll get my Paramount ID renewed, so I won't have the daily guard gate hassle. I could also buy cheap DVDs in the lot store, if they had anything good, which they don't (okay the South Park box sets for 12 bucks each are cool, but that's about it).
Couch of the Day:
They only do 10 hour days, which is both good and bad. Good because I can have a life, bad because I won't make the big overtime bank.
It's also good because I'll get my Paramount ID renewed, so I won't have the daily guard gate hassle. I could also buy cheap DVDs in the lot store, if they had anything good, which they don't (okay the South Park box sets for 12 bucks each are cool, but that's about it).
Couch of the Day:
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Bubble wrap
Bubble wrap
Originally uploaded by Peggy Archer.
For when the owner of the location we're shooting at absolutely, positively refuses to move the car.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Oooo.. I must be psychic
"Same old shit" indeed...'shit' being the key word here.
Today's rig was at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. Our crew got there about four hours before the shooting crew, so we could run cable to the day's first set in the hotel's nightclub, change lights that needed to be swapped out and get first unit's carts off their truck - first unit had about 8 pages to shoot today, so our taking the time to get them set up meant that they could just walk on the set and start the day's work.
The direct line from our trucks to the set was through the hotel's lobby, but management didn't want us walking through the lobby with equipment (I can certainly understand that), so we had to use the service corridors - narrow, hot, winding, filled with dirty linens piled in huge carts (in some spaces, we barely had room to squeeze our lighting carts through. One steers these carts by pushing and peering to the side to make sure one's still on course and tight quarters where there's no room to actually see where the cart's headed is the ultimate test of cart-pushing skills) and harried hotel employees who were remarkably nice to us, given that I'm sure we were ruining their day.
The hotel is really nice and clean, but once you get outside the walls, it's the old-style Hollywood; dirty, poor and run-down - and in this particular neighborhood, there's dog shit everywhere - residents of the apartment buildings just behind the hotel don't clean up after their dogs, so whenever we had to walk on the grass (and if we had to get something out of our truck's jockey boxes we had to walk on the grass) we were on constant "land mine" alert - this meant screaming "POOOOO!!!"(let's face it, yelling "shit" doesn't really get any kind of reaction on a movie set) whenever one saw a co-worker about to step in something, and the co-worker would freeze, one foot in the air, neck craning frantically, trying not to step in the shit or drop the equipment he or she was carrying (hey, no one wants to be the person who tracked dog shit all over the hotel's expensive floors or be the one having to clean shit off of lighting equipment so it can be used inside. Wait, you didn't think we'd be allowed to bring filth-covered equipment inside a hotel that's just had a multi-million dollar remodel, did you?).
We got lucky and no one stepped in anything, but the whole street was thick with flies because of the piles of shit everywhere - although the smell wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.
When first unit got settled in, we went to rig the day's second set, which was around the hotel's pool. Since the Roosevelt's remodeling team were inconsistent in their placement of handicapped ramps, I just about finished my knees off by carrying coils of banded* up stairs.
We left right after that, and I'm sure first unit will be there well past midnight. I tried not to gloat as I walked to my car.
I'm off to bed - I have a 6 am call tomorrow (and they've added me for Thursday as well, so I'm now getting five days this week).
*It's called "banded" because, as you can see from the photo in the link, it's several cables banded together. Some types of banded are heavier that other types, depending on how heavily the cable is insulated. One 50 foot piece of five wire (meaning there's five cables banded together) banded weighs anywhere from 65 to 75 lbs. Of course, we had the extra-heavy type.
Couch of the Day:
Today's rig was at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. Our crew got there about four hours before the shooting crew, so we could run cable to the day's first set in the hotel's nightclub, change lights that needed to be swapped out and get first unit's carts off their truck - first unit had about 8 pages to shoot today, so our taking the time to get them set up meant that they could just walk on the set and start the day's work.
The direct line from our trucks to the set was through the hotel's lobby, but management didn't want us walking through the lobby with equipment (I can certainly understand that), so we had to use the service corridors - narrow, hot, winding, filled with dirty linens piled in huge carts (in some spaces, we barely had room to squeeze our lighting carts through. One steers these carts by pushing and peering to the side to make sure one's still on course and tight quarters where there's no room to actually see where the cart's headed is the ultimate test of cart-pushing skills) and harried hotel employees who were remarkably nice to us, given that I'm sure we were ruining their day.
The hotel is really nice and clean, but once you get outside the walls, it's the old-style Hollywood; dirty, poor and run-down - and in this particular neighborhood, there's dog shit everywhere - residents of the apartment buildings just behind the hotel don't clean up after their dogs, so whenever we had to walk on the grass (and if we had to get something out of our truck's jockey boxes we had to walk on the grass) we were on constant "land mine" alert - this meant screaming "POOOOO!!!"(let's face it, yelling "shit" doesn't really get any kind of reaction on a movie set) whenever one saw a co-worker about to step in something, and the co-worker would freeze, one foot in the air, neck craning frantically, trying not to step in the shit or drop the equipment he or she was carrying (hey, no one wants to be the person who tracked dog shit all over the hotel's expensive floors or be the one having to clean shit off of lighting equipment so it can be used inside. Wait, you didn't think we'd be allowed to bring filth-covered equipment inside a hotel that's just had a multi-million dollar remodel, did you?).
We got lucky and no one stepped in anything, but the whole street was thick with flies because of the piles of shit everywhere - although the smell wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.
When first unit got settled in, we went to rig the day's second set, which was around the hotel's pool. Since the Roosevelt's remodeling team were inconsistent in their placement of handicapped ramps, I just about finished my knees off by carrying coils of banded* up stairs.
We left right after that, and I'm sure first unit will be there well past midnight. I tried not to gloat as I walked to my car.
I'm off to bed - I have a 6 am call tomorrow (and they've added me for Thursday as well, so I'm now getting five days this week).
*It's called "banded" because, as you can see from the photo in the link, it's several cables banded together. Some types of banded are heavier that other types, depending on how heavily the cable is insulated. One 50 foot piece of five wire (meaning there's five cables banded together) banded weighs anywhere from 65 to 75 lbs. Of course, we had the extra-heavy type.
Couch of the Day:
Monday, August 07, 2006
Finally, I'm back to the same old shit.
Sometimes the work season starts off slowly, and I start to panic. I fret over how much money I've spent, how I've left the fans on when I'm not home and run up the electric bill (a big deal in California, but I worry about the cat when it's hot), how I've gone out for sushi once too often, how I'm going to have to buy another car in the next year or so.
This is the standard paranoia of the self-employed, and I'll certainly take it as a trade-off for a job that I really, truly do love. Somehow, everything always works out in the end, and although I may yet end up shuffling down Hollywood Boulevard with all my possessions loaded into a shopping cart, I'm reasonably certain it won't happen this year.
As I was standing on set today (grateful for that last-minute call which got me a day's work since I'd been kind of panicked about my not working enough last week), waiting for the gaffer to release the rigging crew (we'd stayed on past our allowed 8 hours to help first unit move from one set to the other), the rigging best boy booked me for tomorrow's rig on this show (some forgettable mid-season replacement comedy).
Not five minutes after that, a friend who's pushing* a crew on a Paramount show called me and asked me if I could work Wednesday and Friday for him.
Four days this week, which covers my rent. Plus, Paramout is super-close to my house so I have a five minute commute time. Okay, ten since I bet my ID card's expired and that means a delay at the gate when I'm trying to get on the lot.
Back to the same old shit, and I'm very glad to be posting it.
* "Pushing" a crew means being the supervisor of that particular crew. Generally, when a show has more than one rig going in at the same time and the best boy can't supervise them all, he or she will appoint a "pusher" for each rig.
Couch of the Day:
This is the standard paranoia of the self-employed, and I'll certainly take it as a trade-off for a job that I really, truly do love. Somehow, everything always works out in the end, and although I may yet end up shuffling down Hollywood Boulevard with all my possessions loaded into a shopping cart, I'm reasonably certain it won't happen this year.
As I was standing on set today (grateful for that last-minute call which got me a day's work since I'd been kind of panicked about my not working enough last week), waiting for the gaffer to release the rigging crew (we'd stayed on past our allowed 8 hours to help first unit move from one set to the other), the rigging best boy booked me for tomorrow's rig on this show (some forgettable mid-season replacement comedy).
Not five minutes after that, a friend who's pushing* a crew on a Paramount show called me and asked me if I could work Wednesday and Friday for him.
Four days this week, which covers my rent. Plus, Paramout is super-close to my house so I have a five minute commute time. Okay, ten since I bet my ID card's expired and that means a delay at the gate when I'm trying to get on the lot.
Back to the same old shit, and I'm very glad to be posting it.
* "Pushing" a crew means being the supervisor of that particular crew. Generally, when a show has more than one rig going in at the same time and the best boy can't supervise them all, he or she will appoint a "pusher" for each rig.
Couch of the Day:
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Semi all-purpose chain letter
So I'm lazy and don't want to write a new response for each angry email I get (you are of course always welcome to write and tell me how great I am - those emails, I love), so I came up with this handy dandy form letter which covers the most common categories of irate messages.
So, if the email you wanted to send falls into one of these categories, don't bother. Just print this out, circle the appropriate responses, and that'll be that. Really, I do this because I care.
Really I do. I swear.
Dear (INSERT YOUR NAME HERE),
I'm really very sorry that you:
I think the best way to deal with this is for you and I to ignore this and get on with our respective lives because:
The only thing I can possibly think to suggest is to:
But really, I don't think that's going to solve anything.
Do you?
Peggy
Couch of the Day:
So, if the email you wanted to send falls into one of these categories, don't bother. Just print this out, circle the appropriate responses, and that'll be that. Really, I do this because I care.
Really I do. I swear.
Dear (INSERT YOUR NAME HERE),
I'm really very sorry that you:
a) think my blog sucks now and I've just been phoning it in lately.
b) hate all unions and feel compelled to tell me why.
c) are this month's victim of the "who's Mr. Movie Star" rumor mill.
I think the best way to deal with this is for you and I to ignore this and get on with our respective lives because:
a) I blame it on bad Feng Shui, and I'm too broke to buy all new furniture and a bunch of those eensy mirrors.
b) Really, you just don't understand what it's like to have your will to live nearly extinguished by a producer - one or two low-budget movies and you'll be screaming for that union card, buddy. Trust me on this one.
c) I think the only way to stop people from gossiping is to kill them - which I'm pretty sure is illegal, but feel free to test that out and get back to me.
The only thing I can possibly think to suggest is to:
a) Have you pay for a decorator - please send me your credit card number ASAP, so I can fix this problem and get back to being interesting.
b) Give your phone number to all those micro-budget producers and tell them you'd just love to work for them - be sure to keep me informed 'cause I want to be there the minute your soul rips in half, even if it happens at 4 am when you're knee-deep in shit on a feedlot in Acton. Especially if it happens at 4 am when you're knee-deep in shit on a feedlot in Acton.
c) You could call the stalker photographers and do something overtly sexual with a member of the same gender while they take your picture. Of course, then you'd have a whole new set of problems, but at least the hint of crew-cooties wouldn't be one of them.
But really, I don't think that's going to solve anything.
Do you?
a)Sincerely,
b) Up yours,
c) Do you have any cute friends? I'm single,
Peggy
Couch of the Day:
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
It was fun - sort of - while it lasted.
The past week has been very similar to a hurricane - mainly due to The Blonde having gone completely off the deep end and, as a result, my not having gotten more than four hours of sleep on any given night.
There's a thing that happens at networks and film studios: if an exec leaves under less than totally friendly circumstances, then all the projects associated with that person get buried - they get put in a weird limbo, where they're not going to get made, but can't be shopped anywhere else due to contractual bullshit ("Sure, you can shop the project elsewhere - if you pay us back ALL the money we've spent." "But if I get it made somewhere else, I can pay you back - wouldn't you rather take that chance?" "No, not so much.").
Three guesses what's happened to our show.
I'd seen the writing on the wall; normally every line of dialogue, every idea, every shot, every rough cut is second guessed by some level of network or studio jackassery - Standards and Practices (to make sure you don't do anything that will get the network fined), executives, executive's kids, the cleaning guy, various hangers-on, etc...
When all that stopped and we got no notes from anyone at all (even before we knew our exec was leaving) I knew we were doomed. Legally the only thing we can do is to wait until we can shop the show elsewhere - another year, I think.
I've turned my phone off tonight (and I'm holed up at a friend's house. The Blonde knows where I live and I'll bet that she'll be pounding on my front door at some ungodly hour), and I'm going to run the risk of missing a work call because I have got to get some sleep. I'm already hearing people who aren't actually there talking to me. I think - they might really be there and I'm just not moving fast enough.
Honestly? This whole process has put me under so much stress that I'm almost glad it's over.
I have to check with the lawyer to see how much of what happened I can write about. That may have to wait a year, too.
Couch of the Day:
There's a thing that happens at networks and film studios: if an exec leaves under less than totally friendly circumstances, then all the projects associated with that person get buried - they get put in a weird limbo, where they're not going to get made, but can't be shopped anywhere else due to contractual bullshit ("Sure, you can shop the project elsewhere - if you pay us back ALL the money we've spent." "But if I get it made somewhere else, I can pay you back - wouldn't you rather take that chance?" "No, not so much.").
Three guesses what's happened to our show.
I'd seen the writing on the wall; normally every line of dialogue, every idea, every shot, every rough cut is second guessed by some level of network or studio jackassery - Standards and Practices (to make sure you don't do anything that will get the network fined), executives, executive's kids, the cleaning guy, various hangers-on, etc...
When all that stopped and we got no notes from anyone at all (even before we knew our exec was leaving) I knew we were doomed. Legally the only thing we can do is to wait until we can shop the show elsewhere - another year, I think.
I've turned my phone off tonight (and I'm holed up at a friend's house. The Blonde knows where I live and I'll bet that she'll be pounding on my front door at some ungodly hour), and I'm going to run the risk of missing a work call because I have got to get some sleep. I'm already hearing people who aren't actually there talking to me. I think - they might really be there and I'm just not moving fast enough.
Honestly? This whole process has put me under so much stress that I'm almost glad it's over.
I have to check with the lawyer to see how much of what happened I can write about. That may have to wait a year, too.
Couch of the Day:
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Confidentiality Agreement for a Stupid, Stupid Product.
This isn't the entire document (a bit more legalese than I'm in the mood to type), but one particularly choice excerpt:
Well, that's just... Wait a minute ... What?
So if I make a suggestion to improve the Stupid, Stupid Product ("you know.. you should make these with an extra long headset cord so that people can cram the entire unit up their asses. That way, they wouldn't risk mislaying them!"), and then I see my suggestion ("new and improved with ass-crammability!") in next year's product revisions, I'm just out of luck? I don't even get bragging rights?
That's just wrong, man.
All kidding aside, most of us know damn good and well that any suggestions we make will not be credited or compensated (or paid attention to, especially when it's a suggestion that could save production time and money). That's why most of us don't make them - that, and it just slows things down (ad agency flak: "Ooooo... that's a great idea! Can we cram one of these up someone's ass? Call casting right now!" First AD: "Godammit, will you please shut the fuck up so I can see my kids sometime this week?").
While I can't reveal what the Stupid, Stupid Product is - I can tell you this:
Ten thousand years from now, when archaeologists are pawing through the flotsam of our civilization, they're going to wonder what the hell was wrong with us that we had to make so many of these worthless (and non-biodegradable) things.
Couch of the Day:
Although I disabled it when I started moderating comments, I'm going to have to turn that awful 'word-verification' thing back on. For the past week, I've been getting about 15 comment spam attempts a day, and it's wearing on my nerves.
Feedback: Notwithstanding any other provision in this agreement, if Recipient provides any ideas, suggestions or recommendations to Company regarding confidential information, Company is free to use and incorporate such feedback in Company's products without payment of royalties or other consideration to Recipient, so long as Company does not infringe Recipient's patents, copyrights or trademark rights in the feedback.
Well, that's just... Wait a minute ... What?
So if I make a suggestion to improve the Stupid, Stupid Product ("you know.. you should make these with an extra long headset cord so that people can cram the entire unit up their asses. That way, they wouldn't risk mislaying them!"), and then I see my suggestion ("new and improved with ass-crammability!") in next year's product revisions, I'm just out of luck? I don't even get bragging rights?
That's just wrong, man.
All kidding aside, most of us know damn good and well that any suggestions we make will not be credited or compensated (or paid attention to, especially when it's a suggestion that could save production time and money). That's why most of us don't make them - that, and it just slows things down (ad agency flak: "Ooooo... that's a great idea! Can we cram one of these up someone's ass? Call casting right now!" First AD: "Godammit, will you please shut the fuck up so I can see my kids sometime this week?").
While I can't reveal what the Stupid, Stupid Product is - I can tell you this:
Ten thousand years from now, when archaeologists are pawing through the flotsam of our civilization, they're going to wonder what the hell was wrong with us that we had to make so many of these worthless (and non-biodegradable) things.
Couch of the Day:
Although I disabled it when I started moderating comments, I'm going to have to turn that awful 'word-verification' thing back on. For the past week, I've been getting about 15 comment spam attempts a day, and it's wearing on my nerves.
Monday, July 24, 2006
I see a lot of coffee in my immediate future.
One of the things that's so difficult about night shoots is trying to sleep during the day. I got home from work at 7 am, slept for three hours and am now wide awake with no hope of getting any more shuteye.
Ugh. I have to be back at work at 8pm.
I'm hoping that if I lay down and pretend to be asleep, I'll actually fall asleep, but I think the sticky sweat-soaked sheets might keep me awake.
At least we're on the West side tonight. Last night in the San Fernando Valley felt like a furnace*.
*For my non-LA based readers, the West side of the city is normally cooler than everywhere else, since it's close to the ocean, and the Valley is at least 10 degrees hotter than downtown.
Couch of the Day:
Ugh. I have to be back at work at 8pm.
I'm hoping that if I lay down and pretend to be asleep, I'll actually fall asleep, but I think the sticky sweat-soaked sheets might keep me awake.
At least we're on the West side tonight. Last night in the San Fernando Valley felt like a furnace*.
*For my non-LA based readers, the West side of the city is normally cooler than everywhere else, since it's close to the ocean, and the Valley is at least 10 degrees hotter than downtown.
Couch of the Day:
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