Happy Hallowe'en

Damn, I wish I was a kid in the midwest during this time. People got crazy over it in Ohio. As the leaves fall, and in the distance you smell burning leaves (mostly from me burning them), you see homemade graveyards, cobwebs on bushes and goofy skeletons. It's really everyone attempting to do everyone else in curbside freak out. Kids get nuts over it. Kids who aren't teens. My 16 year old nephew is a jerk about it. He doesn't give a hoot. I guess that's the nerd in us, and the jock in him.

I love Hallowe'en. Except in Hollywood. It scares me out here, because everyday is a freak show. So, it's really just a normal day. I know...hack joke. But it's true. I work at transvestite prostitute (say that three times fast) corner, so it doesn't freak me out. But it's really a moment for bad behavior. Which I wish I had the energy and motivation to participate in. Instead, to me, it's mostly about seeing all the creative costumes out there.

I visited a friend's Mom back in Ohio. She use to cook Thanksgiving dinner for me and her family. She didn't fuck around with it either. Big meal, coma afterwards. Anyway, she leads a ghost hunter thing. They visit haunted Cincinnati. That town is seriously crazy haunted. And I don't even believe in ghosts. There was this building called the City Barn. Apparently, this was a place that stored equipment for city maintenance. That meant horse stables (as they were needed to pull heavy gear up hills):

photo by Robby Virus "

"Front view of the City Barn building in the Avondale neighborhood of Cincinnati, located at 3516 Vine across from Glenmary Avenue. Built in 1896 to house the horses that pulled the horse-drawn trolleys. Now it stands abandoned."

 

Now I'm not saying all old buildings are haunted, but a musty smelling building that's been abandoned does conjure up odd feelings. As does the cemetery that happens to be down the street and is from the Civil War era. I think that's why I love the Civil War so much, the lands battles were fought on still exist. It's beautiful and scary. I wonder if any tramp out here ever dressed as a sexy Confederate. Not much is sacred anymore.

The Return

As I sit by the terminal on my out of Cincinnati, I look back at the fun times I had in this town. The swervy trip I took with my high school bud Kurt through Cincinnati historical sites. All the way down through downtown and thereabouts. Saw the rebirth of the area. Really really beautiful.

I made a road trip up to Columbus in a rain storm. It brought back memories of going up to see high school friends who went to college early. Also got to drive past the Horseshoe. The site of the undisputed National Champions THE Ohio State Buckeyes. But more importantly, got to burn some time with my friend Shayne, who was a big part in making bad moments in high school so much more tolerable. I kicked around a bonfire with my parents and oldest sister. To which, we barbecued chicken wings, and breaded Tyson chicken strips (this is a nutty sister). Then drove to Northern Kentucky to see my Dad's old business partner's daughter whom I've known since 3 years of age. Then a jaunt to the historical town of Lebanon, where Ashley filled me in on her family, whose Mother would share Marlboro Mediums with me. We both downshifted to Lights. Then just quit. I smoked cigars while doing yardwork at my sister's home. But more importantly, I spent a great deal of time with my niece Kayla. She is the sprite of a girl that doesn't understand the harsh realities of life yet. Nor do I want to vomit any of it. She is a princess in a castle and at 5 years of age does not conclude their situation. If I could, I would throw all my money towards her growing up to be this princess. Something I'd not been able to do with my own history. But it doesn't help. I saw this in my 16 year old nephew. A boy who had two sets of kin fighting for his attention. And then disappearing into adolescence. I don't blame him. Teens now are much more sophisticated and NONE of it has anything to do with me. I do my best to integrate my wisdom, but that's for him to figure out now. I argue with my sister that he will find his way. It took me a while and a ton of back and forth with Mom, but we eventually learned to respect each other, as we dodge landmines together.

In a sense, life is adding people to a boat dodging mines. The more people you add the more work you have to do to shift the tides to dodge these disasters. Coordinating it all, you start to gain the experience to figure it out. Until, it's just...over.

Adios to Cincinnati for now. And Happy Hallowe'en to the rest of ya.

My Old School

Sorry, not the Steely Dan classic.
I drove by my old high school last night. It's very different now. Re-vamped into a monster building with state of the art shit. I recognize so very little of it now. It use to be pretty bare. Though we only graduated with a few over 100 senior kids, lessee that's roughly 400 in the entire school back in 1993. Now we're talking that many in one class. So they had to expand. More kids means more money...I guess. Indian Hill High is still crazy wealthy snobs. Designer clothes, with luxury cars. You look through the halls there are the typical preppies that you could pick out like they were from the 1980's. Though class warfare wasn't like it was when I grew up, it still seems to make a difference to the have-nots. I wager.

The one thing overall is that we'r so removed from it now. Closing in on 23 years away, it seems like longer. It's hard to remember everything we went through in two decades, but a single year also changes the dynamic of the person you are. I caught up with so many people now, and for the most part, we've all settled into our lot in life. A lot have families now and are immersed in those things. Some continue to be on the fray of putting those years behind them. I understand. The sensibilities of high school must come to an end at some point. I look around my own home that I grew up in, and what started as a place where I re-live history is now a place I fight to remember who I was then. Those memories don't come to me. Neither do the emotions that go with it. It use to. But it doesn't anymore. I think the further you are from it, the longer it may take to excise it from your life. Then you can move on. I think the first step was to let go of the boozing. This seems to stunt one emotionally. Why wouldn't it? Just surprise many more didn't lean on it to dull the memories. Good memories? Maybe...but for the most part, I think we're still trying to make heads or tails of it. Even if it means through our kids.

I know everyone has moved on with their life, and the ones I've met don't look back too far. It's probably best not to. What is best is to enjoy the time you do have with who you can, when you can.

A Child's Perspective

My niece Kayla is 5 years old and surprises me with the most interesting observations sealed in complete sentences. Children pick up your speech patterns and regurgitate. It's very adult for her to speak this properly, but, in truth, more than likely she is mimicking you.

I realize a lot of people love their young family member, as I do. The vacant, sometimes curious but open faced big eyed smile when pressured for homework, really does a number on your toughness. The learning curve is impressive, as their little heads and brains absorb the world they live in.

The day before, I'd been hanging out with Kayla while watching over her to do homework. I spotted a odd drawing on the floor. It was a bunch of brown lines criss-crossing each other. To which I asked what it was. She told me it was a snowflake. Instead of placating this nonsense, I briskly told her that snowflakes are not brown. They are, at the very least, blue. She looked at the drawing for a little bit. Then as acknowledgement of my opinion, proceeded to grab a blue crayon and fill in blue lines in between the brown ones. She seemed content to fix the issue right then and there. I thought nothing of it again.

I went to visit my sister again today. To which Kayla had just come home from school. She was bouncing around the living room. My sister gave me her weekly homework to do with her. Kayla disappeared into her room and darted back to me with a drawing. It was a brand spanking new crayon drawing of strictly blue lines criss-crossing each other. To which I understood to be a snowflake.

It is bizarre what an effect you really have on children, whether you realize it or not.

It's How We Live

I love calling up my high school friend Ashley when I'm back in Ohio, because she doesn't mince words about the way things are. She lives in a beautiful little town of Lebanon, OH which is what Americana truly looks like. The town comes out for pooch parade and it is quaint. Anyone who doesn't believe this image doesn't exist anymore, visit this town for that traditional American Rockwell images. It's grown a lot, but still maintains a classic style.

It's really grounding to crack wise with someone from "the old days." After 23 years, we've both seem to be resigned to the oddities of life. And seems much more expanded with what a few years behind us has done. She has two precocious children, occupied with being chidren. The younger boy peered from behind the sofa, with 9 year old wonder proclaimed "you and my Mom have the same friendship my friend and I have." From the mouth of babes, this struck me. The observation of our friendship from a child seemed to resonate so much deeper. That friendship was important. And that we laugh and scream at each other with the absurdity of what's going on. No filter necessary. Ash has always been the person who understood best. She doesn't fuck around with tact. What is...is. In a society where we're so saddled with how things look, she doesn't give two shits that her own dogs wear cheap Halloween costumes. It is what it is. And it's silly to fuck around too much with it. So there ya' go. Haha.

I value so much this friendship, because we move around in life, and especially if you live in Los Angeles, people come and go so fast, you never get a chance to learn anything about them. It's not fault of their own. It's just the way the town functions. There's no history to pick up from. Visiting old friends in the 'Nati seems to be that we came from the same womb.

Friday Night Lights With #25

My nephew is 16 and plays for the JV football team. Though they make him suit up for the varsity game. He stood on the sidelines for most of the game, which didn't mean all that much, since the other team ran up the score against them. I think they had sort of a sophomore slump since the week before they'd blown out a school by the score of 45-0. So, it came around early. I'm sure confidence played a part. In the bible, apparently it comes before the fall.

I didn't expect much when I saw Ben (nephew). He's 16 years old, and more than likely is sullen and removed from everyone adult. Both my older sister and I like to be cool, but he just won't have it. I started with a terrible version of teenager:
"Hey dude, what's up?"
Silence. Not even a look.
"Yeah, it's cool, maaaan. Looking big Ben."
"Yeah" his voice was much deeper. He couldn't really bring himself to look. I was there to give him dinner money. He swiped it and desperately looked for an exit.
"Hey man, I dig it. Go do yo' thing." It was embarrassing at this point. My sister was on the sidelines cracking up. You can't get to this kid. His life is football. Very little is known about girls in his life. Until now...

I saw it first hand. I guess he has a magnetism I can't explain. He's pretty tall, closing in on 6 feet. Chiseled kid features, maudlin. After the game, I went to the gate to talk to Ben. He didn't ask me much. Stayed quiet. Deb (my sister) didn't say much either, other than "take a photo with your uncle" He quietly stood as I got my photo with him. I climbed back into the stands which is when I spotted her. A cute strawberry blonde cheerleader who was just staring at Ben. You just can tell when a girl likes a boy. She beamed as we said our goodbyes to him. That's when he turned and spotted her...and it was the first time in over 5 years I saw the kid smile. To be fair, he smirked. She shot back a huge smile. It was the cutest moment I've ever seen. And seemed midwestern Ohio Americana unreal. Ben still in his uniform smiling at a cheerleader. He quickly turned away from the girl.
And I ask my sister "Did you see that?"
"What?"
"That cheerleader was eyeing Ben."
"He gets that a lot."
"And...?"
"Yeah, that's it..."
"Jesus, what a waste of youth..."

I guess we should be happy he care about knocking one up at that age, but at the same time...I would've killed to have a cheerleader look at me like that.
Anyway, it was great to watch high school football. Except, the last time I was in the stands, internet didn't exist (1993). People paid attention to the game, instead of iPhone or whatever instant messaging they did. Even my sister was guilty of it. I just watched the game, and the plays they run. Man, they are fast and big.

Landed

I was shoulder to shoulder next to the flight attendant sitting in her jumpseat. Looking down I saw her right leg was bobbing up and down and her foot was tapping (a nervous tic?). I wanted to tell her what I observed...that when we were taking off from Denver her left leg was tapping. When we were landing, it was her right. I wonder if that meant anything. I didn't say anything. Would've been way too weird.

I'm in my sister's room typing this. Nothing's changed. If I were to re-do this room, I get rid of every piece of furniture and attempt to get two things that match. It's a wild combo of the different years (now decades) they've lived here. Everything appears re-purposed. Not hoarding, but certainly a lot of things that are outdated.

I recall when we first moved into this house in 1982. It's great, to explore the space of previous tenants. The place was built in the 1950's and seemed to have gone through small changes in the 70's. Then...nothing. The basement remains unfinished, as it was a pet project for my Dad when he was a younger guy. I remember it would flood when it rained. It has the musty odor of a basement. Looking back, it could've been re-tooled for a serious bachelor pad, had I never left Cincinnati. I've come to terms that they will never upgrade this place. I'm not sure why, other than they would rather spend the twilight of their lives in low-key dwellings. I know my Mom's best friend have upgraded their home numerous times. It's modernized. Somehow I feel like a failure, not being able to monetarily force my parents into a new standard of living. I dunno, even when I pushed buying them new cabinetry, my Mom's always balked. They never live beyond their means. In fact, the stainless steel refrigerator/stove set we got them a few Xmases ago, are covered in grease and crud. And have taken a beating. Cooking with grease is really awful to appliances.

The sense of this place is a bit haunted. I have stray memories of my high school life here. As before, I use to feel a bit melancholy, I suppose because it was during winter time I'd visit. It's now autumn, and the sense is different. I don't feel that autumn in Ohio feel I use to. However, I did arrive at night and see nothing. The neighborhood hasn't changed. Still the cul-de-sac. The drive past the city doesn't hold the same draw as it use to. I'm not sure why. I'm more sad I feel not a connection with a town I spent so much time in and grew up. I think due to the celebration that comes with holidays. I guess. The cold, the good will towards men. IF removed, it's another day in the Midwest.

I should with hold a lot of my opinions though. For instance, revealing that my Mom's restaurant (where she essentially volunteers) gets terrible Yelp reviews. She seemed genuinely hurt by the one star complaints. But she seemed smart enough to know that some people are jerks just to be jerks. And that there are great reviews and terrible ones. Everyone has an opinion. It's funny how she drew that comparison even though I've never related to her about movie reviews. It's the same thing. If you take the good reviews you also have to accept the bad ones.

Sarah: The Fascinating Seat Mate

I first spotted her across the room. A red head, looked gaunt and different from the people waiting. Prettier and younger than the bloated travel face. I shrugged. Dismissed the quick glance between us. We boarded the plane. It was a long one. I slowly made it closer and closer to my seat...

Guess who I got seated next to?
I was a bit uneasy. It's hard to catch someone's look and then end up seated next to them. Worst was that they see how uncomfortable you are.

Yep...her name was Sarah and she chirped up so peppy, it was hard not to like her. She rattled off questions left, right and center.
What do you do?
Where you from?
How many people in your family?
We both lived in the valley and talked about that too.
Her questions didn't stop...

I'm guessing she was under the age of 30, traveling to her hometown of Philadelphia. People overshare when they're nervous. She seemed to like telling me about her boyfriend, and the struggles she had living in the Valley. Yet...yet...she was so positive and...well, such a sweet soul. I'm not sure how to describe it other than manic. But a good manic. Like you can tell terrible things that befell her, for instance...having her car stolen didn't seem to phase her. She just chalked it up to being in Los Angeles. She sensed I was uneasy about flying. Frankly, I wanted to vomit. She informed me that her biggest nightmare was to have someone puke on her while she flew. And she's been places. Germany...to work with orphans for instance. This is not a person who lets crap in life get in the way. Oddly enough, she informed me she didn't have many friends in L.A. She had a boyfriend but no friend. She genuinely seemed interested in...people. Which is an endearing quality. I gave her my card, and told her to get in contact with me. It was nice to meet her and so forth.
Who knows if she'll follow through. We had a lot in common. I wasn't attracted to her in "that way" only that it made traveling so much nicer.

Travelin' To The 'Nati

Skylin chili
you really need to be from the town to appreciate. I tried my hand at it, and was decent. But...you know...requires long simmer and large Germanic arms to stir the pot for days. The secret is letting it sit for a very long time. It turns into a slurry, which is then put on top of spaghetti noodles or a hot dog with cheese. And you power through it. This is but a few things I look forward to.

Leaving Los Ang-e-leese for a little bit is always a nice feeling. I have my life here. Making da' movies with whispers of celebrity, but you don't really understand people unless you get to the ground floor of America. Americans in general don't know Hollywood. Or they read enough about it, I guess. I like that it remains a mystery that I can share. But often times, I am much more interested in my nephew's football team, or my niece's interests in "Frozen." A story about sisters, where she has none. I think I lost a lot of perspective being out here so long. It's insulated, if you want it to be.

I do hate flying. Man, the shuttling around is for shit. Being at the mercy of others' schedule is crap. But I am looking forward to hanging with Mom and Dad. Dad is getting older, and had a health scare earlier this month. This break came at a perfect time. As I've written in the past, he is very philosophical about things. And it's always great to hear his wisdom, for the time we have left.

I still have dizzy spells and flying makes me nauseous, so we're there too. Man, I sound like an old Asian man. "Oy! With the movin' and the shakin'" Yeah, we don't sound different from old Hassidics.

Anyway, see ya in a bit L.A.

Back To The Present

Great Scott! Today is October 21, 2015. To serious nerds this date means a lot. It's when Marty McFly went to the future. And, by buying the Sports Almanac nearly destroyed our past...um...1985.

The second movie of the trilogy is dark. But Zemeckis has stated he felt it was a more honest achievement of how the future could be. It's warped but still functional. Sort of. It really does say a lot about how politics eventually change the outcome of a city's landscape of over 30 years. If you have Goldie Wilson III, all is well, if you have Red...things are dark. Since the guy takes payouts from dirty Biff. Hill Valley becomes Vegas, essentially.

I like the movie, but it goes on pretty long. Especially re-doing the first Enchantment Under the Sea prom. That is a pretty excruciating gimmick. It belongs in the movie, but it just feels long.

Anyway, you can search out all the conspiracy theories of how much the movie got right or wrong. I mean, we don't get hover cars, but we get electric cars. That 'aint bad. Also, hoverboards. You can go fuck yourself with your hoverboards. Vintage stores exist. No one remembers "Power Of Love" or the Pinheads. Pepsi in weird bottles? Kitschy 80's memorabilia? Yeah, it's around. Cars don't fly.

Other than that...spot on!

"Blow Out" (1981)

Brian DePalma is a smarmy pervert. I love that. Which is why I love his movies. He loves looking at tits. And making women do nudity. I’m sure there’s a story out there about his fetishes. Strangling widowy baby doll voiced hookers. Who would this sound like?...yep…Hitchcock.

Blow out is about Jack Terry, a post sound editor/maker for sleazy schlock horror movies. He’s bored, but still dutiful in his business. This leads him to record sounds for these bad movies. While in the park, he inadvertently records the death of a governor and potential presidential candidate. Was it an accident or was it intentional? Who knows? In fact, DePalma completely drops the political garbage and focuses on the paranoia that creeps in when you fall into conspiracies. John Tavolta plays Terry, and he is saddled with Sally who is played by Nancy Allen. Both are DePalma graduates from “Carrie.” Nancy being DePalma’s muse...and ex-wife (it seems in the 1980’s). It’s also cool to see a supporting cast with Dennis Franz as a fitting Manny Karp. He is pitch perfect scuzball blackmailer.

This movie is fantastically crafted. It’s not surprise that it got the Criterion treatment. The DVD contains a great interview with Nancy Allen & Brian DePalma. And you get the insight to a movie that was inspired by another movie (DePalma claims it was inspired by his sound editing work in “Dressed to Kill”). The movie has a TON of gimmicks that make it stand out. Things like split-focus diopters (a signature of DePalma) and camera moves in a 360 circle as in one scene where Travolta threads audio and slowly discovers his audio has been erased. Or long takes with just letting actors act. It’s much more stylistic than “Scarface” and seems more cerebral and low-key. This movie may not make sense to the younger generation, since it involves a lot of technology that no longer exist. It’s wonderful to see an upright Moviola editor, or a sync block with audio readers. Trim bins, and grease pencils and Nagras (field sound recorder). I recall bringing the reel to reel Nagra home to Ohio from school and being told not to lose the lock screws that hold the reel in place. This is the most easily lost item. And really expensive replacement. It was cool to see that piece of gear, and remember of those days.

The other thing that I think we like are the how-to’s. Like when Travolta starts to put together single cells to make a flip book to recreate the car accident based on frame by frame shots he got from a magazine. This takes zero dialogue and you get what’s going on. Also, Nancy Allen has never been better. She has an ease about her. While being dim-witted, we still get a sense of street smarts. And while naïve, still has a good heart.

This movie is definitely worth a look.

Force Awakens Trailer

Okay nerds, your life sucks. Here is something to placate your nerd lives. New toys, new wild stories. Beautiful dreaming in the sky hopes and dreams and re-do's of A Hero's Journey. Who is the hero? I dunno. I actually could tell you, but I won't. As a circuitous world in which you live in L.A. it will come around again.

"Star Wars" is an event. And thankfully, re-done without George Lucas. My history with Lucas was one of the first jobs I had coming out of college was as a DVD guy working on the re-issues of the first three (that were released). Then they re-released again. Every time they did, they added one other thing. Remember the Malibu Stacy doll Lisa Simpson attempted to make into a feminist and the corporation added a hat, and re-sold? Yeah, like that. In fact, Lucas has admitted so. When the DVDs and VHS came out, he released a widescreen version AND a standard pan and scan version. They shot the movie widescreen ('scope) so it was total junk to watch it otherwise. But he knew some people didn't like the black bars on the top and bottom. Audiences, for the most part, don't fully comprehend. I would think the Star Wars folk would. Or would care. Or felt something was wrong. Other than the force was "off." Nope, sold so many units he made the next three which were prequels. Try watching them again. Flat, uninspired, greenscreen oddity. Lucas seemed to think actors didn't matter. I guess in the Star Wars universe, in general, it didn't.

The originals, Mark Hamill is pretty hammy. Carrie Fisher made no bones about the dialogue (as an accomplished writer now, she most likely gets ill revisiting). Made worse by following the ham that works. I 'aint mad. I think it's logical. This new one feels very sincere and earnest. It may stick out to a) eye popping visual FX b) good acting.

Fortunately for the powers that be, the chokehold of that universe was finally sold off to Disney. A company that prides itself in formulaic Hero with A Thousand Faces story structure. Fine. I love that shit. Shuffle the characters and away we go. My impression of the trailer? Meh. It seems to declare a lot of story I'm not familiar with (and I watched the first three over 100 times, not by choice though, I didn't even watch the original ones until I was 22 years of age and found them...quaint). I am glad Lucas isn't involved. He's got a great mind, but handing off his creations is the lifeblood of his true creative mind. His ideas are groundbreaking, his execution pedestrian. And to make it worse, convinced he's doing the right thing. I believe the lesson here is that as much success as we get, we are constantly trying our best to "crack the code." A man's reach should exceed his grasp? Maybe. Space is vast. As is our imagination. This broke ticket sales and the internet...and we're still just a month and a few out.

Ahmed Mohamed Visits White House

This kid is determined to milk this nonsense for all it's worth.
Kid didn't invent anything. He goofed off, and got pinched for supposedly making a bomb. Because he's Muslim and Obama doesn't want to re-neg on his promise, guy invited said "inventor" to the White House.

Don't we have bigger things to deal with? Also, what's the deal with these high profile nincompoops getting invites when...say someone like the Oregon community college guy who took 7 slugs to get after shooter didn't even get anything. Not even a mention by El Prez. We're sorta' fucked as a community if we've been honoring complete shams over real American heroes over outrage.

It's hard not to believe the new administration is getting some "payback" for all the injustices in the past. I know it's petty to think this way, but...we are still human.

Meat-Chicken Punter

Nothing thrills me in the sports world like watching Michigan Wolverines suffer losses. Nothing cuts deeper into my gut than watching a punter flail around desperately trying to save his team from the inevitable wall of humanity that bears down on him. With 10 seconds left in the game and Michigan about to beat Michigan State (which was ranked higher than them), coach Jim Harbaugh was tasting victory. And then the snap. It hit the punter dead in the hands, and ricochet forward. The punter was able to grab the ball and attempt to kick it. Which was blocked. And the Michigan State team recovered the ball and took it back for a touchdown.

Ouch.

I'm not gonna mention the punter's name, because I sincerely feel bad for the guy. A few things though...whenever something like this happens, it always becomes it's own legend. The Steve Bartman interference that set off a chain reaction to the Chicago Cubs fate, the Billy Buckner through the leg ball, don't get me started on Scott Norwood. But here we are. A highlight this young man desperately wants to forget. A day in which, could be a moment of glory, turns to a horrific meme. And now he's getting death threats. That's the worst of the worst. Considering this game wasn't even suppose to go their way, I would say, they did really well. But some out there have so much riding on these games. I'm certain the ones who gamble on college games, this one muff'd punt cost them (collectively) millions. Imagine having that on your conscience. There isn't a moment we'd like to take back. But to be the point in time where this kid could go on a downward slide is unconscionable. There is nothing we could say or do that will do that play over. And it was watched by millions. Throughout history, possibly billions. And that's what he has to live for. Then these asshats want to send death threats? Gimme a break. There are bigger things than college football. For one thing, any gambler understands college football betting is the absolute worst. Second, threatening someone online will just make you feel ugly and sick later in the day. You just hurt yourself. And, in fact, is a crime.

Again, I'm not defending the bad moment in time. Just the poor kid that has to endure this for not just one semester, or how many other years he goes through school, but a lifetime. And listening to Harbaugh. That guy is a tough mofo.

The Freshman Prom

I joined marching band as a freshman. I played the mellophone. We were known universally as “The Band Geeks.” I thought we were cool. We whittled ourselves down to a pep band for basketball games and expanded for symphony where I played the panty-ripper French horn (more like the Vagina sander).

In marching band we had something called “Color Guard.” Who we dubbed “The Whore Corps.” It was funny to us 15 year olds, since they were really unattractive women. Except for my friend Ashley, all the other women were pretty rough. I guess I shouldn’t judge, I never got girls.

It was prom time…I was just a freshman at the time, so I just wanted to play my guitar and get my driver’s license. One of the flag girls named Jennifer was a junior and she wanted to go to the prom. She had the typical 1989 blonde frazzled perm. Large hair, and large blue eyes hidden behind big grandma glasses. In a teen movie, she would be the friend of the nerd girl, in the background holding a Trapper Keeper. Well, one day she out and asked me to prom. My brain nearly melted. I’m 14 years old asked to a prom by a 16 year old. I recall being flattered she asked, but being so nerdy myself, just had no clue the gravity of what it meant to her. I don't think she asked because she liked me romantically, I think she just knew I'd say yes. Because she didn't know all that many guys. So I said “yes.” And thus was a montage week you see in high school prom prep.

I decided to get a white tux for the night. To which I regretted during the event. Because the wait staff were in white tuxedos as well.

I got a lot of respect because I went to prom as a frosh. But I wasn’t attracted to Jennifer. There was this hot chick I was obsessed with. So to me, it was pure friendship. I had a great time, but it was all so brother and sisterly. To me, anyway.

And we went on with the end of school. An odd thing happens at social events. This is why weddings are the best time to meet girls. You’re looking your best. So I got a weird feeling during band that year. Jennifer would attempt to talk to me. Sit with me on bus trips to marching band competitions. All the while, not really showing her much attention. I think she eventually got the message and things got awkward for a while. I felt she we should be dating, but I was too young to care. I really developed late. I think she ended up dating a few guys in high school. But I think she really focused on her life before anything else.

Eventually I got a serious girlfriend as a junior and she faded into the background as I went off to college.

It’s been over 20 years now, and I stumbled on her Facebook page. She got her hair straightened and is now a redhead. Lost her glasses and, at 42 years old, is absolutely stunning. She looks like a young Julianne Moore. She also recently married. And looks amazingly happy. It actually made me feel great for her.

I think the concept of ugly duckling exists. If I have to pass any advice to my 16 year old nephew, it would be that don’t overlook the gawky girl. Not that we don’t grow due to looks, or that looks should matter, but I think the “ugly duckling” tends to have a deeper well to draw from . The popular pretty girls fade quick (the girl I was obsessed with went to Duke, wasn’t the prettiest girl there, and fizzled out fast). The prom queen in high school will make you miserable.

The prom photo of Jennifer and I still sits in a frame on my work table at my parent’s house in Cincinnati. I look so dumb and awkward with a stupid haircut, and as an added dumb move, I thought it was cool to grab the girl’s hand. Jennifer and I smile broadly. Her smile is nature. My smile looks forced and like I shit myself. When I visit I laugh at that goofy photo. My Mom loves the photo. Because it’s me dressed nicely (a VERY rare thing). She casually remarks “that’s a really pretty girl.” At the time I waved her off. It’s funny how Mother’s see what you can’t.

"Bridge Of Spies" (2015)

We’re going to really miss Spielberg when he retires. IF he retires. This is craft to the highest form. And the attention to every detail is sorely lacking in movies. Craft is IMPOSSIBLE to relate to movie makers today, because it’s when talent meets instinct. And we lack instinct.

The story is of Tom Hanks who plays defense attorney James Donovan, that deals with insurance policies. As we’re introduced in the beginning, he does what every defense attorney does, he spins the truth to meet his client’s point. It’s a little scheisty, but he’s clearly effective. This gathers the attention of his boss, who assigns him the duty to defend an alleged Soviet spy. I don’t even believe in due process, unless I’m busted…of course, but he is entitled to a “fair” trial. If that is even possible. The United States is under high alert in light of the Cold War (Muslims anyone?) and Germany is rebuilding…sort of. With the freeze out of the Russians who’ve gone deep into secrecy. Were we ever friends? So, now we got a captured Ruskie…what happens? Well, don’t want to give away too much. But he is exactly how we imagine someone captured should act who comes from the Eastern Block. Cold, detached and resigned to their fate.

So, now as advertised, we get a spy exchange. But who does it? The C.I.A. washes their hands of the issue. The State Department don’t want to be involved? Well, they wrangle Donovan into the mission. Except, it’s not a mission. Because if caught or killed Donovan is on his own. Because of the freeze out (literally) of Berlin, and the historical split to East and West, they aren’t playing games.

The movie isn’t the most exciting. Espionage, in the truest sense, would most likely be a lot of waiting. But this moves at a really nice clip and because of craft…you watch every beautiful frame with anticipation of the next visual (beautifully shot on film by Janusz Kaminski).

This is a movie that only professionals put together. The minute you watch, you know the people who made it are skilled. There is an easiness, practically effortless (looks like) storytelling. They let the moments between the family develop. The intricacies of our diplomacy made simple despite the thick fog of friends and enemies. A classy sophisticated movie. It’s high art.

My Friend Kurt

I first met Kurt in 3rd grade. He was already a gangly weird looking kid. Who was I to judge though, I was one of two Asian face in a lily white school. Kurt rode my bus. Long arms, tall and a curly Jew-fro, even though he was German as fuck. One day on the playground, Kurt took the opportunity to take a running start towards me, before I could react, he kicked me dead in the dick. I doubled over. And he ran off cackling. Girls around us were gasping, unsure what had just happened. When I gathered my breath, I chased him down, shoulder tackled him and beat the fuck out of him. At least tried. You try wrestling with an octopus. I pounded his face, maybe got him good in the ear. Looking back I should've grabbed some grass and made him eat it. Then we were pried apart. The fucker was STILL laughing.

We're still friends to this day. His birthday is even a few days after mine, but a year later, a detail he relishes in reminding me, as well as the kick in the nuts.

My point being, there is value to dudes beating on each other and walking away lifelong friends. Today, this would result in knives or guns and then...two destroyed futures. I'm saying, when young people get into a fistfight, you never know what results. It's not of any malice, then bored boys being boys. Today, we've taken all of this out because of liability. Or the (understandable) need to protect children. When you're young you're resilient. Because the end the result could be these school shootings that are so rampant today. It was unheard of back then in the 80's. Shooting up schools had no value. The simple embarrassment is also a very good lesson in what life will give you. Again, today, too many young folk seem they are owed something without effort. Or even taking a hit to the nuts. It seems most people these days take a step back and already see failure. It's not. We don't all get a trophy. I've had friends in college that were made the same way. Drunken brawls that resulted in lifelong friendship. That is the point. Adversity finds you the oddest compatriot.

What Message Does THIS Send?

Recently I cancelled my membership to Amazon prime. They tell me my shit gets to me faster if I get prime. It's a premium. In other words, I'm not satisfied with just the basic put the shit in the mail and mail it to me, it's that I need it faster, because I'm an impatient fuck. Also, is your service that bad that you need to entice people with faster service. I mean, shouldn't THAT be your default?

I'm not just picking on Prime here, EVERYTHING. You are constantly bombarded with shit you can upgrade. Well, if I knew they were this mediocre why don't THEY change their policy. Instead, the message is this...you pay more you get more (or in this case faster). While that is true, the simple fact is that some things don't require the need for more or faster. The postal service for example isn't going speedier because you slid them money. That's the U.S. government. So what are you telling me? That you haven't notified some business to send me my shit or withheld postage for that "not Prime" rate. Or worse, you flat out are selling me air. Which is what I believe it to be. They are selling nothing but air. The policy for most mail sent is next day shipping. It now takes roughly two days to get to you. Now, are you telling me that you purposely hold mail from me? Or that you're giving me the license to bitch if it doesn't get to me fast. Cause that's all you get.

Anyway, probably a dumb point about service. But it's weird we are now starting at basement and paying to move up to middle.

Pile On Cos'

You almost wished he didn't say what he said about ghetto youth pulling up their pants and speaking properly. Or that Hannibal Burress didn't repeat it. Since now, what we have here is an alleged serial rapist. More women are coming out of the woodwork to claim Cos had ruffie'd them and raped them. I saw a similar case recently where a man (coincidentally from Philly as well) drug and rape over 20 women in that area. The guy was acquitted TWICE. Then this moron goes to Sun Valley, ID and drug and raped another woman. This time the woman was a lesbian. He STILL claimed it was consensual. Since she was also drunk. But a cab driver had seen him drag her unconscious body into their apartment. How can you consent to sex if you're out cold, right? The next morning she called the cops. They did the date rape kit. Guy was busted. The thing about the previous rapes...the women actually went on MORE dates with him after they suspected he'd raped them. Rape counselors say this is because the victim feels like they don't want to believe they could be so wrong about a person. So they keep dating a guy, even though they feel overwhelmingly suspect of the person. Not to be a complete asswipe, but the guy was a good-looking dude who passed himself as a astronaut, a C.I.A. operative and a ER doctor. What woman wouldn't want that? Answer: Stupid ones.

Now I know you may feel I'm blaming the victim, but C'MON! I know the lot of us guys are somewhat loser-y, but that's a lottery crap shoot. Women do need to take some responsibility for their bad choices. Their, sometimes, reluctance to "settle" results in desperately finding a doctor, an astronaut, or a C.I.A. operative. They don't seem to face the same reality guys have to. They can put on makeup, breast job and we'd climb over each other to talk to you. Meanwhile, we have to take jobs we hate to make a lot of money to satisfy the narcissism you want to portray on social media. In Cosby's day women were falling over themselves to get with celebrity. It's really the price you pay. But, whatever, we're not allowed to state the ugly nature of human beings. On both sides of the ball. Because one screams ultimately louder than the other, guess who gets the attention?

What the media constantly ignore is that women threw themselves at Cosby for his contacts. They wanted to have fame and fortune and career in entertainment. In our minds today, it is sickening, but we really don't know, less we ever get in that position. Most of us were jealous of Cosby's position in life. A worshiped comedian. Powerful speaker. And a champion of education. Then his fame led to others wanting to exploit. Good or bad. Did he have to ruffie them? That's where he was a disaster. But we're really putting our 2015 sensibility into a different time. He used them before they could use him.

I don't suggest to anyone you ever use your position in any industry to induce women, whether or not they throw themselves at you for sex. It's just not worth it. Find women the traditional way, through friends, family or church.

L.A. Kills Ya'

Lamar Odom...never seen him play. I guess he's famous...here in L.A. as a Laker.

Here's the story according to the owner of the legal brothel:

"Dennis Hof owns the Love Ranch in Las Vegas where former NBA star Lamar partied for four days before being found unconscious on Tuesday. He remains in a critical condition in hospital. From the moment Lamar was found, Dennis has been granting interviews and making media appearances. When cautioned, he told Khloe Kardashian to "go to hell" Dennis, 69, previously insisted that he doesn't care what Khloe, 31, or her family thinks of him and has been giving interviews to a number of publications, detailing Lamar's time at the ranch where he partied with prostitutes, took herbal Viagra and drank cognac."

 I've heard Dennis Hof speak. He's an unrepentant pimp. Pretty intelligent guy, as he exploits the exploitable for money. Who did he attract? People like comedian Andy Kaufmann. A legit place that makes legit money. Odom wanted to kill himself there. After being married to Khloe Kardashian. Not as a result of, but rather after the marriage dissolved.

Man...Kardashians are terrible people. Terrible things happen to them constantly. Confused mixed up weird shit. They just circle themselves with a freak show. Which I won't go into, since the internet have plenty of this. What I will say is, you can't have this many tragedies occur consistently, if you surround yourself with decent people. Not media hungry brands like Kardashian. These fools would sell their Mom (which they have) for fame. It's the constant ugliness you see in this industry. And to make sure people are a) jealous of you b) are on their radar they have to feed the beast. Want to hear something even more cynical. I doubt any of the Kardashians even care about Odom. The spotlight is on him, where do moths flock to? Yep...

Things like this are the consequences. Of course, we can't blame them. That's shaming them. And why judge their lives. I say don't change a thing. Be who you are. See what's it's gotten you so far. Enjoy it.

Concussion

I absolutely love watching football. It's pure entertainment to me, because of the random-ness of the ball. The ballet of moving through the field. And the coordination of it all. However,, a new movie is coming out that is about the dangers of playing football.

Another former player had been diagnosed with concussion symptoms that may have caused him to act erratically which resulted in his suicide. Now...I'm no doctor, but I'm certainly sympathetic to the athletes that put themselves in harm's way for the sport.

I'm not here to talk about the right and wrong of these cases. It's pretty obvious that when you put yourself in these moments, permanent damage to your body and mind occur. It occurs when you're just simply breathing. Or stretch wrong. Or kick something because you're pissed off. Or drink too much. It's just the odd risks people are willing to take when they know the result. And it's not always a sudden thing. I think when players stop playing is when they realize the true damage they've done to themselves. Much like when I stopped drinking booze. I really had no gauge as to the damage. But when I sobered up, my brain ached. The side effects were so awful, I can't even imagine what it must feel like for someone who took repeated hits to the head. They're punch drunk. And I get it, they get paid a ton of money to play what is essentially a kid's sport. But the physical risk for entertainment...I think as a society we may have hit bottom. Not because I don't enjoy watching the sport. Just that I hate liking something that will eventually hurt someone permanently.

Would they ever get rid of football? I don't think so. There's way too much money in it now. Which also sickens me a little. That we put dollars over brain cells. It doesn't sicken me enough to stop watching, so that makes me a hypocrite.

You know, it occurred to me how much pro football is very much like meat factories. You fatten the players up to play, you weigh 'em, trade 'em and when it's time for the pasture, you put them down. Also, we don't want to know how these things are done. We know but we don't know. Like say...hot dogs. How those are made. We just don't want to wrap our heads around the ugliness, because it would ruin the fun.

Uh....Krogering

It 'aint a new dance move...

I grew up going to Kroger’s in Cincinnati. It is a grocery store. That place was great, because it would be open 24 hours. If we were drunk or stoned, no better place than to hang out until we sobered up. It was announced this week Kroger plans on adjusting their healthcare program to include transgender reassignment surgery.

This surprised me. Not because of the adjustment. But because it happened in Cincinnati, Ohio. See, growing up in this town in the 80’s we had very intolerant people. We’re talking Marge Schott. The bonkers owner of the Reds that claimed Hitler had a point. Cincinnati was a HUGE German town too. The place smelled like a brewery, though there was only one that existed. It is home of the largest Oktoberfest outside of Germany. We’re talking blue collar, beer drinking baseball lovin’ white America. We celebrated everything that was American. Red, white and blue everywhere. Also, said the Pledge of Allegiance to this country and all that. We also banned Mapplethorpe for obscenity. Not sure people remember that one. So we’re not seen as particularly progressive.

Let me backtrack a bit and tell you that Kroger, along with Proctor & Gamble were the backbone of Cincinnati. Kroger owns Ralph’s out here in Los Angeles. As well as a lot of other grocery chains throughout the country. They have an enormous reach. I was surprised to learn how much. As an American industry, it’s hard not to be behind them 100%. Considering Wal-Mart has basically gobbled up the rest of America. Kroger was  instrumental in keeping it American. And if you think about how quickly businesses open and closed, it’s even more startling how long this business has lasted. They even have their own brand of no frills goods that rival Wal-Mart’s Kirkland brand. I take great joy in buying up hometown goods. A nickel in the can, grass roots support, I reckon.

So, it is of some pride that they are the tip of the spear of being so open minded when it comes to something so brand new. The way that Cincinnati works, in terms of their liberal mindset is close to non-existent. So it is of note to say that this new change is pretty amazing. Although, it could be more beneficial, say to provide stock options, rather than the unconventional transgender optional surgery. This will, of course, be met with very strong conservative resistance. Considering we are still talking about people who still wave Dixie flags proudly. I’m sure the prevailing argument is that it will attract more unseemly characters to the city. Or…maybe bring it to a similar level as Portland. A town people make better by being better people.

I admire the chutzpah of my small city town. They recognize the new frontier, despite my own prejudices towards sexually confused gender ________(fill in blank). Who am I to argue with a successful business model?

Zero To 100

If you fart around long enough in L.A. and you're fairly young, chances are you will go from absolutely nothing to do, to busy as a mother-effer.

In the span of a few weeks, I've received two feature scripts to shoot (one in Atlanta), doing pre-production on a movie I want to do (collaborating on conceptual art), doctoring a short film script. Doing final color on my short film, sound mix and music selects, another tiny project I want to do before the next short film or either of the features (fortunately not until February for those). Meetings about features. And holding a full time job that's been going 12 hour days lately.

This is not complaining, as it feels better than sitting on my ass watching murder mysteries.

One other thing I've come to realize as I'm inundated with this wave...whether or not these do well...any of these...it is staying creative. And people out there have stories to tell. And the people who are doing things are sick and tired of waiting for other people to get it together.

Drinker's Diet

If you're trying to maintain weight, and still want to imbibe alcohol, your best bet is distilled booze. For example...Scotch is perfectly fine. I wouldn't do wine or beer. Beer gives you bitch tits. Wine has a ton of sugar. Cut a lot of your boozing with solid protein though. Like if you drink scotch, have some cheese or some prosciutto with it. Or just eat bacon and eggs with a glass of scotch. Preferably after work.

I think the biggest mistake people make when drinking, besides overdoing it, is not having good food on hand while drinking. The biggest damage to the gut is powering down a bag of Fritos (as I use to do) with drinking. Makes your face and your gut fat. You tend to stuff your face with total crap when you get drunk. So why not have accessible solid food around? Like boiled eggs are great.
The point is to remain satiated.

School Meals

Do you remember your first school lunch? Mine costs my Mom 50 cents per meal. This was in 1982. The first time I bought school lunch, I thought I was badass. The school I went to sold lunches by the week. So a week’s lunch costs $2.50. To my surprise, a lot of kids brought their own lunch. They had cool lunch boxes. Some plastic. Some metal. The metals ones were rough, as they rusted pretty quickly. The lunch at school was so scant. I think about it now. You got a peanut butter and jelly, a cookie and a milk. For a 2^nd grader, that was a snack, not a meal. I ditched buying lunch pretty early. I would say about 4^th grade. Started packing my own lunch. My Mom preferred just giving me money. I packed a thermos, a Twinkie, a turkey sandwich. It was a “Dukes Of Hazzard” thermos. Catherine Bach was on it. For some odd reason, by the time I got to lunch the thermos would leak onto my sandwich. It made it soggy, and gross. I tossed that, and ended up just eating the Twinkie. The most obvious of obvious slipped my brain. My parents owned a Chinese restaurant. Common sense would be that I would pack Chinese food. I did one day and ended up trading my shrimp in lobster sauce for a bologna sandwich. Looking back, that was seriously stupid. I had gourmet food. But I wanted to eat what everyone else was eating. And I did love tater tots. Still do to this day.

I guess later on, school lunch got a little better the older I got. They also started to cost more. We got square pizza and mac and cheese. The slop was burnt at the corners. Funny how when I see that now, it takes me back to Fridays at school.

In high school we started to go outside of school. In the morning we’d stop off at Perkins to a get a bottomless pot of coffee and burger and fries. High school breakfast was great.

The Gut Shredder

Recently I've been getting old guy doughy. It's being 40. And eating garbage. Ribs, chicken, fried foods, shit I like. But I came across this awesome workout. It's what they call a "countdown workout"

Two exercises required, one is the kettle bell swing, the second is squat thrust

This was shit we use to do in school P.E. Here's a pretty girl to help you out with the first part:

Here's the second half with a dude:

SO here's the deal...I'd start out with 8 reps of each first. I thought I could do 15, nearly barfed on the hot chick next to me at gym.
Take the kettle bell and swing 8 times, then IMMEDIATELY go into 8 squat thrust. Then WITHOUT STOPPING swing kettle bell 7 times, and do 7 squat thrust. Then got to 6 kettle bell swings, and 6 squats. All without stopping. Get all the way down to one. That's it. Walk away. Or in my case...crawl away.

I got fucking winded. And I felt it the next morning in my lower abs. That's great. To make it more difficult, you can always add in a jumping jack after each one. But GO at your pace (with a little push).

I think it works because you're using your own body weight to lift yourself up, and (as far as the kettle bell goes, extend your lower back. Push and pull!

The Hypocrisy of Los Angeles Food Vending

One of the great things about Los Angeles is that there is a double standard with people trying to make a living and people who try to do things legitimately in terms of running a business. I was outside of Big Lots when I spotted the bacon hotdog cart. No vendor’s license. Just a little bit of tin foil, a cart which consisted of some bizarre box slapped together mobile heating unit braced against a van. They are in a business lot. A few things came to mind:

The law in Los Angeles requires you have a usable bathroom within your eating establishment. The food trucks make deals with businesses to do so. I guarantee neither Big Lots or K-Mart set anything up with this vendor. I also doubt this lady knows this law. I only found out, because a food truck vendor outside a cigar shop I frequent told me why the food cart doesn’t come everyday. It requires they post up next to a business that allows its patrons to use their bathroom. They cut a percentage of their sales to that business.

There’s no health code standards. This lady made bacon wrapped hot dogs. I spotted her using the same tongs at the raw goods as she did the vegetables. A total no-no. And a bin of condiments that aren’t chilled. On a 90 degree Los Angeles day, this bad news. Especially with the mayonnaise. Did she give a fuck? She gave no fuck. In fact, there wasn’t even water (that I could see) to wash anything.

They are next to their van and using a heating element. If they set fire to themselves…Big Lots/Kmart has themselves a massive lawsuit. For what? It’s their parking lot. And it’s near impossible to regulate any safety, as they are not in the cooking food business. Too bad though, it’s hard to ignore this setup and not prohibit this.

Do I care? No. I bought a dog. Slapped some mustard and onions on it. Paid my $3. The dog was solid. Good eats on a hot day. I felt like a cop posted up against my car watching the human traffic. I watched as people drove by in their car, stepped out, bought a dog and drove off. It’s more than likely untaxable income too.

The thing that bugs me, is the debilitating laws that choke out the ma and pa that want to open up a small business in a store. In a way, this hotdog cart lady is what everyone should require to run a business. Nope. If you set up a legit brick and mortar, the regulations and rules you follow destroys your will to open a food business. If I got poisoned by her hot dog, big fucking deal. I’m dumb to buy street food. IF I get poisoned at a legit business, they’d be shut down. This is the hypocrisy of Los Angeles. I’m sure no one begrudges this lady. I certainly didn’t. I patronized her business. I do believe that there are things that we can overlook if we just use our heads and not rely on a foolish “zero tolerance” policy. I guess my gripe is, stop regulating small business with so many rules and laws. The liability is on the business. Consider that now we have Yelp, the people’s opinion could kill a business much faster than any regulation could.

Top 4 College Football

Baylor vs. Kansas

Baylor destroys teams. Maybe to show unequivocally they deserve a spot move up. I am impressed with the years with this team. I never even knew about Baylor 5 years ago, but they’re on the map now. And would be a great addition, if they can sustain the average of 60 points/game.

Michigan State vs. Rutgers

I’ll be the first to say…Rutgers is not an easy team. Their players quietly make it into the NFL. And they are scrappy. Of all the teams to join the Big Ten, I thought they were a great one. They seem to be the spoiler team that enjoys just being that team. Did you know college football started with Rutgers. They’re the oldest team.

TCU vs. Kansas State

To paraphrase Denny Green: the Hornfrogs are who we thought there were!

I’m watching this game now. K-State is a pretty decent team. But that was a meltdown. I heard about them because I had a roommate that went there. So I watched a few games. They are tough. And now they have a brand new $108 million dollar stadium. It’s funny K-State coach looks like a mummy, looks so weird in a spanking brand new stadium. One thing about TCU, if OSU ends up playing them in the playoffs, they’re fucked. Heisman hopeful QB Traveon Boykin can make a break for daylight. His speed is legit. And the Buckeyes look terrible against the run. Specifically straight down the middle. Their D-line gets blown off the ball when going north and south.

Ohio State vs. Maryland

I’ve said it before, Buckeyes are a second half team. There is a patience in studying the plays of your opponent before knowing their weak spot. I don’t think QB Cardale Jones is that forward thinking, but Urban Meyer seems to be. The frustrating thing about them is how slow they start. They seem to sleepwalk through the plays. Allowing their opponents to gain momentum. Or confidence. Yes, it works well in the regular season, but you get the sense that well will run dry. Ezekiel Elliott deserves more carries. Who cares if they hit walls? This guy in the open field is ridiculous. How do you outrun a cornerback in the flat then turn it up field past a safety? That’s speed and power.

Good job Texas Longhorns for knocking off number 10 Oklahoma. A week before, they were blasted. They redeemed themselves. And coach Charlie Strong can keep his gig…and he looks pretty good crowd surfing.

The Stripper Movie Part 2

We put out an ad to Backstage West with a very specific listing as having nudity in it. You MUST feel comfortable doing nudity. The worst movies are the ones where they sign a star actress as a stripper and she doesn't do nudity. It's phony. And it really reminds you that she is a famous person. The flipside to that was when Halle Berry did unnecessary nudity in "Swordfish." Completely dumb.

I was shocked to see so many submissions. I learned later on that no one reads a posting. They just read the first two lines. 20's mid-western girl. That's it. I think I even got a posting of a kid in a wheelchair and that my movie may need someone in a wheelchair. THAT was heartbreaking. My friend Eric was casting this with me. We called in over 50. Most were very friendly. We asked about how comfortable they felt with nudity. No issue. They say this now. Most have a BIG issue. They just want to do the part. Maybe they can talk you out of it once it comes to shooting. We were very professional. I didn't care to look at tits. Okay, that's a lie, I wanted to look at tits. But, I'm guessing that's what people watching this would too. They'd be confused if they didn't. The other battle was getting someone to take off clothes for a student film. Non-paid is terrible trade-off.

When it came down to three candidates, one didn't have the availability. Since we had to split the weekends. Back then, we would only shoot on weekends because of economics. Weekends for rentals you get two days for the price of one. The other girl who we didn't end up with just had second thoughts about the nudity. The last girl, Jennifer...was not only eager, she had a mix of sweet and dark the part needed. She was new to town. Big bright eyes, with dark hair. For the most part, a girl with dark hair and piercing blue eyes has an appeal for both men and women. She was so sweet, I didn't think she'd be game to play a stripper. I explained all the nuts and bolts of the shoot.

She came in for the final audition to read. On this final day, Russ, the cameraman wanted to see the women as well. I came to the conclusion later on that he was just a perv. I guess, I can't throw stones. Young guys.

Finally it came time for her to take off her top. Now, I have to explain something...my directing teacher told me that this was a must. This was a woman directing teacher. YOU DO NOT WANT SURPRISES. We cleared the room. Except for me and Russ. Eric wanted to stay, but I told him, this would be too weird.  I could tell Jennifer didn't feel comfortable. She took over her top and there she stood in front of us, topless. And it was cold. We told her to take a spin, which she reluctantly did. Then I told her to put her top back on. Something about how Russ was desperate to be in the room, struck me as creepy and shady. I won't throw stones, I was in the room too. You can argue I was the director. And the logic could be, she has to come to feel comfortable with this if she wanted the role. Welcome to the project, Jennifer.

A few days later, I had time to reflect on this. It hit me at the core how much people in this town were willing to let complete strangers look at them to be immortalized in movies. I've (unfortunately) been around people who posted fake casting notices for roles for a movie they never intended to make so they can meet women. I think this was worse. Sure, I wanted her for the project. But it made me think twice about making a movie about a stripper. Exploitation doesn't seem to be my bag. I have two sisters and a Mother. It seemed...odd. To do make believe. I'm not going to feign being a saint. I just don't know why it was more perverse, other than the expression of someone truly uncomfortable doing something with a carrot dangled in front of them. Hollywood whoredom, I think. There are obviously people who have zero problem with this. You have to understand we are talking late 90's. There is really no internet as we know it now. I actually think I still have that audition tape. Never watched it since. It reminded me of the stories you'd hear about the casting couch. Depending on which side you wanted to be on, it all leaves with an empty shameful feeling.

My project fell apart. Just didn't get it together. And I think I lost a lot of gas dealing with the morality of it. Not that I care about nudity. I love looking at porn. It just was so awkward. Calling Jennifer to tell her, she sweetly told me she understood, and that hopefully it comes together some day. It hasn't. It's a bad script.

A lot of women really don't have a problem with nudity for art. I think I was concealing lonely pervert heart in the guise of art. To be phony at that level could've marred me for life. My original idea of having a maudlin stripper contemplating life made no sense, if she felt inhibited by me trying to protect her moral values. That wasn't what it was about. A lot of guys get into the business to do this type of thing. I didn't want to be in that pack.

A few months later, a friend had asked me about girls I'd know that could do a part in a movie. I recommended Jennifer. She called me up later to tell me about it. In her droll mid-western voice "yeah, more of the same." The director on that movie went on to make an Academy Award winning movie.

The Stripper Movie

This sort of goes with Ashley Judd's thing about despicable pig behavior about guys who make movies.

When I was in graduate school, I had to make a thesis project. Very few people know this story except the ones involved. It's horrible in that, in hindsight, I was exactly what I hated about this business. Manipulating garbage. And to the unsuspecting. Or who knows...you decide...

I'd written a script about a stripper who is a part time student. It was going to be a big production. I was sinking in $25,000 into it. Going to shoot it on 35mm film. Everyone else borrowed camera gear from school and shot 16mm. It's cheaper. But I wanted something glossy. I was going to rent. I put so much energy into the nuts and bolts, and promoted myself so hard, I didn't realize until just recently how ballsy that kid was.

Anyway, the story was total garbage. But, here's the thing...being lonely in L.A. (as my girlfriend at the time had dumped me) I wanted to make a "atmosphere" movie. It was going to be fragmented deep thoughts voicing the depression I must've been in. Through the eyes of a stripper. A grad student, named Russ, a few years ahead of me was going to shoot it.

I did terrible storyboards and conceptual art. I was really serious about this movie. At 25 years old, I thought I was Luis Bunuel. So during casting we called in a lot of women. The entire time, I kept wondering what they would look like nude. Since it was a stripper movie, we had to see nudity. My directing teacher was apprehensive, as was my screenwriting teacher. The directing teacher was a middle aged woman. What the Hell did she care? She warned me of all the strict SAG issues with this. I didn't care.

At the time I was living in Hollywood. At Van Ness and Hollywood Boulevard. It was a pit. But it was where the action was. It was 1999 and NO ONE was there. I mean, homeless and a free clinic lined my street back then (tawny Thai restaurants and high priced apartments occupy that street now). A few blocks away was Jumbo's Clown Room. This is an infamous place to the people of Hollywood, as it was where a bunch of future actresses went to get quick money. It's a pasties type place. No nudity. I needed a strip club. By the way...this plays into the naivete of a guy fresh in Hollywood...I thought this wasn't going to be an issue. As a grown up now...it was completely stupid. I hadn't really known the San Fernando Valley was the best bet. Strip clubs galore. Except at that time it was owned by some seriously scary people. Probably still is. Just now surrounded by...Thai restaurants. I walked into Jumbo's full of confidence. Didn't help my 25 year old Asian face made me look 13. The woman behind the counter looked at me wearily. She was in her 20's as well. She was wiping down the bar when I entered. I threw my pack of smokes on the bar. I smoked cigarettes back then. I thought it was a tough guy move.
"Got an I.D., sweetie" (shit...sweetie is what they call a kid)
"yeeess.." I reluctantly pulled out my driver's license.
"Fuckin' Ohio, huh?"
I nodded.
"WhatcanIgetya'" It was said so fast.
"Uh...you the manager" I was sure my voice cracked.
"No." Jumbo's is a TINY place. The actual stripping area is basically just a strip of wood. I can't imagine anyone not hurting themselves trying out moves there. She called out to someone.
A guy appeared from underneath the bar. Where the fuck---
"What's up?" He took a look at my pack of smokes. "No smoking in here."
I cleared my throat "uh. Sure, okay..I'm a grad student at Loyola Marymount and I'm making a short movie."
He gave me one of those side glances. He's heard this tap dance before. "And um..."
"Look" he flipped over an ashtray "go ahead, but if fire inspector comes in, it's a candy dish." He seemed to sense my nerves and decided I needed a smoke. I lit up a Camel. Whoooosh. Felt better.
"I need a strip club. I can shoot off-hours, I'd pay security...please."
I didn't even finish my sentence, "yeah, sure."
That's it. All that for "yeah, sure."
"People shoot in here all the time. You ARE a student, right?"
"Oh yeah!" I went back to my wallet for my student ID.
"It's cool man. Just on the off-hours." I offered to pay for a drink. He waved it off.
"Yeah, it'd be a weekday." At this time, Jumbo's was pretty hot. So not only did I get a bar, I got a strip bar.
This is where it gets seedy...and where I become ashamed of my self... 

Always Look For The Best Thing In What You Do

Sitting at the Burbank Boy’s Big Boy, it reminds me of my Mom who does the salad prep at the Frisch’s Big Boy in Norwood, OH.

She doesn’t need to talk to anyone, she just does her job. The place has been there for four decades (as far as I know). My Mom is proud of her job, despite that it doesn’t do anything but buy her “beer and pizza” money, as she use to tell me (she doesn’t eat pizza or beer, but it’s the meaning that counts). People should be proud to do what they do no matter what it is. When I got my first job, it was washing pans at Little Caesars. That place was a cesspool, looking back now. In Ohio there was no health rating, so I’m sure we’d have been shut down had this been in California. The only reason the place stayed up to code, was because my lesbian managers HATED cockroaches. I found it funny she’d smoke her Virginia Slims while kneading dough. Anyway, she made me scrub those baseboards until they were glossy. They didn’t let me handle the cheese cutter, because I was only 14 at the time. I didn’t care. It seemed every time I had a job, I looked for the best of it. It seemed that way even when it wasn’t a job that paid.

I was busted years ago for hit and run accident. I was so drunk at the time, it all seemed like a nightmare. Didn’t even realize what I’d done, until I woke up the next morning. I hid out in my apartment until they towed my car. It’s funny, in Sherman Oaks, California, they do very little when property damage happens. I still get anxiety when I think of it, because I could’ve seriously hurt someone. It makes me sick now.

But they nailed me with a shit-ton of community service. And the state wanted me to pay dearly. I wanted me to pay dearly. I fucked up. So they put me on Cal-trans. Which is doing garbage clean up on the side of the highway. 30 days of it. 240 hours collectively. There wasn’t a requirement you had to do shit. But, you were there for 8 hours either way. I made the best of it. Got some exercise and sun. Government training program. I think that is the key to life. To look for the best in what you do. My Mom instilled that in me. She was so proud to show me around her workspace at Big Boy’s. It makes a huge difference.

Your Movie Is A Piece of Crap

I recently worked on a movie where the executive producer came in to finalize the project. He blurted out that the movie is complete and absolute garbage. To which this news trickled down to my co-worker who told me what he said. That's how fast information travels. Keep in mind, my co-worker's English is HORRIBLE. It's really weird when people know when something doesn't work. In the big studio movies, I'm not sure what they're judging this on. This movie has been released already, and just broke even, but just knowing how bad a movie you have on your hands is sickening. Especially as the money person.

I think it also takes a lot of chutzpah to say exactly what can't be really said. Too many people say too many things. Coddling and blowing smoke up the actor's rear ends, telling them this/that/the other. The cast and crew party happens, and then...the post production is in the dark. Now...

...a few things come to mind. Did the script suck? Did they mis-cast? Did production shoot what was needed? Go over budget? Judging by the dailies, not a single issue arose from the shoot. No divas, no drama, nothing...it wasn't until they started to piece it together that they truly knew they were in trouble.

And honestly...I have no idea what works. Obviously there are some things that are at the core of what was funny. The trailer was funny. The girls in the movie are funny. They're really decent actors. But this movie was destroyed in the press. I've never seen the finish piece, but it's hard to conclude anything that I saw as coming in under 20% on Rotten Tomatoes. So, I don't know. But the producer knew. And word of mouth knew.

Why is it that we collectively feel we understand when a movie is going to be good? I worked on "Trainwreck" as well. And it was a solid hit. I saw it in theaters and a little confused as to what everyone else saw, in terms of glowing about Amy Schumer. She was fine. But it wasn't anything past her stand-up act. Then I was at the screening of "Saw" back in 2004, and I thought it was totally stupid and cheap looking. What did the producers on that see?

I can't imagine spending some much time, energy or money to have a producer tell me that my movie sucks. It's just a massive pile, and that we'd be lucky to break even. That's when the real fingerpointing happens. And the people who are really responsible, walk away relatively unscathed. It's a weird business.

Ashley Judd, Sexism In Hollywood

Her statements about this are pretty much laughable. It's the "No shit Sherlock" feel you get when you hear about the creeping that a movie mogul used his influence to leverage sexual advances to a pretty actress. Not to say it's right, but here are two things to consider. Name the fucking guy who did this. My guess is that that dude is dead. I think I know who it is. The only one I can think of at the time would be David Brown as she mentioned a few Paramount Pictures titles. He was head of them then. Guy had a lot of power then. Dead now.

The other thing is...don't deal with the devil if the devil deals you deals. This movie business sucks for everyone. It's no secret half the people would do dirty deeds to get done a devil's deal. You just happen to not be one of those people. Move on. Let someone who has less dignity deal with it. Homosexuals permeate through this industry. If I ever felt uncomfortable with the homosexual group in this business, I'd bolt. I wouldn't go into a gay situation to get a job, gain fame and fortune and then later on bemoan that I did favors for favors. That's on me.

The other thing is that I find funny, if money is your thing. Can you imagine a person from a fourth world country coming to America and asking about that?
"SO, you have sex with an old limp dick to get hundreds of thousands of dollars?"

"Yeah, I'm so sick of being treated like trash!"
"Lady, I just shat my body weight into a barrel that use to hold the rice from a Red Cross drop! Where do I start suckin'?"

If money's your thing.

Schmaltz

“What kinda’ movies do you make?”

I dipped my head, unable to fully explain “I think I make schmaltzy ones. The ones that end a little corny.” I expected her to ask what that was. Instead “I like schmaltz.”

“You do?” equal parts surprised and happy.

“Sure, schmaltzy movies end the way I want them to.”

It dawned on me that I grew up liking schmaltz. In Yiddish “schmaltz” is rendered animal fat. It’s gross stuff. In movies, they’re stories that end up with a happy ending that chokes you up. Swelled sentiment. Schmaltz isn’t realistic. It’s hopeful. For which, as a cynic, is death. But it is unrepentantly romantic. Here’s the thing…we all are going to die one day. I think people do enjoy schmaltzy movies because they distract you from the inevitable. Schmaltz says that a nebbish can eventually end up with the hot model with a heart of gold. That a line like “love means never having to say you’re sorry” means something. That people ride off into the sunset arm in arm and tomorrow will be a better day. Why not? It’s being hopeful. That we all deserve happiness. And love. It’s that isn’t a bad thing. Considering the reality is that things do end. And most likely end tragically.

I think this type of movie tells people that we don’t all have to live in tragedy (as we already do). In my thesis movie case, it would’ve been better had I ended it in the schmaltziest of terms. The story being a grandson who finds his grandfather to live with him, despite his other option of being left at an orphanage. HIGH SCHMALTZ. The reality being much darker. Even legendary cynic director Billy Wilder had his moments of schmaltz. Especially in my favorite movie of all time “The Apartment.” It essentially ends at the perfect moment of schmaltziness.  Why not? It makes us feel good. It makes us look at the person next to us and not be so bitter or angry. The point is, our lives do have schmaltzy moments. I think the older we get, the less we want to show that side. Or accept it. The “I love you’s” in the face of adversity. To audiences, they hate themselves for liking it. But still are moved by it. Some think it’s an easy manipulation. Feh! I say. I now believe, if you can get away with it, inject your movie with as much good vibes as possible. And end it on an upswing. Too many of us are dark and brooding and miserable storytellers. Be the one that shows the rainbows and unicorns, after they’ve been dragged through the mud. Or rendered animal fat.

John List: The Bogeyman Of Westfield, New Jersey

John List is a coward and an idiot. He murdered his entire family including his mother because why?...apparently his obsessive compulsive mind compelled him to.

Don't get me wrong, he is also an extremely scary person. Considering after murdering five people, he sat down for a meal, as he did in the military. And felt for once a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

He dodged law for 17 years before a neighbor had spotted him on "America's Most Wanted" to which he calmly went with authorities and eventually was thrown in prison, for which will be the rest of his life. What makes John List REALLY scary is that his situation isn't that far off from the normalcy of domestic life. In his mind, he was bullied into starting a family, with a overbearing mother and wife. There are jokes batted about between married folk how it would be like a boulder off one's shoulders to leave them all and start new (by the way, it's no surprise to horror movie fans List was one of the inspirations for "The Stepfather" played pitch perfect by Terry O'Quinn).

As List was incarcerated, he simply felt nothing for the people he murdered. And that prison was actually a relief from the rest of the world, for which he felt (ironically) was harsh. In the wake of all the recent shootings...I'm not so sure he's wrong.

The Mysterious Tale of Jodi Huisentruit

In the early morning of June 27, 1995, 27 year old Jodi Huisentruit went missing. She got a call from her co-worker that she was running late. In her drowsy conversation, Jodi apologized and rushed to get to the office. That was the last anyone heard from her.

She was an tv news anchor for a small t.v. station in Iowa. It's been over 20 years now and still no sign of her whereabouts. She was pronounced dead in 2001. This story is frightening in that it was more than likely the man she'd reported stalking her prior to her disappearance had did this. The fact there are no real substantial clues to her missing is even more alarming, considering she's such a public figure. There was a struggle outside of her car, and a trail of her bag that contained her news gear.

Yeah, there were crazy folk calling in "tips" such as she was abducted by some shiek in some foreign land for human trafficking and so forth. But...how can anyone just...vanish? Even more scary, the person who did this hasn't been caught.

This isn't just a one time deal either. You start to realize how an obsessive person could go to great lengths to perform this act, isn't going to just end when the object of their affection is obtained. The reason this makes it a perfect disappearance is that it was:
a rural town
Jodi had friends but no real boyfriends
a mother, but no father (he'd died years earlier)
not married
lived alone
suspects were anyone in the area with a television

There just wasn't an angle there to go on. Just...disappeared.

I use to think that crimes are eventually solved. I guess, to be fair, crimes in a small town. Everyone knows everyone. I would say, that a killer walks among them now. A big city crime doesn't sit well with trusting mid-westerners with confusion as to how this could transpire. Worst, that it hasn't been solved. For some reason, it seems more...appropriate in a city of millions that one falls through the cracks. Not one with the population that couldn't fill a football stadium.

Delusional Desire Of Movie Makin'

I talked to an old friend about their short film recently. She'd mentioned that whenever I spoke of making movies, I didn't sound as passionately about it as other things in my life, like photography. The same could be said of her. Though she never studied the craft...anyone with a camera I suppose. My biggest gripe about movie making these days is the lack of craft. No one cares. Nor do they really go to lengths to learn. A lot of that could be because we don't have our heroes we look up to anymore. Our new generation isn't about holding talented craftsmen in reverence it's the attitude that they can do better...out of the gate. The arrogance is perplexing.

So here we are, in the social media world, constantly validating our garbage we can shoot on an iPhone and calling it art. Use to be this was reserved just for the serious "artist" now...everyone calls themselves that, and are shouted down if they're challenged. I recall being in undergrad art program being called out for my shitty art, and me feeling that they may have a point. That DOESN'T mean I didn't have the talent, or confidence. Some people believe if you ricochet off some criticism this is giving into negativity. Quite the opposite, you're discovering what you could be good at.

A great deal of being able to make art the way you'd like to make it, is to have a track record. Something that proves you have the ability. Or at least the resources. I think that's why I'm enamored with insane people who go into their movies with gusto. They never get sidetracked with things like...common sense. They certainly don't see the consequences of their action. And in a sense, you do have to have some form of mental illness to ignore all these and still tell your story. A younger person embraces this reckless behavior and is seldom rewarded for it. The older person weighs the options. Too bad for them though, since decisions that lack common sense go to the instinct and not to the intellect. The intellect understands the stupidity of action. Instinct ignores it. Or more accurately pushes it aside, since it's too intrusive.

One thing that creates this delusion, is the lack of perspective. I'd ask if her project had any turmoil which caused he to question her decision to want to direct in the future. She paused. Then glowingly rattled off all the wonderful contributions of good people. Then she went silent again. Except one person. When pressed, she shared with me the nightmare scenario in detail of the pain and anguish this one bad egg had on her project. After hearing this actresses behavior, to which I'd been familiar with, I simply said "she sounds pretty bad, but she isn't the worst you'll deal with." To which (and here is where we're deluded as storytellers) she defended "No. But next time I'll get to choose everyone I work with. I didn't cast her, I didn't like her and was bad from the beginning." Does this sound like something you'd like to gamble on. The likelihood you will deal with this is far greater than not. The professionals who do do this for a living have the capacity and workload in the near future to not be prima donnas. The rest are fiery opinionated dolts who don't share your vision, don't care, or more than likely just dumb. Now that may sound like I'm being completely negative to the entire production process. And more so negative towards someone's "dream" but we're talking about collaboration here. If someone like that is willing to jeopardize all you did to make this come together, without a shred of empathy for your situation, this isn't a I-choose-thee scenario, it's a reluctant battle with soldiers you have to motivate properly. I've told her I'd lucky enough to never encounter complete derailing insane people, but as a shooter...have seen some bad situations where a minor character takes over a production. For no other reason than they know (on a low budget) they have no other options.

So my question to her was...why subject yourself to this? A person who I believed to be kind hearted and a pacifist, driven to want to pummel a difficult person in the face. There is for sure a stubborn-ness ot people that is unexplained. I mean, why do I insist on shooting on film? Would it make my life easier if I just go digital and say fuck it? Probably. But here I am planning to shoot my next one on film again. Would anyone ever say this was a passion of mine? The answer to that may be to feel passion for the craft. It's something that is so removed from the "new generation." Even talking to my friend, she became hands off once the movie was shot. I recall being in undergrad upstairs in the attic of University Hall, a dark storage room with cluttered broken equipment. I pieced together a flatbed film editor from parts to make my short movie. 1/8" audio transferred to mag stock and synced it on a four gang synchronizer with a grease pencil, cold pizza and Coca-Cola, smoking Camel wides. I truly miss those pirate days.