To follow is a blog post written a couple of years ago. I’m posting it now to complete this series of posts. At the time, I didn’t know if the movie was going to be a hit or not. Like the vast majority, it wasn’t and posting about it faded as an interest for me.
When I left for Chattanooga to do the movie, I told people that I was going to a ‘job interview’, most people around here still don’t know that I worked as a ‘background extra’ on a feature film. It wasn’t the first time I had been in or worked on a film, since I used to be the Film Commissioner in Dayton, Ohio.
The experience was important, since it gave me insight on how the common man and woman reacts to being in or around ‘stars’ or people perceived to be of social importance or status. It’s fascinating to watch people modify their behavior, adapting to the circumstances of the moment. The star can act pretty funny, too.
On location in Chattanooga.
From breakfast, I went over to the wardrobe people. The men had been told to wear 'plain white dress shirt, dark dress pants, black or dark blue tie and lace up shoes'. They also wanted us to bring overcoats. This led to a quandary for me. In the past few decades, I've usually worn leather biker jackets, since that's the preferred gear when riding a motorcycle. When it came to business, I've got an almost antique trench coat to go over my business suit. Buried deep in the closet was something from out of the past, a cashmere overcoat. Hadn't worn it in years, but women love it.. .it's dark blue, didn't look or smell like it had died, so I took it with me. The only things I forgot was a scarf and gloves. No hat either, but they would fix me up in wardrobe. Like I would have a Fedora lying around the house. Cowboy hats, ball caps, watch caps, motorcycle helmets, an old ‘Civil Defense’ helmet, but no Fedora. I am so unstylish.
First thing the wardrobe folks did was take one look at the cashmere coat and pitch it. I was given some checked, beige-green wool thing, scarf, gloves and a hat. The gloves were a bit tight, as in too small. Not like I would need them, it was about 65 degrees on the set! It was going to be interesting, shooting a winter scene on an unusually warm spring day. It's the movies, they can fake the cold, right?
The tempo started to pick up around the set. Men were sent to their dressing room, which was a tent, as were the ladies. People were told to dispose of their cellphones, briefcases, unnecessary coats, etc. get ready to get on the train. It was already pushing towards 10 AM and we were about to lose our first background extra. One of the local wheeler-dealers was having a hard time getting separated from his cellphone. He was micro-managing his office from the set, got flustered, decided that they weren't going to shoot the movie on his timetable. So, he walked. Took his paperwork out of his briefcase, handed it to the casting agent, gave wardrobe back their clothes and headed for the office. Only thing he kept was his haircut. Now, he'll never be able to brag about being in a feature film. I'm sure his office workers are disappointed too. They probably would have enjoyed a day without his forced march attitude.
We all trooped out into the sunshine. Ladies transformed into wives, flappers and gun molls of the twenties, men looking like dissipated business men or flat-cap wearing college boys. We clustered around the tents, mugging and doing bad gangster imitations. Which may have led to the second loss from our ranks. One of the young ladies, flapper-type, evidently did a near swan-dive. Maybe she got too close to the Star as he moved through the area? It was a matter of conjecture for the rest of the day. She was immediately cared for by the medical crew, who insisted on hauling her to the hospital. You are not allowed to either faint or die on the set! Another poor soul with fame snatched from her grasp. The inhumanity of it all!
A production assistant came around and started the herding process, driving us like so many sheep, cattle, chattel? towards the train cars. We were picked over, sorted, graded and sent to our doom. Directed towards seats, shuffled, then moved again. I was pointed to a seat next to a window, a large 'X' on it. The train’s wooden benches faced each other. There were three other men sitting on the benches, we barely had time to introduce ourselves. Another PA came by and told us that the Star would come down the aisle, lean over and look out the window.
Since I was sitting next to the window, I nearly fell out of my seat. This meant that there was about a 50/50 chance that I would be in the shot with him!.
That's when another PA came by, told me to get up and move, I had the wrong type of hat, they wanted 'flat caps' in the seats. I was directed to another car. Here, they paired me with a lovely woman.
I was now ‘playing the part’ of a couple. Virginia didn't seem to mind that she had been stuck with me. We were placed in the center section of the train car, facing each other, both of us sitting next to the windows. The PA told us to fake conversation, lean towards each other, make hand gestures. The typical, "I'm interested in what you have to say" kind of stuff.
We did the, 'where you from, how did you get here' thing. After all, we were going to be on this train together for a few hours, might as well make it bearable. It went beyond that, it was great. Virginia loves motorcycles, traveling and movies. We talked about everything.
One of the PA's told us to be quiet and nodded towards the front of the train.
Suddenly, everyone in the train car got quiet. The Star had appeared. As director, writer and star of the movie, he wanted us to know exactly what we were going to be doing. At least, that's what I think he wanted to tell us.
As he talked, people around us looked over, shrugging, mouthing the words; "Can you hear him?"
I yelled "Speak up!" but he was almost done.
A PA gave me their version of a dirty look. I glanced around, nobody had understood a thing The Star had said, a trainload of blank faces.
Virginia shrugged, shook her head when I asked if she heard what the Star had said. Nope, it was all a mumble to me and everyone that I talked to later.
Perhaps he should do more stage work, learn to project his voice.
Filming was about to begin.
Showing posts with label comedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comedy. Show all posts
Monday, June 7, 2010
Friday, August 1, 2008
DEATH, World's Biggest Seller!
You want in on a little secret?
Invest in death.
That's right, you can't lose. It's always a money-making proposition. No matter what form you choose. Let's look at your options!
War
A perennial favorite! Thousands of years of excellent return on investment. Billions dead prove that this can't be beat for overall cost-effective management. Ask a politician, military leader or defense contractor today about investment opportunities!
Entertainment
Can't bring yourself to face the real deal? That's OK! We can pretend, just like kids playing 'grownup'. Books, TV, movies, video games, you name it, we got it! Death in a thousand ways, performed in slow motion, multi-angle, digitally enhanced, anywhere on earth or in space. There's no limit!
Sports
It's the next best thing to warfare! Plot, plan, execute your strategy. Win at all costs! Drugs? Cheating? It's all expected, as long as it's not detected by the 'officials'. Pay-offs not included.
Economic
That's right, the one most people never consider. That slow, excruciating crush of fiscal collapse. Watching as every last penny is squeezed to keep a roof overhead and food in the mouth. As seen on TV!
Environmental
Conspicuous consumption? Can't get enough of it? You gotta have something to put in them landfills! Why worry about killing off the planet, you won't be around to clean up the mess anyway! Leave it for the next generation, the lazy slackers!
That's just the tip of the iceberg! Ask the people on the "Titanic" about that!
It's the one thing that everyone has to deal with, so let's make money on it!
Death.
It's not funny, but it sure is final!
Give your money to someone else today.
After all, you can't take it with you!
Invest in death.
That's right, you can't lose. It's always a money-making proposition. No matter what form you choose. Let's look at your options!
War
A perennial favorite! Thousands of years of excellent return on investment. Billions dead prove that this can't be beat for overall cost-effective management. Ask a politician, military leader or defense contractor today about investment opportunities!
Entertainment
Can't bring yourself to face the real deal? That's OK! We can pretend, just like kids playing 'grownup'. Books, TV, movies, video games, you name it, we got it! Death in a thousand ways, performed in slow motion, multi-angle, digitally enhanced, anywhere on earth or in space. There's no limit!
Sports
It's the next best thing to warfare! Plot, plan, execute your strategy. Win at all costs! Drugs? Cheating? It's all expected, as long as it's not detected by the 'officials'. Pay-offs not included.
Economic
That's right, the one most people never consider. That slow, excruciating crush of fiscal collapse. Watching as every last penny is squeezed to keep a roof overhead and food in the mouth. As seen on TV!
Environmental
Conspicuous consumption? Can't get enough of it? You gotta have something to put in them landfills! Why worry about killing off the planet, you won't be around to clean up the mess anyway! Leave it for the next generation, the lazy slackers!
That's just the tip of the iceberg! Ask the people on the "Titanic" about that!
It's the one thing that everyone has to deal with, so let's make money on it!
Death.
It's not funny, but it sure is final!
Give your money to someone else today.
After all, you can't take it with you!
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Hollywood, Lawyers, The Office and Me
A friend in Hollywood suggested, months ago, that I write about my efforts to 'get to Hollywood'. Which is interesting in and of itself, since I've been out to LA five times now. They weren't vacations, each time I went was due to the Biz, or as it's known to the rest of the world, Hollywood and the movies.
The first time was due to an agent. He told me that my screenplay 'has potential', wanted to meet with me. This was before the internet and cellphones were common. You called people long distance, sent a letter or went and met them. Doing what any normal, level-headed person would do, I quit my job and drove to the West Coast. Yes, I used capital letters, it's a nation unto itself.
You want the grimy details on that trip, it's covered in my book, "Going Dutch, Trials of a Wage Slave". Let's just say that the agent and I weren't a good match and leave it at that.
I won't bore you with the details of the other trips. A couple were for a film commission that I worked with in Ohio. The last two were for screenwriter conferences and meetings. You have to stay up to speed, even if you live in the hills of Tennessee, if you want to get your movie made.
Even here, we have Hollywood come to visit. I've attended the Nashville Screenwriters Conference and got some great advice. One of the lawyers that flew in from New York gave the definitive breakdown on the writer hierarchy. Let me give you the short list.
1) Playwrights
2) Novelists
3) Screenwriters
Playwrights have almost total control, right down to the sets and director. Novelists work with an editor, who usually has notes on the work in progress. Screenwriters get to hear from everyone, the director, the producer, the actors, the studio suits, ad infinum. Guess which writer has the most power?
Which is why I have gone back to writing novels. I would like to write a play, but that would mean having to stage it. Rather difficult here, there aren't too many theaters around and the local high school productions are a bit reserved. Don't expect to see "Oh, Calcutta" or "Hair" being done down at the local school anytime soon.
As for the screenplays. I still write them. I still send them out. Some are being rewritten as novels. I don't give up on projects. Why should I, after all the work that has gone into them.
When I wrote "Going Dutch, Trials of a Wage Slave", it was before "The Office" became a big hit in the USA. My work in different industries and my last corporate job were pretty funny situations. They were both hilarious and funny strange.
Funny strange due to the office politics and power plays by different people and groups in the companies. In time, I have displaced the anger that I felt during the game playing with humor. Reflecting on the efforts of some of the non-performers, who were just scared people trying to do what they could to keep their jobs. Right up to and including lies, rumors, innuendo and conspiracy. As seen on TV!
You have to wonder about people who go home from work to watch TV about people at work in an office. TV used to be all game shows, historical shows and sitcoms. The reality stuff is almost a farce. Which is probably one of the most accurate reflections of our current society.
I now have added 'blogger' to my repertoire. Which is almost as effective as standing on the front porch, talking into the wind. You get the words out, but you really have to wonder if anyone is listening to you. Does George Bush do this at the White House?
One of my next posts will be about another one of my efforts to 'get to Hollywood'. In this case, I was cast as a 'background extra' on a feature film. Part of it was shot in Tennessee.
The film's out now. I haven't been to see it. Don't know if it's going to make the local theater or not. They only play one movie a week. Talk about a 'one horse town'.
Which means that I can always wait until in comes out on DVD. If they still make DVDs.
There is more than one way to 'get to Hollywood'.
The main thing is that you do it your way.
The first time was due to an agent. He told me that my screenplay 'has potential', wanted to meet with me. This was before the internet and cellphones were common. You called people long distance, sent a letter or went and met them. Doing what any normal, level-headed person would do, I quit my job and drove to the West Coast. Yes, I used capital letters, it's a nation unto itself.
You want the grimy details on that trip, it's covered in my book, "Going Dutch, Trials of a Wage Slave". Let's just say that the agent and I weren't a good match and leave it at that.
I won't bore you with the details of the other trips. A couple were for a film commission that I worked with in Ohio. The last two were for screenwriter conferences and meetings. You have to stay up to speed, even if you live in the hills of Tennessee, if you want to get your movie made.
Even here, we have Hollywood come to visit. I've attended the Nashville Screenwriters Conference and got some great advice. One of the lawyers that flew in from New York gave the definitive breakdown on the writer hierarchy. Let me give you the short list.
1) Playwrights
2) Novelists
3) Screenwriters
Playwrights have almost total control, right down to the sets and director. Novelists work with an editor, who usually has notes on the work in progress. Screenwriters get to hear from everyone, the director, the producer, the actors, the studio suits, ad infinum. Guess which writer has the most power?
Which is why I have gone back to writing novels. I would like to write a play, but that would mean having to stage it. Rather difficult here, there aren't too many theaters around and the local high school productions are a bit reserved. Don't expect to see "Oh, Calcutta" or "Hair" being done down at the local school anytime soon.
As for the screenplays. I still write them. I still send them out. Some are being rewritten as novels. I don't give up on projects. Why should I, after all the work that has gone into them.
When I wrote "Going Dutch, Trials of a Wage Slave", it was before "The Office" became a big hit in the USA. My work in different industries and my last corporate job were pretty funny situations. They were both hilarious and funny strange.
Funny strange due to the office politics and power plays by different people and groups in the companies. In time, I have displaced the anger that I felt during the game playing with humor. Reflecting on the efforts of some of the non-performers, who were just scared people trying to do what they could to keep their jobs. Right up to and including lies, rumors, innuendo and conspiracy. As seen on TV!
You have to wonder about people who go home from work to watch TV about people at work in an office. TV used to be all game shows, historical shows and sitcoms. The reality stuff is almost a farce. Which is probably one of the most accurate reflections of our current society.
I now have added 'blogger' to my repertoire. Which is almost as effective as standing on the front porch, talking into the wind. You get the words out, but you really have to wonder if anyone is listening to you. Does George Bush do this at the White House?
One of my next posts will be about another one of my efforts to 'get to Hollywood'. In this case, I was cast as a 'background extra' on a feature film. Part of it was shot in Tennessee.
The film's out now. I haven't been to see it. Don't know if it's going to make the local theater or not. They only play one movie a week. Talk about a 'one horse town'.
Which means that I can always wait until in comes out on DVD. If they still make DVDs.
There is more than one way to 'get to Hollywood'.
The main thing is that you do it your way.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
The Rise of Bollywood, China and Hollywood North
As the sun goes down over Sunset Boulevard, you can hear dreams crashing like bumpercar BMWs, as if driven by writers off their meds. It’s a sad day in the city of Tinsel, as scribes wander the streets wailing for residuals. The WGA has voted, will it be much ado about nothing or the final strike-out?
While those of us who have written, but not been bought, stand back and contemplate. Can we now get a shot at the big time? Don’t hold your breath, I’m not. We live in the land of litigation. Look at me wrong and I’ll sue you down the river of debt.
No, there will be few scabs, even if the writers have to get out of their cars and walk the picket lines. If they’re smart they’ll get a rent-a-picket, someone who actually can be physically intimidating to a line-crosser. How far will they have to travel to stop writers who can work off-scene, away from LA, somewhere across the digital divide?
A while back, I presented a screenplay logline to a couple of hundred writers during a seminar held at a major studio. It was about outsourcing jobs around the world. The Important Hollywood Scribe/Director/Producer in charge of the seminar had a simple critique for my screenplay. He didn’t know what the word ‘outsourcing’ meant! Therefore, my screenplay wouldn't sell. The Hollywood crowd and the WGA will get to find out what the rest of American society has known for years. It’s outsourcing time in the city!
The easy way out for producers and studios alike will be to go East and head North. Bollywood might not have the same cultural excesses as it’s namesake, but the producers will just write in the extra sex, drugs and gratuitous violence. Then there are our neighbors to the north. Vancouver will be glad to shoot more movies, TV shows and documentaries for those in need. Montreal can give it a leetle French flair, mon ami. Did I mention all those studios in China? We love our globalization.
Don’t hold your breath WGA. This might be the start of something big. After all, one of Hollywood’s own started all of this, back when he broke up the Professional Air Traffic Controllers Organization (PATCO). You might remember him, he was the president of the Screen Actors Guild, before he took up residence in the big, white house on Pennsylvania Avenue. Which led to fuzzy math economics. Kinda like those figures you hear concerning residuals, new media, digital revenue, etc. It could be a ‘trickle down’ type of contract. Moguls, keep your genitalia away from that zipper!
I better check my passport. Can the WGA sue me if I work as a writer in China and get paid through a bank in Switzerland, while claiming residence in Australia?
While those of us who have written, but not been bought, stand back and contemplate. Can we now get a shot at the big time? Don’t hold your breath, I’m not. We live in the land of litigation. Look at me wrong and I’ll sue you down the river of debt.
No, there will be few scabs, even if the writers have to get out of their cars and walk the picket lines. If they’re smart they’ll get a rent-a-picket, someone who actually can be physically intimidating to a line-crosser. How far will they have to travel to stop writers who can work off-scene, away from LA, somewhere across the digital divide?
A while back, I presented a screenplay logline to a couple of hundred writers during a seminar held at a major studio. It was about outsourcing jobs around the world. The Important Hollywood Scribe/Director/Producer in charge of the seminar had a simple critique for my screenplay. He didn’t know what the word ‘outsourcing’ meant! Therefore, my screenplay wouldn't sell. The Hollywood crowd and the WGA will get to find out what the rest of American society has known for years. It’s outsourcing time in the city!
The easy way out for producers and studios alike will be to go East and head North. Bollywood might not have the same cultural excesses as it’s namesake, but the producers will just write in the extra sex, drugs and gratuitous violence. Then there are our neighbors to the north. Vancouver will be glad to shoot more movies, TV shows and documentaries for those in need. Montreal can give it a leetle French flair, mon ami. Did I mention all those studios in China? We love our globalization.
Don’t hold your breath WGA. This might be the start of something big. After all, one of Hollywood’s own started all of this, back when he broke up the Professional Air Traffic Controllers Organization (PATCO). You might remember him, he was the president of the Screen Actors Guild, before he took up residence in the big, white house on Pennsylvania Avenue. Which led to fuzzy math economics. Kinda like those figures you hear concerning residuals, new media, digital revenue, etc. It could be a ‘trickle down’ type of contract. Moguls, keep your genitalia away from that zipper!
I better check my passport. Can the WGA sue me if I work as a writer in China and get paid through a bank in Switzerland, while claiming residence in Australia?
How To Succeed in the Biz Without Using Your Genitalia
It’s always interesting, hearing about how people become an ‘overnight’ success. After eight to ten years, if not a couple of decades, of slogging away in the trenches, they are suddenly ‘discovered’ by the rest of the world. Their star ascends into the celebrity sky and shines bright as it establishes itself. Sometimes, without sleeping with anyone important.
These entities are then imbued with special powers by the masses or maybe just the media hounds. Able to discern the future, pick political leaders, make fashion statements and expose their genitalia, they are supreme in their own estimation, ego-powered beyond the output of any nuclear power plant. Able to light up entire tabloids with their mega-watt smiles. Unless they’re raging at the paparazzi.
The burn-out rate is determined by the self-love factor. The more headlines they seek, the faster they turn to burnt toast. Slow roasted by the fast bored public. A side trip to the pokey or the rehabarama can either be image enhancing or the end of the story. An event usually induced by drugs, sex, driving or guns. Maybe a toxic combination of all of the above. Having drugged sex while driving with guns…there’s a headline!
Probably the only safe way to success in the Biz and maintain it, is to be professional, do your job, keep your mouth shut about your love affairs and never, ever, show off your crotch, whether male or female, to anyone who isn’t your love slave. Get a non-disclosure agreement in writing before you head to bed. A pre-dip pre-nup.
Even if you’re some college girl wanting to be the Phelgm Queen or maybe get into a men’s magazine, one way or another, it can come back to haunt you in the end. Especially if you get the large version of the butterfly tattoo. Which, with old age, will look more like crumpled wall paper than a nymphalis californica. Has anyone told you how it will feel if you have to get a body scan at the hospital? Burn baby burn.
As for the men who think that their manhood can’t be beat, beware. The old race track adage applies, there’s always someone out there with more cubic inches. No matter the chemical or physical enhancements methods you might use to stroke your joke. Sometimes it more about quality, then quantity. Try harder, think like you’re number two.
Otherwise, you could always just fake it. Emote that talent thing all the way to the bank or into the ditch. If you hook up with the right people, even the talent challenged can rise to the top. You might even get to be president. Just don’t ask me to write about it.
These entities are then imbued with special powers by the masses or maybe just the media hounds. Able to discern the future, pick political leaders, make fashion statements and expose their genitalia, they are supreme in their own estimation, ego-powered beyond the output of any nuclear power plant. Able to light up entire tabloids with their mega-watt smiles. Unless they’re raging at the paparazzi.
The burn-out rate is determined by the self-love factor. The more headlines they seek, the faster they turn to burnt toast. Slow roasted by the fast bored public. A side trip to the pokey or the rehabarama can either be image enhancing or the end of the story. An event usually induced by drugs, sex, driving or guns. Maybe a toxic combination of all of the above. Having drugged sex while driving with guns…there’s a headline!
Probably the only safe way to success in the Biz and maintain it, is to be professional, do your job, keep your mouth shut about your love affairs and never, ever, show off your crotch, whether male or female, to anyone who isn’t your love slave. Get a non-disclosure agreement in writing before you head to bed. A pre-dip pre-nup.
Even if you’re some college girl wanting to be the Phelgm Queen or maybe get into a men’s magazine, one way or another, it can come back to haunt you in the end. Especially if you get the large version of the butterfly tattoo. Which, with old age, will look more like crumpled wall paper than a nymphalis californica. Has anyone told you how it will feel if you have to get a body scan at the hospital? Burn baby burn.
As for the men who think that their manhood can’t be beat, beware. The old race track adage applies, there’s always someone out there with more cubic inches. No matter the chemical or physical enhancements methods you might use to stroke your joke. Sometimes it more about quality, then quantity. Try harder, think like you’re number two.
Otherwise, you could always just fake it. Emote that talent thing all the way to the bank or into the ditch. If you hook up with the right people, even the talent challenged can rise to the top. You might even get to be president. Just don’t ask me to write about it.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
The World's Next Great Comedian
I had the privilege of meeting the World's Next Great Comedian this past week. Since I am not at liberty to divulge their name, I'll refer to them in this post at the WNGC.
This person showed up down here last week, ostensibly to 'get advice' from one of their relatives. When a person is seeking 'advice' it can mean a different things; like they really want to know an experienced person's point of view, they need money or a place to crash. Maybe it's all three.
You don't just catch the next subway, train, bus or plane to get to where I live. Let's just say that I'm so far out in the sticks that I can get one TV station without satellite, which I don't have, there is no cable hookup and I can't even get a decent Internet setup through the phone company, it's all low-tech dial-up. The closest China-Mart is about 17 miles away, which is where the local Fast Grease Food emporiums are located. To even get a gallon of gas or a quart of milk is a journey of about four miles. I love it! If someone wants to visit they have to make a serious effort. It weeds out the drop-in visitors big time. Not to mention the know-it-all relatives.
When the WNGC showed up, my neighbors were just expecting a quiet, Sunday afternoon visit. You know, coffee and some sticky-sap cinnamon buns while catching up on the relatives.
I had been invited to stop by for supper earlier in the day, but told them I wasn't feeling well. She's a good cook and it would be a break from my basic chow. I'd call before I drove over.
Which is a good thing that I did. It was the old, "We got some unexpected company. Why don't y'all come on down and I'll fix you a plate. Just come on in the back." Translation for Yankees and Coastals; 'One of our leech-sponge relatives is here, I'll give you a doggie bag to go. Stop in at the back door, they're all on the front porch.'
I get in Little Redneck, the farm's small pickup truck and rattle over to their house. Things are a bit spread out around here. My closest neighbor lives across the street and it's 100 yards between the houses. These folks are my next nearest neighbors and they're almost a half mile away. It's a nice walk, but you don't do it with stray dogs, hungry coyotes and random snakes between here and there. At least not when you're carrying food.
Imagine my surprise when I walk up to the back porch and everyone is in the family room/kitchen. Time to face the relatives. Introductions are made and I get to meet the WNGC and their mate. The WNGC starts off by telling that they are the FUNNIEST PERSON I HAVE EVER MET. Really? I didn't know that I had led such a sheltered life. The pleasantries begin.
WNGC wants advice. Has heard that I've actually been to Hollywood and New York City. What should they do about their upcoming recording session? Huh? Seems that they have talked a producer into a recording session.
"You got a contract, right?"
WNGC, "Uh, no."
"How about an agent or lawyer?"
"I haven't talked to one."
"How long you been doing comedy clubs?"
"Never done any, don't need to. I just do stuff on tape."
"What are you going to do when it comes time to go on the road. All comedians, sooner or later, have to go on the road."
"I'm not going on the road, I'm not leaving Memphis!"
Then WNGC wants me to listen to their screamingly funny comedy tape. I get to hear about ten minutes of it. Out of five jokes, one is not too bad. I ask them how many they've got. They claim to have "two tapes worth". How about copyright? Never done it, doesn't need to.
"Everything is all in my head".
No kidding?
Welcome to fantasy island, backwoods style.
I have copies of different contracts from a screenwriters conference that I attended a few years back. Since it now turns out that the WNGC will be staying for a few days, "to continue getting advice" I volunteer to give them a copy of a contract to review.
Then were spoken those words everyone loves to hear.
"I'm gonna be here a few days, just to be able to do my work."
Huh?
In this county there are about 10 bars, all serving beer, you can't buy liquor and there aren't any comedy clubs. I doubt that the material I heard on the tape would be played in one of the 117 churches we have for our 10,000 residents. Let's say that this is serious Bible belt country.
You can't imagine how overjoyed I was to hear the next comment.
"If you aren't busy in the next couple of days, I'd like to talk to you about my work."
Didn't we just do that?
After all, I was just sitting around, waiting for you to show up. I'm working on a book, rewriting a business plan, maintaining a 300 acre farm and restoring an old car. My days are a minimum of 16 hours long, every day of the week. Lots of spare time. Which is spent looking at the back of my eyelids.
I had just spent the last hour and a half with this person, explaining what little I know about the entertainment business. They had proceeded to tell me that none of it applied to them.
You don't need to do any work, just show up at the recording studio.
Why worry about a contract, the producer is going to pay me, right?
Hey, I wrote this stuff, so nobody can use it but me. If they do, they have to pay me.
Why write anything down, I can remember it all in my head!
This is all being said while the WNGC is drinking shots of Uncle's whiskey and sipping beer to chase it. Then complaining to Uncle about the "...cheap rotgut that you drink, can't you buy better booze?"
After that I excused myself, took the doggie bag and headed out the back door.
WNGC got the copy of the contract the next day. I got the "Yeah, it doesn't matter." speech. Probably right, it's just words on paper. When this happened, I realized that this was more than a waste of time. There was work in the barn to be done, so I went there next.
Rerun everything I wrote above, just change the setting to the tractor shed where I repair the farm equipment. This happened everyday for the next three days. How many times can you tell someone the same thing? I tried the allegory method, the personal example, etc.
It's like hammering on a large piece of steel with a wooden stick. You exert your energy, but nothing changes. OK, the stick will flatten out and eventually splinter. Like my reserve.
I finally had to say those magic words.
"I don't know what to tell you."
When a person knows more than you do about a situation, just give it over to them. You might have all the experience in the world, but they are going to make their mistakes, no matter what you tell them. Save yourself the time and effort.
Wish them the best.
Then go on with your work.
This person showed up down here last week, ostensibly to 'get advice' from one of their relatives. When a person is seeking 'advice' it can mean a different things; like they really want to know an experienced person's point of view, they need money or a place to crash. Maybe it's all three.
You don't just catch the next subway, train, bus or plane to get to where I live. Let's just say that I'm so far out in the sticks that I can get one TV station without satellite, which I don't have, there is no cable hookup and I can't even get a decent Internet setup through the phone company, it's all low-tech dial-up. The closest China-Mart is about 17 miles away, which is where the local Fast Grease Food emporiums are located. To even get a gallon of gas or a quart of milk is a journey of about four miles. I love it! If someone wants to visit they have to make a serious effort. It weeds out the drop-in visitors big time. Not to mention the know-it-all relatives.
When the WNGC showed up, my neighbors were just expecting a quiet, Sunday afternoon visit. You know, coffee and some sticky-sap cinnamon buns while catching up on the relatives.
I had been invited to stop by for supper earlier in the day, but told them I wasn't feeling well. She's a good cook and it would be a break from my basic chow. I'd call before I drove over.
Which is a good thing that I did. It was the old, "We got some unexpected company. Why don't y'all come on down and I'll fix you a plate. Just come on in the back." Translation for Yankees and Coastals; 'One of our leech-sponge relatives is here, I'll give you a doggie bag to go. Stop in at the back door, they're all on the front porch.'
I get in Little Redneck, the farm's small pickup truck and rattle over to their house. Things are a bit spread out around here. My closest neighbor lives across the street and it's 100 yards between the houses. These folks are my next nearest neighbors and they're almost a half mile away. It's a nice walk, but you don't do it with stray dogs, hungry coyotes and random snakes between here and there. At least not when you're carrying food.
Imagine my surprise when I walk up to the back porch and everyone is in the family room/kitchen. Time to face the relatives. Introductions are made and I get to meet the WNGC and their mate. The WNGC starts off by telling that they are the FUNNIEST PERSON I HAVE EVER MET. Really? I didn't know that I had led such a sheltered life. The pleasantries begin.
WNGC wants advice. Has heard that I've actually been to Hollywood and New York City. What should they do about their upcoming recording session? Huh? Seems that they have talked a producer into a recording session.
"You got a contract, right?"
WNGC, "Uh, no."
"How about an agent or lawyer?"
"I haven't talked to one."
"How long you been doing comedy clubs?"
"Never done any, don't need to. I just do stuff on tape."
"What are you going to do when it comes time to go on the road. All comedians, sooner or later, have to go on the road."
"I'm not going on the road, I'm not leaving Memphis!"
Then WNGC wants me to listen to their screamingly funny comedy tape. I get to hear about ten minutes of it. Out of five jokes, one is not too bad. I ask them how many they've got. They claim to have "two tapes worth". How about copyright? Never done it, doesn't need to.
"Everything is all in my head".
No kidding?
Welcome to fantasy island, backwoods style.
I have copies of different contracts from a screenwriters conference that I attended a few years back. Since it now turns out that the WNGC will be staying for a few days, "to continue getting advice" I volunteer to give them a copy of a contract to review.
Then were spoken those words everyone loves to hear.
"I'm gonna be here a few days, just to be able to do my work."
Huh?
In this county there are about 10 bars, all serving beer, you can't buy liquor and there aren't any comedy clubs. I doubt that the material I heard on the tape would be played in one of the 117 churches we have for our 10,000 residents. Let's say that this is serious Bible belt country.
You can't imagine how overjoyed I was to hear the next comment.
"If you aren't busy in the next couple of days, I'd like to talk to you about my work."
Didn't we just do that?
After all, I was just sitting around, waiting for you to show up. I'm working on a book, rewriting a business plan, maintaining a 300 acre farm and restoring an old car. My days are a minimum of 16 hours long, every day of the week. Lots of spare time. Which is spent looking at the back of my eyelids.
I had just spent the last hour and a half with this person, explaining what little I know about the entertainment business. They had proceeded to tell me that none of it applied to them.
You don't need to do any work, just show up at the recording studio.
Why worry about a contract, the producer is going to pay me, right?
Hey, I wrote this stuff, so nobody can use it but me. If they do, they have to pay me.
Why write anything down, I can remember it all in my head!
This is all being said while the WNGC is drinking shots of Uncle's whiskey and sipping beer to chase it. Then complaining to Uncle about the "...cheap rotgut that you drink, can't you buy better booze?"
After that I excused myself, took the doggie bag and headed out the back door.
WNGC got the copy of the contract the next day. I got the "Yeah, it doesn't matter." speech. Probably right, it's just words on paper. When this happened, I realized that this was more than a waste of time. There was work in the barn to be done, so I went there next.
Rerun everything I wrote above, just change the setting to the tractor shed where I repair the farm equipment. This happened everyday for the next three days. How many times can you tell someone the same thing? I tried the allegory method, the personal example, etc.
It's like hammering on a large piece of steel with a wooden stick. You exert your energy, but nothing changes. OK, the stick will flatten out and eventually splinter. Like my reserve.
I finally had to say those magic words.
"I don't know what to tell you."
When a person knows more than you do about a situation, just give it over to them. You might have all the experience in the world, but they are going to make their mistakes, no matter what you tell them. Save yourself the time and effort.
Wish them the best.
Then go on with your work.
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