do you sing in your car at night?

i'd like to have a girlfriend.
i think it would be fun.

lucky 13

the alarm went off shortly after 4 a.m. we had gone to sleep around midnight. my call was at 5:30, while joe and kirk came later in the alphabet and so had to be there an hour later. but i was their ride, and we left together, 20 minutes later than i wanted. the casino was about 20 minutes away without traffic and the freeway was jammed. we took an early exit and sped down the old strip, a little nervous as we rushed toward the 'o' theatre, wondering if they would tell me to go home if i was 10 minutes late.

wait.
i suppose i should start at the beginning.

remember that day when i was sick and posted the video of r.e.m. and the muppets? well, that afternoon i got a phone call from a friend [kirk] whose wife works at a casting agency and had just told him that 'ocean's 13' was in vegas and needed 200 extras and proposed we leave the next day and go be in the movie. i was sick, tired, and told him i would call him back. within a few minutes i decided i wanted to do it-- a couple of phone calls would take care of my responsibilities at church [that's one reason why we have counsellors] and opportunities like this don't come along everyday. as cool as it would be to see brad pitt and george clooney, what i [and kirk] really wanted to see was steven soderbergh, the man behind 'ocean's 11 and 12', 'erin brockovich', and the great 'traffic'. that would be cool.

a very sloq oil change on friday held us back a bit, then up to salt lake to grab kirk, pick up joe back here at byu, and we were off to vegas. we stayed at a friend of kirk's [thereby greatly cutting costs and making this trip feasable] where i slept on the floor and tried to off any cockroach i saw [trip total: 4].

we were to report for costume fitting at noon on saturday. we left an hour early to make sure we could find the place and did so within 15 minutes. we were in and out before 12. they loved my shirt [tj max, thank you] and gave me some gray pinstripe slacks to wear and a number to pick it up.
we went out for good sushi, ran around the strip, checking out the bellagio in all it's class, trying on clothes that cost as much as my car at ceasar's palace, and had dinner at a wolfgang puck restaurant in the mgm grand. three fountain shows at the bellagio and we headed home, renting and watching 'ocean's 11' and falling asleep to 'ocean's 12'.

monday morning got us in a long line of extras, mostly amidst aspiring actors, eager to show off their talents of being able to sit at a slot machine or silently sipping a drink. i got my pants and dressed, happy that everything was working out without a hitch, feeling a little strange as the grips pushed their carts past us, watching, as it were, from the wrong side.

breakfast was catered by the hotel/casino and was quite good [especially the hashbrowns]. we ate in the theatre where cirque du soleil performs their 'o' show, and after a while a couple of 2nd a.d.s came and explained things.

'today we have bernie mac, andy garcia, and al pacino.'

wow!
who else can we add to the 'ocean's' movies? how about al pacino? sure.
actually, it seemed like a natural progression. wow. to see al pacino. the godfather.

yet, despite all that, i was a little bummed that george clooney and brad pitt weren't going to be there--they're the ones i think of when i think of 'ocean's 11'.

they called a large group of 'casino gamblers' [which is what we were] to go out, but not our row.
and we waited.

and waited.

thoughts began to come: what if they don't need us? what if we spend both days just here in the theatre?

right out that door and down the hall are bernie mac, andy garcia, and al pacino, all being directed by oscar winner steven soderbergh....
and we're in here.

we didn't come with a ravenous hope of being discovered or schmoozing with anyone; we were just independant filmmakers who wanted to see what a big set of a great director is like.

we hung out right by the doors, so that whenever they called for us, we would be right there. and sure enough, it worked.
by luck and grace, we managed to not get placed in some obscure background, but at the outer row of video poker machines--the camera was still a ways a way, but we had a chance of being seen.
as we were waiting around for something, i was straining to see mr. soderbergh. i thought i saw him: a guy standing near the camera who kind of looked like him and wasn't doing much but looked focused. when i saw him move toward the camera as they called 'rehearsal', i figured it was him. [he not only lights his own work, he operates the camera, too].

we heard some applause, and i looked across the masses to see bernie mac in a bright orange blazer and pink shirt [stars are easy to recognize in costume, thankfully]. we saw a propmaster, holding the cane andy garcia carries in '12', and soon saw mr. benedict himself. but what was really exciting was when we noticed the stand-ins, just behind me [at a machine] and right in front of kirk [who was assigned to mingle with some other gamblers], for one of them was about the size and complexion of mr. al pacino.

sure enough, we heard some more applause, and around came michael corleone, al pacino.
he looks like he looks. dressed very sharp, his character is obviously in line with terry benedict [andy garcia was also dressed to the max]. while near us, his general action was to walk past us and then into the section where the other two charaters were.
for being one of the legendary actors of cinema, it was nice to see that he was not a complete dink. everyone professionally gave him his space, but i also saw him joking with an older couple of extras. that was very cool.

and i have the honor of having used the same restroom as him.
for they are human, like us.

am i in the movie? i think i'll be able to freeze the dvd and see my back. thankfully, my shirt stands out well.

lunch was a nice box lunch, again courtesy of the bellagio, and then back to the same spot. when the camera wasn't on us, we gathered togethed and tried to see across the crowd to what mr. soderbergh was doing. not quite the educational experience we had hoped for, but we didn't complain.
jokingly, i said i wanted to go up to him and ask, 'are you peter andrews?' i'll let you look that one up for yourself, but it would put me ahead of the usual adoring fan. i could even compliment him on rating the 'ocean's 11' stock at 1500 and pushing it two stops while holding a great image.

speaking of an over-excited camera assistant, i saw that there was another camera operator for 'b' camera, and this is one more reason to stay and watch the credits of a movie--you start to recognize names, especially if you've read about them in magazines. and sure enough, the 'b' operator was duane manwiller, whom i've read about, seen pictures of, and who worked on 'solaris' [also soderbergh's]. i would have had no problem introducing myself to him, as i doubt camera operators get recognized by extras very much, and it would have been fun, but i never got close enough.
sigh.

the 2nd a.d.s told us they usually do 8 hour days, 10 at most, which left us baffled, as i have never heard of regular days that short-- 12 is standard here in utah, and i thought that was industry standard. but our day did go long, a little over 12 hours for those of us with 5:30 calls, and so we got overtime pay [the bonus of bigger shoots is more money for everyone, even the extras].
the downside is that they evidently worked faster than planned [hard to imagine, since it seems like we only did four or five shots that day], and so they didn't need us for the next day.

we went out for dinner at the venetian that night, watched 'ocean's 12' at home, and concluded our trip.

i think in the end, after we get paid, the whole adventure will have cost me about $30. not bad for a weekend in vegas with a couple of good friends and a day on set in steven soderbergh's new movie, next to al pacino and andy garcia.

shiny

i'm sick today.
i feel cruddy.
and my keyboard just stopped working.

and so i'm posting this.
i hope you like it.
it makes me feel fuzzy.

in search of sunrise

whenever i talk with my dad, he asks if i have any work coming up; a reasonable question from a caring parent to a son of a freelance lifestyle. when i talked with him on monday [i think i did...], i told him 'no', reminding that that can always change.
tuesday morning began like any other day: listen to the radio, go to the weight room [the blasted deposit for that key was more than the deposit for my apartment in college--i'm going to use it!], finish watching 'the magnificent ambersons' over breakfast, shower, and turn my phone on.

on my phone was a message from cosmic--called my friend, and he said they might need me for a shoot tomorrow, but he would get back to me. nothing hard, just shooting a glass of beer on the stage.
well, i wanted the job, but i won't take money for promoting beer.
when rich called back, i declined and explained why. he said, 'what if it's an underage drinking psa?' i whooped and cheered and was happy to be working the next day.
be there at 8, work until 5. i can do that.

then, that afternoon, i got a call, looking for help on the last night of that rugby movie; they were starting at 7 p.m., tomorrow evening.

do the math:
wrap at cosmic at 5.
1 hour to travel home.
half hour at home.
half hour up hobble creek canyon.
call is at 7.

24 hours? sure, i can do that.

the cosmic shoot was great. we spent quite a while building different rigs to pour the beer into the various cups. the concept is a baby bottle, a sippy cup, a sports bottle, against a black background, being filled with beer, showing something about underage drinking.
i don't know how they do it, but whoever does the bud lite commercials really knows how to pour beer.
we spilled some, spilled some on ourselves [i was curious if questions would arrise when the other camera assistant showed up to byu to teach the cinematography class that night, smelling of such], and eventually got a decent stream. [getting it to not look like a urine sample was a trick, too].

we got out of there in good time, and after a brief stop at home, i was going through springville, up the canyon. talking with the production manager on set, i got a call from rich at cosmic, asking if i was available for some light work tomorrow morning at 8. i did consider it, and would have taken it, except that i didn't trust myself on the freeway. only working 24 hours, i guess.

nights can go long, but cool work makes it better. talking with the other camera assistants, i found out that i wasn't replacing someone, but was extra help, as we had four cameras for the 'car crash' scene.
coolness.

i ended up on 'b' camera, which was on a 25' jib arm, operated by a really cool guy who also does audio surveilance for the midvale police. if he weren't working that night, he would have been wiring a hotel room for a sting operation.

the car came speeding down the road, swerving as it almost hits another car, going right underneath our camera as i'm pulling focus.

after dinner and around 3 a.m., we found ourselves out in the field, setting all four cameras to capture the convertable as it jumps a ramp at 35 mph. we had a safety meeting:
'if the car flips over, she's going to run out and see if i'm ok. if she asks for people to come and turn the car over, that means i'm fine. if she calls for the paramedic, that means i'm hurt. i've also got a fire extinguisher, although i can't imagine needing that.'

ok.

a few tests, to make sure he can hit the ramp, and then they called to roll the camera [all this time i'm going over everything in my head, making sure i turn the camera on and all that stuff]. ''b' camera speed!' i yelled, and in a few moments, here came this red convertable, down the road, off the ramp, into the air, onto the field, and it kept going.

really fun, but dare i say a little too uneventful?
i better not.

by 4:30, i was getting a little sour and tired, especially since my work was essentially done. i helped out here and there, noticed that the regular loader had a lot more girls in the trailer than came to visit me when i was loading, and by 5:30 was let go.

i was getting home just as my neighbor was coming back from unlocking the pool. he stared at me and asked where i was coming from. 'work,' i told him.

i slept until 2.

my thoughts

sept. 11, 2001
i remember first hearing something in the wilk ballroom during my 8 a.m. social dance class. something about a plane crash and maybe the twin towers. i really don't remember much, because i didn't hear much. class just went on. i heard something in my japanese class, too, but again, it was just bits and class went on.
when i really saw what was happening was walking through the bookstore, i stopped by the tv and saw a replay of the towers collapsing.
there're really no words to describe that.
'unreal' is the only thing i can think of, but isn't exactly correct.

president bateman was scheduled to give the opening year devotional that morning, but instead spoke on what had happened, giving us details on what was occurring on the other end of the country, what we could do to help, and offering words of wisdom and understanding in his deep, somber voice. i remember hearing the details of the attacks, feeling the same thing i felt at the hiroshima peace museum that may: a very heavy feeling, coming from the outside, not within. i also felt a resurgance of gratitude for the Atonement, though i didn't fully see how that applied at the time.
i find that quite interesting and still think about it.

i spent the afternoon in the library on the internet.

From: SuperflyS@aol.com
Date: Tue, 11 Sep 2001 20:26:55 EDT
Subject: The day after the revolution
To: macavity_0@yahoo.com

So yeah. What do you make of this? I am not interested in going to war.
suck.

so wrote my friend at the university of minnesota.

that night we were, like most, gathered around the tv for news that was interesting and relevant [that's an understatement]. and we rushed out to buy gas on the rumor that it would go up to $5 a gallon.

i've met several people who are wwII buffs, or who love to study the civil war. i find myself rather fascinated with 9/11. i saved any relevant newspaper and magazine i could get ahold of [and still regret not taking a copy of the new york times when i saw the bin's door left open... i would have left some money for it], and get a solemn feeling when i pull them out and flip through them.

maybe it's because the news was interesting and relevant. maybe it helped us forget small and large trivial things. maybe because congress prayed for the first time in a long time. it brought out unprecedented kindness and solidarity in those who call themselves 'americans'. one of those times where you are reminded that even though your life isn't perfect, you [hopefully] do have what really matters, and reach out however you can to those who don't.

i spent this morning watching msnbc's rerunning of that morning's news coverage as i did what work i could do in my living room. i read emily's blog, and decided that i really should buy 'the man who planted trees.'

the littlest triathlete

in elementary school, the day we did the mile run in gym class was the most dreaded day of the year. it seemed much too long and really quite an unreasonable expectation for children. that many kids were getting 'gold' and 'silver' awards for clocking in at 6 and 7 minute times did not help, as my fastest time was 9:55 in second grade, and i did not break that until high school. [that that time has stayed with me for nearly 20 years is evidence to my feelings about this.]

in junior high and high school i strayed from sports. they seemed difficult, beyond me. i didn't enjoy gym class much, spent my electives on band and choir, and my after school hours were in musical theatre. [i won't play the 'last picked in gym class' card here, but you know i hold it]

in japan, a mountainous country, i drove my trainer nuts by never really having ridden a bike much before the mtc and being quite slow [and often tired] as we traversed that isle of the sea.

this spring, my sister talked me in to running the rex lee run, byu's 5K fun run. i did it.
i published the post so late that many of you probably missed it. you can read about it here.

becky has developed several weird hobbies, including visiting hard rock cafes in foreign countries, medicology, and running triathalons.
we talked of doing one together, and so i began training [running], a little worried that our pool has been closed as of late. last week, we decided not to do it.
'smart idea,' i thought. 'i really wasn't prepared.'

then, as you read, i learned that the decision to 'do' was back on, with less than 48 hours before the event.
i rented me a wetsuit [really rather excited to have that], found a bike to borrow, and put together a special playlist on my ipod. at 11:30 p.m. the night before, my friend brought over his bike, one fit for a tour of france. it didn't even have pedals; it had little silver dollar-shapes, whereupon the rider, wearing special little aerodynamic shoes, attaches to the silver dollars, allowing one to go very fast.
watching my friend [an able sportsman] demonstrate them and fall over in the process, my anxiety of what was to come in six hours did not calm down.

sleep cycles go in four hour segments, and i've noticed i feel better if i sleep for four hours than if i sleep for 5-6. so i watched 'conan' and went to bed at 12:30, my alarm set for 4:45.

i am not a morning person.
i am working to be better at it, but not there yet. even if i am in the morning of the first resurrection, there's a chance i will be cranky for the first hour or so.
i fought to stay awake as we drove to get to yuba lake, somewhere past nephi, by 7 in the a.
the thought of swimming half a mile in a lake on a cold morning, the getting on this superman bike and praying i don't fall over while my feet are attached ['you can really hurt yourself' phil told me last night], then running 5K did not have me too excited.

'remember how brothers are awesome!' yipped my sister and she and her friend got their gear ready.

i was somewhat calmed as i looked at the people around me. scattered about were those who looked like they were sponsored by adiddas or powerade, but many were gas station attendants, bus drivers.... you know, regular people.
maybe i could do this.

becky's roommate and friend of mine came down with a few other friends [obviously crazy] to take our pictures and cheer us on.
by now, my attitude had thawed and i was making jokes and had a good spirit about this impending gauntlet.

the water was cold.
the half mile course was outlined by three floating orange markers; the first two weren't too far out, and i felt kind of good. then i saw the third one-- this was a very scalene triangle.

ten minutes before us went the 'olympic' crew--they do twice the ordeal that we 'sprinters' do.

then they blew the horn and we all burst into the water.
i'm not a swimmer. i did the crawl stroke for about, oh, half the distance to the first floatie. then got tired.
this was not looking good.
but i still saw people around me, and that was comforting. there were also lifeguards out in bright green boats, ready to save any floundering soul.
as i rounded the second floater in the backstroke, realizing that even if i just turned around and swam back to shore i would be tired, i thought of calling out to the bright green and just holding on.
i didn't see how i could make this. when you're swimming, you can't stop to catch your breath. your only other option is to go under water.
i switched to the sidestroke. my right arm hurt all the more. i even doggie paddled as i noticed the people around me become scarce. every muscle in me was sore. i couldn't balance my head and it felt like i was falling back in to the water, my body was arching backward, yet i didn't go underwater. i wondered if i was hallucinating, panicking, but didn't feel like i was.
i did the backstroke again. water splashed in my face as i stared up at the sky, desperately trying to stay straight. a jet had gone by, leaving a line of smoke. if i could keep the line the same place, i would be on a straight course.

yet everytime i came back from the sidestroke and checked to see that i was still going toward the bouy, when i looked at the sky, that line at turned. a lot. that really confused me.

the lake was nearly empty by the time i came close to the dock [keep in mind, the olympic guys had gone around that course twice] but i could hear our friends cheering for me. i paddled and paddled until i touch ground. i stood up.
and then fell down into the water.
melissa and andrew helped me out as i stumbled, confessing that i hadn't been in water since maybe january.

it was like having my own pit crew. andrew helped pull off my wetsuit as i dried myself off. melissa held out my shirt while andrew put on my socks and got my special shoes ready. i put my ipod on, donned my wind tunnel-approved helmet, and took off. i didn't bother to lock my shoes onto the super-pegs; more speed is not worth having me feet securely attached to the bike, should i fall at such high speeds.

as bon jovi told me we've got to hold on to what we've got, the killers reminded me of all these things that i've done, and i fought like a lion. i sped down the freeway, crossed the bridge as the police officers watched for traffic, and passed my sister as she was coming back the other way--i was looking for her, but with her issue number written on her arm, she looked like some granola girl with a tattoo and i almost missed her.
i kept fighting at i rounded the turn around point and headed back. every time i saw someone on the horizon ahead of me, it gave me new resolve to work harder and i would pass them as japan's 'judy and mary' sang in my head. the terrain began look familiar once again when moby's james bond theme fueled the fires all the more, and i pushed even hard, passing three more girls.

'mission: impossible' was playing as i was helped off my bike and into my running shoes. i downed half my bottle of gatorade and took off, running like ethan hunt until andrew came up from behind and grabbed me, turned me around, and pointed me in the opposite direction. i thanked him.

the running part of the event never concerned me too much, because i get out and run 2.5 miles a couple times a week anyway [and there's no hill here]. but as i started down the course, my legs brought up a point of irrefutable logic: the rex lee run was a fun event, and becky and i were rather tired after that. i have just swam and biked a total of 13 miles, and now i'm going out to run five thousand meters? that's down a football field fifty times.
so, yes, i walked for a good part of it.

the course was also a bit of a psychological game, too. i ran across the field and then came to a guy who told us this was the turn around. they had little spats of flour on the ground to mark the course, and sure enough, this was the place to turn around. as i headed back to the base, i was feeling pretty good, thinking that this almost felt too short. after having done 13 miles, three more isn't that much.

but the flour didn't lead me back to the base. it kept going down the road.
so i ran.
after a good run [+ walk] i saw a guy leaning against a red converable, with a path leading down to the beach and back to base. i watched the horizon and saw people turn down there and go back. but when i reached the guy, he didn't point me down. he pointed me onward.
so i ran.

i fought. i wasn't getting any more tired, oh no. i ran out of energy shortly after the second floating orange marker in the lake, and never really got any weaker. afterall, you can't expend something where there is nothing.
i wasn't running on energy. i was running on my soul.

as a techno version of 'ode to joy' played, i began to imagine what it would be like, to cross the finish line; began to get emotional even at that thought; i even began to hyperventilate, though i'm not fully sure why. because i was pushing myself to the limit, i suppose.
and i began to understand why people did sports in high school. you can't get the feeling of being on stage on opening night in front of a packed auditorium out on the road, but you can't get this feeling there, either.

the course didn't seem to end. the road went around a mountain. eventually i saw a nice lady and her children at the water table. i drank two cups and turned around. i passed the guy by the convertable and headed down the hill and ran along the beach.

i was in my own movie. i was rocky. i saw myself in silhouette, running against the sun as sand kicked up behind me [and rocks fell into my shoe, but you don't see that part in the movies]; i pushed as the camera showed close-ups of my hands, my legs, my teeth, gritted and strong. i wanted to find 'ode to joy' and have that playing, but couldn't spare the energy. instead, i had 'kung fu' playing by 90's alt. rock group ash, and just as i crossed the finish line, cheers errupted from the song as people in reality cheered for #168.

i found my friends and hugged my sister, partially crying as we took pictures. it didn't matter to me that i was near the end, that they had all been there for 20 minutes. this was for me. crossing that finish line tasted just as sweet as first place did to the victor.

i did it.

and i wore my dirty, sweaty shirt for the rest of the day my number pinned to it. i had been through too much to earn that to just take it off for not good reason.

my tiny, personal scream

i'm here in the library on a friday night.
as a student, i think i would have felt like a lamer, that even if i weren't out on a date, it is at least better to be home than at the library.
but now that i'm a cougar alumnus, i feel above the reproach of the college social rules, and actually feel a little studious and disciplined, being here on a lovely night.

but apart from writing my dad a nice birthday e-mail, i haven't done much.

today has not been my day. much of that is my fault, for when you do not get off to the right start, the whole thing goes out of whack.

i am going to write the things that are bothering me. i just read the most recent writing's on em's blog, and she is preparing to make a full-blown cross country journey to leave her family and take her son and join her husband, starting grad school with so many unknowns before them. i know em will make it; she is awesome, and i've seen her in rough situations before, and would want her on my team, were she available to work on a movie. she's good and will get you through it.
my frustrations do not compare to hers, but i will write because i want to write.

• i'm upset that i haven't written more, that so many good ideas and theses have been lost to the passing of meaningful time, lapses in memory, or lost in sheer volume of ideas.
• that my computer is confusing me; quicktime will not run for some reason; in attempting to clear out more disk space, i lost a handful of non-essential but still apprecaited programs [solitaire's loss may have been for the best]; and that my nice savings to buy a new mac have been depleted to pay the bills [i suppose i should be glad i didn't buy the computer]
• that internet availability at our house is sketchy at best, working really at the only the most inopportune times, making things just that much more frustrating [on the other hand, it is nice to be back at the library; i just wish i had the time to enjoy being here right now]
  
• that my sister informed me last night that she was indeed running the triathalon tomorrow, after deciding last week not to go. and, since i want to run one with her and this is our last chance, i am going, too, despite not having swam in many, many months and that i haven't fully secured a bike yet and it is 9:30 friday night and we are leaving at 5 a.m. tomorrow. i'm really quite nervous about this.
  
• that my phone died when my friend who was going to loan me the bike called.
• that i had so many things to do today and hardly did any of them.
• that all the friends i tried to contact this evening just to say and have some 'friend contact' did not reply for one unknown reason or another.
• i guess that's about it.
• i want to write blogs, journals, work on this movie thing, buy more equipment so i can be a better and more confident camera assistant, read so many books, watch so many great movies and then write about them.
• and my room is perpetually messy, which doesn't really help anything.
• i could use a hug.
• or a cat.
  

days go by

i'm terribly sorry i haven't written more.
i want to write, too.
i have notes jotted down, ideas and themes in my head, and dreams that will probably not turn out all that glorious when i write them.

all in this afternoon, i got two back to back jobs for tomorrow, meaning i will be working 24 hours straight, and i am also working in pre-production on a feature-length movie [more about that later] and was offered to pitch myself for a job from a creative agency.

so much for those bohemian days on the fifth floor of the library.

currently i'm in the main hall of the library, racing to get even this posted before the 'get out now' music begins.

i love you all.

same as it ever was

beej, when you get a new tv, i would like to buy yours.

it's a funny feeling, to look around and see what i have in my life.

living in byu housing provides one with all the basics--bed, furniture, it all comes with the place. yet, life barrels on like a runaway train, and i now find myself in a nice little townhouse in a lovely little development much further west in provo than i ever knew existed.
i have my own couches, desks, bed, dresser, walls covered in my own photography, a kitchen stocked appropriately for a single college grad [my parents bought me a pots and pans set when i started at byu 5+ years ago, and i've still never needed to open it. there's always been something endearing about that box of cookery, though. i think it's the connotations that it carries, that bittersweet 'going off to college and starting your own life'....]

i write this only because it can be interesting to stop and look around once in a while, to see where you are and where you've come from.

well, how did i get here?

the weight of the world

during my second year at byu, i took a directing class. largely not that useful, they divided us into groups and gave us different scenes to direct. when it was my turn to direct a scene for 'casablanca', i had the idea of how i wanted it edited together and was quite nervous about letting an 'editor' do it while i wasn't there.
but when i stopped by the madlab ['media arts development lab'], i was surprised with what he had done--it was better than i could have done. a fact of film making that i learned better than any teacher could have told me: all those names are there on the credits because it takes a lot of people working together to make a movie.

i think i need to learn that lesson again, this time at church.
most sundays i love church and love my calling, but today i felt overwhelmed, seeing a hundred things i had to do and wondering how it would all happen, wondering why we didn't seem to be getting the results we had planned for.
although, i didn't realize how bad it was until two different friends immediately told me i looked tired.
9 a.m. church with 7:30 a.m. meetings doesn't help.... = D

i planned on going to bed as soon as i got home, but have spent the time talking with friends going through various hard times; there's something almost special about how the weight of others' problems is, in someways, easier to carry than our own.

i saw myself in the mirror tonight [which is where i usually see myself, i suppose], and with my round glasses and my hair the way it is, i kind of look like ned flanders.
[minus the stache]

meh.

the tale of the samwise the friendly

'go films' is one of my favorite companies to work for. i worked with them on a movie called 'the outlaw trail' last fall, and, though when i think back, i remember being frustrated several days, i think of it now as one of my favorite features i've done.
oh, the perplexing complexity of the human psyche.

but i loved the crew and they loved me, and so i was a little surprised [and perhaps, 'hurt'] when they started their new one, a movie about rugby that looks like it will actually be something more than a 'utah independant'. when i came on to help them out for a day a few weeks ago, i pleasantly found out that they actually did want me for this one, but, long story short, there was some miscommunication [amongst other things] and yadda yadda yadda, i'm a dayplayer.

they're great people, and it's always fun to work with them. plus, i like loading on features.

i went in this morning, fought jason for control of the camera trailer stereo and lost [but as soon as he took the camera on to set, oingo boingo went in the player] and was talking with some of the other camera assistants.

'have you seen the hobbit?', they asked.

while i don't remember where i heard it, i recalled that sean astin was in this movie for a small bit.
a good day to day play.

in between loading film in the dark room, i began texting my friends, exclaiming that i was getting to work with sean astin and listen to oingo boingo and get paid all at the same time.
with everything loaded and ready, i brought the cases into set and was on my way out to the trailer when ryan [the director] and sean astin came walking in.

now, a general rule of film making is to leave the 'talent' ['actors'] alone. if you don't work directly with them, back off.
so many people can be touchy or finicky [there's actually a bit of irony here....] and chances are you are more expendable than they [although not always true.....]
so i got all excited inside at seeing mikey the goonie walking toward me and tried not to make eye contact and moved a little to the side, still planning on saying hi to ryan, when i hear 'hey, high five!'
i didn't think anyone powerful was behind me, and sean moved toward me.

and so i did what any lord of the rings fan would do--i high fived the man.

now, it wasn't the most solid high five i've given, but it was good enough to warrant me rushing back to the dark room and texting several people again, announcing that the hand used to type said text had just touched 'rudy's hand [i've never seen 'rudy'. should i?]

as the adreline subsided, i realized that i could have shaken his hand, introduced myself, and told him that my sister had a crush on him when she was six.

man, some days we really blow it, you know? ; )

it was a great day on set. the schedule was light, things went smoothly, and sean was great to work with. he would talk with anybody about anything.
at lunch, i was carrying a mid-day report of the film inventory and asked him for a picture [it helps to be friends with the set photographer when you didn't bring your own camera]. he was more than happy to, and went through the inventory list, trying to decipher the different codes we have on there [steve the camera guy used this to grab a few more shots for me, which i thought was cool of him].

one of our last shots of the night was a shot of him and big buddha on the bleachers at a rugby game. we got several takes of them cheering and doing whatever else it was they were supposed to be doing. during some rehearsing, ryan [the director] came around to all of us and said that he was going to ask for 'one more', and when he called 'action', we were all to start chanting 'rudy, rudy, rudy....'

for a lot of actors, it would be easy to quietly smile, or even look 'amused' in an almost patronizing way. but sean smiled, then laughed, then jumped up on the bleachers and started calling out plays [i'm guessing it was some reference to the movie. i should see it, shouldn't i?], and finished by jumping onto the ground and spiking the [rugby] ball.
the behind-the-scenes guys loved that one....

under 12 hour day, met sean astin, and i even got a shirt [much to the joshing chagrin of the regular crew members.....].

i recently found out that mary lynn rajskub was on a movie some other friends did out here earlier this summer. now, to get a picture with her, that would have me giddy.... [although i doubt she'd be as amiable as sean]

out of my element

on thursday i saw m:i:iii at the dollar theater. i loved it. absolutely loved it. i composed an enthusiastic entry on it as i sat there, enjoying the two and a half hour rollercoaster ride [by myself, sadly, but that didn't hamper things much]; and then i never got around to writing. on friday afternoon, my roommate and i went to x-men 3 at the aforementioned theater. while not as good as the previous day's cinema or superman returns, it was nevertheless a fun one to enjoy. and between these two rather kickin' sequals and the long previews for pirates 2 before both movies, i'm getting quite excited to see johnny depp prance around in his eyeliner and boots again... [i haven't seen the first one since we were shooting nappy d.... i should buy it....]

tonight i suggested we watch 'hero', as a friend curiously looked at the box sitting on the floor below the dvd racks. people were up for it, but during this morning's stake activity, buzz of 'the ballad of will ferrel the race car driver' stirred, and when the mantle of leadership fell upon me, i sacrificed what i wanted for the desires of the others and suggested we go see 'the legend of bobby ricky'.
besides, with all of my artsy foreign black and white movies that i have, perhaps i could use a good will ferrell movie. i like to laugh.

as i write this, i pause to reflect on the anomaly of the situation: there have been several movies i've wanted to see this summer, nearly all of them being largely well-received blockbusters and general good fun popcorn movies, and all of them i have waited to see until they got to movies 8, where i can more easily afford them [and 'prairie home companion' is slated to be there soon; rest assured, i am watching the schedules for the week it comes, for it will be one week only]. yet i somehow paid full price on a saturday night to see the newest will ferrell movie.
huh?

do not get me wrong, this situation had several things going for it: i generally like will ferrell; i can't recall the last movie of his i saw [if any], but he has made me laugh before, and since hometeaching his counsin last summer i'm a little more sympathetic to him. and, as anyone who watched me dance the 'time warp' in front of the class during sharon's 'intro to film theory' will recall, the environment is itself part of the movie experience.

being someone who was more interested to see robert altman's new movie this summer than just about anything else, this was not my usual crowd around me tonight. but that's kind of fun. the dudes giving each other high-fives after the action movie previews made it feel more like an amusement park, and that added to the experience. even the guy right in front of me, with his arm around his girlfriend, yelling out attempted quick wit quips that fell silent didn't bother me the slightest [now, those kids in front of me on the opening night of 'return of the king', that was a different story for a different posting].

the movie? it's a star vehicle. the conversation i just had with mark was rather interesting. i didn't laugh at much, and remember general crude humor and abrasive language, but the amount that i remember and that he remember vary somewhat. he states it was a lot worse than i remembered it being. count that as a blessing, he says.
i think i will.
cardboard plot that does its utilitarian supporting job, stock characters in a standard snl veteran movie, and nascar humor that mocks the culture without alienating those who do worship it. there were a few lines i found genuinely funny, but i could not remember a one as we walked out of the theater. [conversely, we quoted 'royal tennenbaums' for over a month after having seen it only once].
never did the theater erupt or even burst into laughter. the closing credits held the theater full for a few more minutes as the above the line names flashed by, showing out-takes and bloopers that elicited an actual laugh from me.

in light of the combination of this sort of movie and a group of friends who had never been to the movies with me before, i did not stay for the entirety of the credits. i was curious to hear what my friends thought, since this was more of their style. as they met me at the bottom of the stairs, apologies came forth along with affirmations of the overabundant vulgarities and, worst of all, the overriding lack of funniness.

so maybe it wasn't me.

as phil dropped us off, i reminded him that, the next time i say 'let's watch 'hero' tonight', let's watch 'hero' that night.

this week alone, i have added to my dvd library 'schindler's list', 'the house of flying daggers', 'adaptation', and 'sense and sensibility', all for less than the price of tonight's ticket. on my dvr i have 'apocalypse now', 'the conversation', 'the last samurai', 'erin brockovich', 'a night at the opera', and 'raging bull'.

true it is, that a fool and his money are soon parted.

direction to perfection

i was frustrated that i didn't have much of a selection of music tonight, but, driving home, i found a great song on the radio and, for the first time in a long time, turned it up nice and loud and played my steering wheel like a drum as i sang from my heart.
it felt real good.

i also liked the friendly police man who didn't mind that we were parked along the street atop the nice neighborhood hill but who did wonder what we were doing 'sleeping on the hood of our car'. we explained we were just looking at the stars and enjoying the view, and he was cool with that.

i like the feel of listening to nick warren in shanghai as we speed down the street light lined roads of north orem, of doing a donut in a work zone that we ended up in by mistake, and the feel of profundity.

security.
yeah.

prancing with dignity

the memories will keep us together.

with a perfect goose egg of wins for the regular season, the 'prancing gazelle' of the byu 223rd ward played our first game of the tournament last night. while regular games were matched up by no apparent order, we were now placed against a team of like ability. sure, they were mostly married grad students, but we feared them not.
the game started off with a jolt of promise, for, at the end of the first inning, we were ahead [for the first time in the season]. sadly, a missed catch here, an overthrown pass there, and a strong defence by the nameless married-grads pushed us back over the course of the hour-long game.

our friends came and cheered us on as we ran as fast as we could and made some nice plays, and the final hit came from phil, our amazing captain, who cracked the ball so far into the outfield that it was called an 'out', and with it went the 'prancing gazelle' from the tournament.

reason #177 why i love my sister

becky has been in ghana for almost a month, and on wednesday begins her treck back to the north american continent, arriving in utah on sunday evening. i'm thrilled to have my sister back, and her final e-mail beat anything that i could write for today [i don't think i did a very good job describing the thrills of accordions and rodeos and perhaps need a break].

Saturday we were set to go to Paga, which is up by the northern border of Ghana. We were supposed to be picked up to leave at 6am, so I was ready then. At 6:30 I figured they were just running late, and kept the same thought at 7am. By 7:30 I began to wonder i was forgotten. Then they called and said they'd be there in 5 minutes. Around 8:25 they showed up at my house (this is Ghana and that's just the way it is). So we journeyed on for 2 and a half hours to Paga. The scenery was beautiful and green with trees dotting the land, and villages and farmers along the way.

Paga has ecotourism--where you can go to the crocodile pond, that supposedly has tame crocodiles and you can sit on them. Not quite the same at elephants, but still makes for a great picture.
So we get to the crocodile pond, pay a few bucks to buy a chicken that will be fed to the crocodile after it patiently lets it sit on us (Mom, sorry, a few chickens were harmed in this process--but it beats the alternative of humans ;)

And a crocodile comes out of the pond, with its mouth wide open "smiling" at us, if you will. Well, they fed a chicken to the one crocodile, who promptly crunched it up. I turned and saw another crocodile on my other side. You have to wonder how stupid you would sound to say "I got attacked by a crocodile while I was standing there....they said they were tame...."
Really, who tames crocodiles??

The legend says that years ago, the villagers wanted to make friends with the crocodiles, and so they did! So they threw another (live) chicken to the second crocodile. Unfortunately, this crocodile didn't snap soon enough and the chicken ran away--towards us! So here's a chicken, running at me, with a crocodile right behind it, coming after the chicken on its stubb legs! Of course we screamed and tried to run somewhere so as not to have our legs mistaken for a chicken. The natives just laughed at us and assured us they won't hurt.

But what if there's that ONE time when......?????

So then a bigger crocodile came out of the pond and one by one, a native took us over to sit on its back, and we squatted on top of it, smiling scaredly at the camera. Then we stood up and held its tail, then cautiously walked back, keep a distance as we walked by the mouth (Yes, I brought my BYU bookstore bag and took a few pictures--if I can figure out how to crop the pictures, they look pretty good)

what would brigham play?

i like how fireworks are sold in utah throughout the entire month of july.
we've got the fourth the start, where it belongs. and then, almost three weeks later, we get the 24th of july, which we call 'pioneer day', in celebration of the day brigham young came in with the pioneers and stated, 'this is the place.'

dispite any stereotypes that may exist, i have noticed that utahns like to celebrate things more than most do. not that new orleans has any cause for competition; it's a different kind of party.

still, not growing up here, i tend to forget about the second july holiday, and am not entirely sure what to do with it. i've been gone for a few of them, and spent the night in a salt lake city park to see the parade the next morning one year.
but this was perhaps the raddest.

i got my first accordion lesson!
and it was all i hoped it would be.
actually, it's rather hard to play that thing. kind of like a mutation between a saxophone and a piano, as your left hand is pressing different buttons down while your right hand plays a little piano. totally different set-ups, the left produces the harmony and the right is the melody. after a few hours, i could play the first line of 'twinkle, twinkle', had some sore shoulders and hands, and was in musical love.
so, many thanks to corinne for her help and patience, and i will be scanning ebay now....
my long term goal is to play the solo from 'particle man.'

but what better way to celebrate utah than with a rodeo? as i think about it, my only previous experience was our last night in preston, id, when the rodeo came to town [and we were no longer front page news]. i only saw part of it but knew that i liked it.

the spanish fork rodeo was great. while tickets are all you need to get in, i recommend a cowboy hat, ripped jeans, and a few bottles of sarsaparilla. worked for me, anyway.

there was a pre-show of cowboy mounted shooters, who raced around a course and shot balloons with a six-shooter and, later, a pump-action shotgun. a guy from minnesota won, thank you.
the rest of the night included racing, bucking horses, rodeo clowns, and some seriously big and mean bulls. we cheered and waved our hats, but i think my favorite event was the 'mutton busting', which is little five-year old kids riding bareback on sheep. a ton of fun to watch, and something i intend to force upon my children. [em, are you reading this?]

once i master the accordion, i'm pointing my sights at steer wrestling.

jimmy olson's blues

michael jackson, the prince of pop, the greatest entertainer of the 80s, is now generally seen as a wacko.
and tom cruise, who was the epitome of cool all those years ago, is looked upon with confusion, too.

o where have all the heroes gone?

at a time like this, it is nice to know that superman has returned.

actually, he's been around for a while.... the comics killed him then brought him back as four or five different incarnations, network tv married him to a desperate housewife, and the wb thought he would be more interesting as a teenager.

but the best superman is the superman.

bryan singer brought insight, depth, and general coolness to x-men six years ago, a series that could have easily been a mediocre comic book movie. he revitalized the public's interest in superheroes, a rebirth that has produced a surprising amount of good movies [all three x-men, the second spiderman, and last summer's batman begins].
i was nervous when mr. singer left x-men 3, but it seems to have turned out just fine. better yet, his expertise could not have been better placed than with the first and the greatest superhero.

unlike christopher nolan's batman begins, superman returns does not erase the previous story and begin anew, but continues with what has been said so far in his cinematic life. from the very start this is acknowledged, as the opening credits are done in a style that look like they could have been designed for 1980's xanadu. i loved it.

i loved to movie from the start. and through the end.
often i find myself waking from the suturing of the screen after 45 minutes or so, enjoying a movie but perhaps a little restless for it to be done, so that i can have seen it and then be on with my life.
but for over two and a half hours, i loved it all.

scenes are not wasted in all that time. we don't have to wait an hour to see the eponymous character, he and the world he lives in is treated as if it were real, and even though he is invincible and omnipotent, he still has to work hard.

lest there be any question about the abilities of the man of steel, once he is 'back', we are given an excellent slice of his life: a diabolical crinimal is on a rooftop with police surrounding below--a typical dc comics scene. the bad guy opens up on the officers below with a giant machine gun and havoc ensues. literally moving faster than a speeding bullet [much faster], our hero comes and walks right into the fire. not only does the shot say so much about who superman is and what he does, it is also very cool.

back at the daily planet, the editor states that three things sell papers: sex, violence, and superman.
that's interesting to think about.... if superman was real, he would be fascinating to read about. i'd buy the paper. look at the headlines on cnn.com-- 'superman stops bank robbery' would stand out like a physician among the sick.
hearing the editor bark out subjects for investigation to all the differest newspaper sections is fun, and you have to agree with him; it's interesting stuff.

while he was gone, lois lane wrote a pulitzer-winner article entitled 'why the world doesn't need superman'. written out of a broken heart for him leaving her suddenly, she cynically looked upon the world and declared that there was no need for a Savior. that we are fine without any help from above. to this, superman takes her high above the city. lois doesn't hear anything. but he hears everything, he tells her. every cry for help, every prayer sent up is heard. the world pleads for a Savior; they need him, and he is there.

there is an interesting association with our heroes and their values. batman is an iconic hero, but works in the shadows dishing out vengence. he is not against 'truth' and 'justice', and is in fact a soldier of them, but those are not slogans of the dark knight.
but superman does stand for 'truth, justice, and the american way' [interestingly, that final phrase is deftly omitted in the movie...]. and he looks and acts like it.
he is not a popularly cool hero. no chains or spikes or guns or sunglasses. he wears a bold blue costume with a red cape and neatly combs his nice black hair. even clark kent is a lovably nerdy guy. our heor is polite and courteous, cares for those whom he loves, and encourages people not to smoke. no lasers or claws, his strength is based on his physcial abilities, albeit infinitely enhanced by the powers of his father, who sent him to this earth to save those who could not save themselves.

not only does it feel refreshing to have such a classic hero return, it feels right.

like the chronicles of narnia, it is not only a fun blockbuster of the season, it's unexpectedly wise.

go see it.

potential rare cow sighting

i like road trips.
we met some nice people who gave directions when we were unsure which way to go [from wenatchee to the tri-cities, of which i had heard so much but never visited, is a beast. but once you hit kennewick, it's 500 miles on that road and you're home]. we listened to every they might be giants cd in chronological order as we sang along and discussed what each song could mean. quite enlightening.

but the coolest thing was that i think i saw three dutch belted cows. now, most of you didn't know me before i came to utah, but back in the day, i was a pretty big cow fan.
i still like cows.
i think they're great. they are calm and just happy to be out there, being a cow.
'moo' is fun to say and is fun to hear a cow say.
gary larson has made us laugh at bovines perhaps more than any other subject, and observed that even the word 'cow' is slightly funny sounding.
needless to say, getting to milk a cow at the minnesota state fair was a treasured memory.

and so one year for Christmas, my best friend got me 'a field guide to cows'. absolutely fascinating. it went through every breed of cow and discussed all about them. i loved it and have it with me out here.
while holsteins are the great iconic cow, the dutch belted cow is my personal favorite; a black [or sometimes, red] body with a broad white stripe around its body. a beautiful cow. what made seeing them so cool [assuming i was right in identifying them from our speeding car] is that, last i knew, there were less than 50 registered in the u.s.

yes, they are more abundant in the netherlands.

smells like nirvana

as we were leaving our little continental breakfast in the small lobby of the 'econo lodge' this morning [me with my chocolate muffin], a man walked in to the desk and said that his wife checked in here last night and paid for a single room while he was in the hospital, but that he got out early and spent the night here and now wanted to pay for the use of a double room.
it was really cool to see honest people like that.

we saw all that we needed to in leavinworth yesterday--can it substitute for an austrian town for our upcoming movie? far from an ideal location, but we can make it work, especially with shallow focus and avoiding showing the cars and the wide streets--and so we decided to spend today in seattle.

i think i took 250+ pictures and have decided that i should buy my own digital camera so i can stop borrowing [maybe i'll put them up on tim's website...].

in a karma way of making up for missing the tokyo tsukiji fish market, we saw the pike's place fish market, where really cool guys cheer and yell and really throw the fish you buy.
delicious fresh sushi and peaches [we think...] from a farmer's market for lunch.

the 'experience music project' cost more than our budget allowed, but the science fiction museum fit. cool? yeah, i suppose. worth it? not really, because it was $14 for two small floors of memorabilia. granted, i got to see darth vader's lightsaber from 'empire strikes back', which is something i've wanted to see for many years, the 'pit bull' hoverboard from 'back to the future II' [really not that impressive--i could build one], the t-1000's pointy fingure from T2, and the only full 3-D model of the death star from 'star wars'.
strangely, there was nothing from '2001'. sad.

outside the museum was a dancing robot--and by that i mean a dude in cardboard, red lightbulbs, and laundry dryer hose, dancing to kraftwerk's 'computer love' [in rather lackluster fashion] with a sign reading 'earth dollars needed for space fuel to get to st. louis'.
i gave him a dollar for a picture.
he beeped.
i beeped.

coming out of the museum, it looked like there was a girl inside the costume. she wasn't much of a dancer either.

the space needle was really rather rad.
fun. cool. neat.
we made reservations to come back and eat at the revolving restaurant.
and we could see the house boat from 'sleepless in seattle' [and by 'see' i mean we couldn't see it but we could see the area that it's in].

seattle is a nice city. very rich in fun culture, there are roughly one billion dining establishments of all cousines in the downtown area that i would like to try. complemented with all varieties of architecture from the last 100 years or so and a great warf with obsenely large boats, it's a fun fun place to run around and take pictures.
hopefully i'll have a few worth printing and hanging around the home.

the sky city restaurant was pricey but worth every penny. the structure does not rotate, just the floor [makes the most sense, really...], with one revolution being 47 minutes. i dined on fancy and delicious seafood that is best eaten slowly, so as to savor each delicate flavor [make sure to allow adequate tasting time for each item, be it shrimp, scallop, salmon, or ahi tuna--taking two different bites too close together can bring taste confusion and sadness].

our drive home took an hour less than did going there because we took the shorter route.
we talked about bigfoot, sasquatch, the yeti, and the abominable snowman.
interesting how bigfoot and vampires are two myths that exist in many cultures around the world.

laughs for no one else

'fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice
fortune depends on the tone of your voice'
--ben folds

when i was younger [so much younger than today], i noticed that people generally like to talk. and so i decided that i would be someone who listens and encourages others to talk.
i think i've done pretty good at that.
the side effect is that i can be rather un-talkative at times. it's a reaction to pass the topic of conversation to the other.

recently i've found myself around some rather talkative people; i like them, and others around them generally do, too.
and so i listen a lot and don't say much.
it's just a habit.

i think i need to talk more. politely listening and pondering can easily be mistaken for lack of interest or opinion.
talking seems to be a good thing, particularly if you can do so with confidence, enthusiasm, or some other positive adjective.

but then i think of the sage-like personas of dean duncan and other such great thinkers, who speak softly and wisely in such a way that people come to them to seek their opinions and thoughts, knowing that just because they are not constantly speaking has no relation to what
lies beneath.

maybe i just need to be more assertive.

'i'll tell you up front; i'm a man who likes talking to a man who likes to talk.'
-the fat man, 'the maltese falcon'

in these same not-so-talkie situations, i don't laugh a whole lot, either.
i guess i don't want to hand out my laughs likes pretzels; if i laugh, i want it to be because i genuinely think something is funny or amusing.

people like people who laugh, so why not laugh?