My First Gig in LA

Hello. Thanks for all your comments. I really appreciate that people actually take the time to read this stuff and respond.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you about my first gig here in LA. It came from, of course, Craigs List, where I do all my shopping. I responded to an ad from a production company looking for people to try a new coffee maker and willing to give a taped testimonial about their experience. In exchange, you get the coffee maker.

Well, if you know me, you know I love coffee. So I responded, and the next day, a production assistant brought the Krups coffee maker you can see me holding, to my apartment. They also sent along some coffee to get me started.

It's a great coffee maker, really. And after doing some research, I discovered that the single serve coffee "pod" market is really big. There are dozens of review sites, blogs, and providers of these pods. You can even buy organic, shade grown, non-slave labor, unbleached cotton, environmentally friendly pods. Cool!

It's a little more expensive than buying bulk coffee, that is one draw back, but it is working out okay.

Next, I'll tell you about my 2nd gig, directing a short film, but I have to go to an audition now. Later.

Oh, did I tell you, I'm a Hollywood director?

peace

Stop me if you've heard this one...

Okay, most of the time, I like to be serious as a heart attack. But, on occasion, I have been known to be a pretty funny guy. I think my observations about life, sometimes wry and sarcastic, can be pretty amusing. I'm not a stand-up, but I like to make up jokes and I can get out a few good one-liners. Usually when I'm not trying.

So it was with great surprise, even to myself, when I actually wrote a joke. It was about 12 years ago, and since it is the only "joke" I think I have ever wrote, I have always remembered it. You might say it is really a pun, but here it is:

Q: Why did the monkey go to the Crow Bar?
A: He was looking for a pry mate (primate)

Get it?

My Dinner with Steven

Steven Soderbergh, Michael Apted, Taylor Hackford, Cameron Crowe, Haskell Wexler, Paris Barclay; these are just some of the people I had dinner with last night.

As a director, new to Hollywood, I found myself in pretty good company. Okay, I’m not that new, I have been here almost a week.

Okay, I didn’t sit at the same table as all those distinguished directors, but I was in the same room. Last night was the monthly Western Directors Council Meeting of the Directors Guild of America. I am a proud member of that distinguished guild, and so I may attend council meetings and observe, but not participate. I am invited to join the council for dinner before hand and listen to the proceedings of the night, until the privacy, council members only portion of the evening.

Michael Apted, Chairman of the council, ran the meeting. I can’t go into detail on the agenda, but most were not dealing with highly creative issues, but technical issues such as waivers to guild rules by individuals and studios. There was one interesting section about reality television and the lack of opportunity for guild members in that field.

I found it fascinating and exciting to be there. I hope to attend these monthly meetings in the future, not just for the free dinner, but also for the opportunity to meet and work with the council in the future.

Oh, yeah, I had just come from apartment hunting with Circus, who got into town earlier in the day, and we found an apartment. Today we put in the application. Hopefully we get accepted and move in early next week.

Searching for an apartment

Atwater, Studio City, Los Angeles, Burbank, Korea Town, Larchmont, Glendale, Valley Village, Glassell Park, Pico, and of course, Hollywood. These are just some of the neighborhoods I have visited, driven through, or looked at apartments in; 14 in the last three days.

Let me back up a bit. I arrived in Los Angeles on Saturday afternoon. It was a beautiful drive from Phoenix; desert into mountains into the snow capped peaks outside LA. I love driving through the southwest.

I made a quick stop in Redlands, about 60 miles east of LA, to see my old friend Roberto. Roberto has been in California about 7 years. He got married, has a 4 year old son, and now has a critically acclaimed restaurant in Redlands called Farm. It was so nice to get a chance to say hello, have a sandwich, and catch up a little. Soon I got back on the road for the final 60 miles. I arrived in Burbank at Betty and Mike’s about 4:30. It was still warm enough for Betty and I to sit on the front porch, in the sun, and have a beer.

Sunday was the Oscars telecast. Betty and Mike invited me to their friends Reed and Marny’s house for an Oscar Party. They live in Hollywood, about a mile from the Kodak Theatre. It is the closest to the Oscars I have been, so far. I say so far because I will definitely attend an Academy Awards ceremony one day as a nominee. I’m getting closer all the time.

There were several connections to the Oscars there in that room. Reed had a role in Good Night and Good Luck, so we were all hoping that it would win an award. I was one of the many crewmembers Robert Altman thanked while accepting his lifetime achievement award. Yeah!

Monday morning I hit the ground running. I did a lot of driving around different neighborhoods I thought I wanted to live in. I made a lot of calls, but mostly I left a lot of messages. Some people returned, many didn’t.

It took a lot of time, and while I did get to see three apartments, I decided to join a rental service and get more leads. Westside Rentals is the most popular, and at 70 dollars for two months of listings, it’s not unreasonable. Soon I had thousands of listings to narrow down into usable choices.

Tuesday I saw about 7 or 8 apartments, I can’t keep them straight in my mind. I did lots of driving back and forth across the hills into the valley, out of the valley and back again.
The good thing is I am getting a crash course in Los Angeles geography and streets. I am really getting to know it and be more comfortable with it each day. But after seeing so many places, I was exhausted, and nothing I saw was any good.

The housing stock in LA is very different than in Chicago, where we have, I think, a much finer rental pool to choose from. Many of the places I saw in my price range, $1200 a month, (for a 2 bed/2 bath) were boxy and ugly, like the 4 plus ones you see on Sheridan Rd. in Rodgers Park. No style, no details, and mostly small and dirty. For $1200 a month in Chicago you could get a pretty nice place in a nice neighborhood, not here.

Today, Wednesday, I had more luck. I upped the price range and started seeing slightly better prospects. I saw some places I really liked. I decided to stop looking in the Valley. I want a real LA urban experience right now, and I want to be closer to all the action. Besides, if I live in the Valley I’ll end up working in Santa Monica, and if I live in Santa Monica, I’ll end up working across town in the Valley. In Hollywood, I’m right in the middle.

I think I found a couple of good ones that I will show Circus on Friday morning. Maybe we can just get one and move this weekend. That would be ideal.

It’s so wonderful that I have such a nice place to stay with Betty and Mike; they are so welcoming and accommodating, but I have to get started on my new life here, and the first step is having a place of my own.

I haven’t even been here 5 days yet, and yet it feels like I’ve been here a lot longer. There are many people I miss back in Chicago, one especially, and that is very difficult, but there is so much going on to keep me busy that the days pass quickly.

I must practice patience.

On The Road

Days 1 & 2 of my driving trip to LA:

I don’t really feel like I am anywhere. I’m in New Mexico, yes, but I am traveling at 70 miles an hour. I watch the country pass by, but I’m still in my car! It’s a strangely cool sensation.

Day one went great. I packed from 5:30 am till 2:00pm. But it’s okay, I kept telling myself, because noon is the new 7am!

I tried to pack way too much stuff into my Jeep, so I ended up stopping at Fed Ex and shipping 7 big boxes to myself. I really tried to have all this done before the last minute, but I worked until 7:30 PM the night before I left!

I finally got on the road about 3PM. I just put on some tunes and wanted to put as much distance between Chicago and myself as I could the first night. No turning back now.
I made it as far as Rolla, MO, 400 miles, which is pretty close to where I wanted to be.

Day 2:

Waking up at 6, I was out the motel door by 6:30. Man I couldn’t get out of there quick enough.

Went next door to a place called the Waffle House. You’d think with a name like that, they could make a decent waffle? Uh-uh, not to be. And the grits, swimming in butter? I don’t think so.

Yesterday I drove through MO, OK, and TX, 758 miles to Tucumcari, NM. I like driving so it was easy. I listened to local radio part of the morning, and my playlist for yesterday included Jim White, Johnny Cash, Moby, Buckethead, Joni Mitchell, and some classical music.

If I wasn’t in such a hurry to get to California, I might have stopped along the way at some of the fine monuments along the way. Instead I passed up some fine roadside attractions. I missed Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo, I missed the worlds largest collection of precious moment statues, and the worlds biggest knife collection.

I really did want to stop in Oklahoma City and see the memorial to the Oklahoma City bombing, and the new federal building, but I didn’t. Another time.

I drove for 12 hours, and I was dreaming of a Margarita, chips and salsa, and a hot plate of Mexican food when I arrived. I got into Mountain time in NM, so I gained an hour when I arrived. I checked out the restaurant/bar at the motel and decided to drive through town instead. Well, on the whole 5 mile strip of old Rt. 66 that is Tucumcari, there was only one Mexican restaurant, and there were no cars in the parking lot at all, so I gave it a pass. There were only a couple of local chain restaurants, a Dean’s, and a Del’s, and they didn’t look too good to me either. So many motels; so few food options. Am I spoiled or what?

A disappointing Margarita and some mediocre appetizers back at the motel bar. They were out of chips! This is the southwest, how can you be out of chips? I wanted to ask the bartender. But she was too busy chewing loudly on her dinner at the end of the bar to hear me. “Just a sec”, she said to a new customer at the bar, holding up a finger and shoveling another forkful of food in her mouth. “I’wl be wight wit chew” she said with her mouth full.

Leaving Tucumcari in a few minutes. I’ll be in Phoenix tonight, 650 miles from here.
They have good Mexican restaurants in Phoenix.

Does anyone really care about this?

3.1.06

One small step; that is all that separates me from here, to on my way to there.
Today is the day. If I had more time to prepare, I still wouldn’t be ready. I just have to go.
I’m taking a little more with me than a stick with a bandana tied to the end, but I couldn’t get my computer in a bandana. I always thought my Jeep was pretty big, until I started to pack it.

It’s hard not to think of oneself as the center of the universe, and really, that’s not a bad thing. It’s not as if my life, my trip, and my adventure is that important in the grand scheme of things, but it sure is to me.

Silly interpretive dance # 426: I’m on the jungle gym, the bars you crossed in the playground by grabbing on to the bar in front and swinging to the next bar, hanging a few inches above the ground. Only I’m not a few inches above the ground. These bars cross over a huge canyon. There is nothing below me for miles. I look down into the void, I look up into the sky, and I’m hanging here. I’m afraid. I let go of one hand. I look around again. I could scream, but no one would hear me. I smile. I let go. I fall, but I don’t keep falling. I am suddenly flying, flying over and out of the canyon. I am soaring. That is how I see my heroic journey going.

I’m going to write about my journey here, because I can. Read it if you want. Or go write your own story. It’s up to you.
Peace.

Jim White and the Handsome Family

Jim White and the Handsome Family at the Old Town School of Folk Music
Chicago, IL Feb. 11. 2006

Jim White - http://jimwhite.net/

Okay, how do you answer the question, "If you were on a desert island, what three albums (CD's) would you absolutely have to have with you?"

I usually start by asking, "if I'm on a desert island how am I going to listen to music?” But then I was born sarcastic.

Let's say I have a solar powered iPod?

One of my top three albums would be Jim White's, The Mysterious Tale Of How I Shouted Wrong-Eyed Jesus. A difficult title, I agree, but an even more difficult and complex piece of music. I put this in the category of "perfect albums". Albums so complete and wonderful you can listen to them over and over and never get tired, and always hear them fresh. For me, there are a few albums like that. Brian Eno's Another Green World, Zappa's Hot Rats, (with the divine Peaches 'n Regalia) and Bach's Preludes.

I’ve listened to Wrong Eyed Jesus so many times, and I never tire of it. The music so haunting, the lyrics so beguiling, and Jim White’s voice so soulful. I sometimes listen to it over and over and hear something new each time.

So when I heard that Jim White was going to open for the Handsome Family, I knew we had to be there.

We had just seen a movie by Andrew Douglas called Searching For The Wrong Eyed Jesus, which featured Jim White. It was based on the album, but different. Andrew Douglas obviously liked the album so much he wanted to use it as a starting off point for a film. The Handsome Family appear in the film, in two or three wonderful musical interludes. On one, they are on the roof of a house that is floating along a river. And this was just after Katrina hit.

I wasn’t as excited about the movie as I am by the album, mainly because I wanted to hear more music, but it was a neat film which will be released on DVD in March, so check it out.

But back to last night’s concert. Jim takes the stage, a solo performer with a blond Telecaster and a “band” of digital toys, (Mr. Drum machine, Mr. Looper # 1, Mr. Looper #2). He created these textured layered backgrounds for his songs to ride on with guitar parts, backing vocals and wind sounds, and a little breath powered keyboard. And it’s magical the way you watch him blow a few notes into the looper and then sing along with his creation, right in front of you. A couple of times the digital technology got away from him, but for the most part he was so adept at it that it felt seamless.

Mixing songs from Wrong Eyed Jesus and his new album, Drill A Hole In That Substrate And Tell Me What You See, his set of a little more than an hour was simply magical. He likes to talk and tell stories between songs, and sometimes his between song banter was longer than the song. But I liked hearing him, it added something too the music for me, to know a little bit more about the person I am listening to. Like his story of being rejected by the Scientologists in Amsterdam was inspired.

He alludes to a sort of imbalance in his life, a sort of instability due to his mind working very fast and his need to catch up to it, and all the religious brainwashing he received as a child, and his need to figure it out. But he has such a wonderful sense of humor about himself, that it isn’t sad or scary, but charming. Very charming. A uniquely gifted performer who knows how to tell stories only he can tell. His musical style is wide-open chords, ethereal notes ringing out, layered and textured. He plays effortlessly, almost not moving, his fingers barely hitting the strings. He looks down most of the time he’s singing, and apologized to the audience in the balcony that they have to look at the top of his head most of the time because he “genuflects” while he sings, and thinks about other things.

Signing CD’s and posters in the lobby after his set, he took the time to speak with everyone who wanted to say hello, gracious and gentle, especially with the “2nd grader” who wanted to have a poster signed. Jim gave him a hat from his suitcase of used clothes he sells at his “Jim-boutique” after gigs. “Celebrity - worn clothing at thrift store prices”.
A unique performer you should try to see someday.

The Handsome Family - http://www.handsomefamily.com/

Then the Handsome Family took the stage. Rennie and Brett Sparks. A husband wife duo, joined on the slide guitar by man whose name I just can’t remember. He added a lot to their music, though, playing electric slide guitar, mandolin and violin.

The handsome Family’s music has been described as alternative country and Americana. It is dark and haunting stuff. Songs of ghosts haunting malls, bottomless wells, dead girls, and self-destruction.

The first thing you notice though is Brett’s booming and magnificent baritone. I would kill for a voice like his. How wonderful to be able to sing so effortlessly. He just opens his mouth a little and this amazing sound comes out, so controlled, so pure. Rennie sings harmony and plays bass guitar, while Brett played a beautiful old Gibson acoustic. And just so you don’t think they are too folk music-y, they use a laptop on stage playing a rhythm track to almost all their songs.

The only album of theirs I own is the Live at Shuba’s from 2002, that their website says is now out of print. It’s a very funny show, and I wasn’t sure if they would be like that last night or not. They were a little more subdued, buts till very playful and very funny between songs. They appear very relaxed and comfortable on stage, even when they fretted about playing a new song and forgetting a verse. Their music is easy to get lost in, easy to drift off into the images they create.

The Handsome Family website is a fun place to poke around and get to know them a bit. Reading about their personal lives and past just make them so much more interesting.

Last night was one of the best shows I’ve seen in a long time. The Old Town School is an intimate venue with great sound. The two acts were so connected and complimentary, they worked so well together. It doesn’t surprise me that they enjoy touring together.

Jim White, and Rennie and Brett Sparks all seem to have been able to overcome some personal demons by using humor and music to find a way to themselves. And I am glad they have chosen to share that with the world.

As a musician, as a music lover, as a song writer and as a performer; I was inspired. Thank you.

Going to California. Its time.

There are big changes ahead for me this year. I've never been one to just sit around and wait for things to happen. When I do, I'm never happy. I like action and adventure. So, in a few weeks, I'll be loading up my car, saying goodbye to friends and family, and moving across country to Los Angeles, California. Hollywood - home of the film industry. That's where I want to be. That's where I have to be.

16 years ago, after years of being a wandering traveler and a five-year stint in Europe, I moved back to Chicago. I have really enjoyed it. Chicago, my hometown, city of my childhood and my most lasting memories, is the place where I discovered who I am, met my wife, and found so much inspiration from the friends I have around me.

It's where I learned the craft of filmmaking. I worked for many years as a location manager, got into the DGA, and directed my first feature film. I am known as an independent producer, and closely associated with the IFP/Chicago, having served seven years on the board of directors of that fine organization. Many know me as the producer of the feature film, Cup Of My Blood, directed by Lance Catania, which I brought from a script to worldwide distribution. If you haven't seen it, you should check it out.

I didn’t even know how important it was to me to move to California until I decided to do it. A decision I made with my significant other. The lovely and amazing Kris C. has encouraged me to run off and join the circus! With support and encouragement like that, how could I not do it? With a woman in my life who wants only the truth for me, how will I not succeed?

The Beatles sang, “All you need is love”. Well, what do you do with all that love when you get it? The answer is, you will do amazing things. It's true for me. True for us. True wins! Just gimme the truth! (John Lennon)

Why did Dillinger rob banks? Because, he rightly concluded, that’s where the money was. I am a filmmaker in search of my next film. Los Angeles is where the film business is.

I’m so sorry Chicago; don’t look at me like that, like I’m ah, ah, like I’m a traitor. I can’t take it when you do that. I know I said I would always be a Midwest filmmaker, and I will, I just won’t be in the Midwest! I’ll try to come back, I promise. You know how sometimes people just can’t see you until you go away? That’s what I think will happen. You’ll see.

Like I told someone today, I love making films, I don’t care what my role is, I just love being a part of the process. I’ve produced, directed, written, acted, edited, composed, done foley and ADR, location scouted, P.A’d, made the coffee, parked the trucks, and once, I even got yelled at by a director for not picking up his dirty laundry.

That will never happen on one of my films, I can guarantee you that. People like to work on my films. I take care of people, we have fun, and the work is better for it.

Why leave home to join the circus?

I am moving to LA to be a director, an actor, a writer, and a musician, kind of in that order. I know what you might be saying, how can you do all that? There are so many people there already! Well, I don’t want to hear it. There is only one of me, and no one can do or would do what I do. Yeah, I’m unique and special all right.

I am getting so many good ideas and clear visions for what I want to do there. How I am going to accomplish all this, you ask? I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out. I am not worried that I don’t have a place to live yet, let alone all the answers to all the questions. It’s coming to me. I just trust that if I follow my heart, and live my dreams, the dream will come true.

You see there is nothing to be afraid of, except not doing what you really have to do this lifetime. Identifying it is the first step. For me, once that’s done, the rest is easy.

Years ago I just picked up and moved to France. I didn't even speak the language; I just knew I had to be there. It all worked out pretty well. And when I decided I wanted to be somewhere else, I just moved again. For me, it’s just that easy.

Well, that's the story of my move to Los Angeles. Drop in again soon, as this blog will become more active and posts will appear more often. Maybe even everyday. Wow, what a concept.

Peace out and wish me luck.

Noel

Where does time fly to when it flies?

Six weeks without a posting. My fans scream angrily at me. They cancel their subscriptions and disown me from their on-line life. Oh, the shame. I promise to do better. I will. Happy Holidays to all.

Dear Imad Knipp

Dear Imad Knipp:

You can not imagine how excited and happy I was to receive your correspondence via email today. Oh, heaven must surely be looking favorably upon me. And your generous offer to provide me with Va Lium, Cia Liss and Via Gra at such wonderful and competitive prices! Including free shipping from a far off and distant land to the north of me. Oh, you are too kind.

I too am desperately trying to find a train of thought by screaming into the mouthpiece. Isn't that a coincidence? Anyway, the birthday party was ruined by a crazy Jihad faction that wasn't invited. "Get out of Virginia" I told him in a crazy monotone, "come here and stay cold". He didn't listen. Then you boarded the Concorde for Karachi and flew like the actual unimportant Armbruster that you are. Who will pick you up? Do you have an umbrella? Listen to me. The jackal did this, didn't he?

Double my order. Now cancel it.

Please write again soon. Oh, I am sure of it.

best,

Noel

Costume Awards for Dollar Store Man

Well here it is, another Halloween, and another award for one of my HIGH CONCEPT Costume creations, Dollar Store Man. My prize at Helen and Michael's Party last night? A pound of coffee! Wow, what more could a guy want!

The idea for Dollar Store man came out of nowhere, somewhere in the eighth inning of World Series Game 3, between pitches, it just hit me. So I visited several $ Stores for inspiration and accessories, et voila, a costume that makes you think. What's so scary about dollar stores you ask? Have you been in one lately?

Not since I won two Bears tickets a few years ago dressed as the scariest food in the world, TOFU, have I really dressed for Halloween.

So what will I be next year? How about a successful Hollywood Producer? Oooh, scary!

Red Hot White Sox

Congratulations to the Chicago White Sox and all their fans on their spectacular win in the World Series 2005.

I didn't know when I woke up Saturday that I would be going to Game 1 of the World Series in Chicago. But I did. And I had a great time seeing the White Sox beat the Houston Astros 5-3. I screamed and cheered and booed and drank beer and high fived strangers around me. I know many people are probably reallly mad that I, a Cub fan, who hasn't been to US Cellular Field since it was called Comisky Park, got in. But that's how life works sometimes, and I'm not going to worry about it.

You see, I don't buy into the whole Cubs/Sox rivalry, except when they are playing each other. That in itself is a rather new event, since the invention of interleague play. On those rare six games a year, I want the Cubs to win, as always. So I happily admit, I am a Cubs fan, but I am also a baseball fan.

I love the game of baseball and I love to watch it no matter who is playing. I love to go to different stadiums and be a part of the crowd. Sure I played little league ball as a kid, but I wasn't very good. Mostly I played street ball and backyard ball and spent the greater part of most summers hitting balls around the neighborhood. Most kids did. It was fun, it was cheap, it was a good way to fight with my brother about every other call. " Hey, you didn't touch first!"

When the very long basesball season gets down to the final seven games; each pitch, each hit, each run, seems bigger. The energy in the crowd Saturday was supercharged. This is not just a baseball game. The World Series is an event bigger than a single game, where every pitch counts.

I'm glad to be celebrating along with all Chicagoans tonight. I'm really happy the Sox won. And maybe next year, it will be the Cubs!

A groovy day

Today is my life of Riley day. Whoever was Riley anyway? Anyway, today I wake up, drink coffee, and go play a doctor in a short film. After that, I come back home, work on my trip to LA for a while, and go to band practice later. Acting and music, a good day.

A round number.

Its been over a month since my last post. I do that sometimes; ignore my responsibilites. I know I should write, but I don't.

Anyway, today seems like the day to write again. I have three friends who are born on this day. That's a lot of friend's birthdays for one day. It's the only day of the year I can think of like that. My birthday comes in second, I have another friend who I share that particular day of birth with. Some one somewhere is born each and every day. It works.

So today is a day to write about birth and age. S turns 47, J turns 50, and M is 56. Is there some connection there? Maybe not. 50 is a round even number. We like round even things a lot, don't we? I think if the vote for president were between a round even thing and square odd thing, even would win by a landslide. Why is 50 so important an age? Why do we consider each new decade so important? I've always believed each new year, even or odd, to be the most important. Hurray! I'm still allive - another year. Are these just the ramblings of someone approaching 50?

Kris accused me of being in a mid-life crisis yesterday. Well I am in mid life, but a crisis? I don't think so. I haven't gone out and bought a little red sports car, I haven't decided I have to jump from an airplane. No, I just produce movies, play in arock and roll band and take piano lessons. Is that a crisis?

I feel like traveling to India for a few months, to wander aimlessly in a foreign land. Is that a crisis? If it helps me get to the next big round number, it can't be bad.

Happy birthday my friends.

My Biggest Fear

What's your biggest fear? What scares you the most? Airplanes, elevators, spiders, rats? We all have something that scares us. Maybe even a myriad of phobias? Well, today, I am going to tell you about my biggest fear, the one thing that scares me most of all. I don't think there is a name for this phobia yet? I don't think there is a support group either. But maybe if I talk about it, share my fear, I'll feel better, and maybe others of you who share this phobia will feel better too.

I have never spoken about this with anyone, not even Kris. But here I go...

I am afraid that I will drop my keys down a sewer or a man hole cover grate and lose them, be trapped somewhere without my keys. Car keys, house keys, it doesn't matter.

Have you ever parked your car and then opened the door to see you are next to a sewer grate in the street? What if my keys slipped out of my hand and fell through the holes of the grate? What if, as I were going around to the passenger side of the car to get something, as I opened the door my keys slipped out of my hand and fell into the gutter and down the sewer? Is this unreasonable? Hasn't this happened to others? This scares the shit out of me, really.

But while I admit I am scared by this, I am also very proactive. I have learned to deal with my phobia in a myriad number of ways.

One, when I am looking for a parking spot, if I see a sewer grate or other unnamed hole in the ground near the designated spot, I will keep driving, even if I am late for a meeting with Steven Spielberg. Fortunately, I have never kept Steven waiting, but if I did, I am sure he would understand.

Two, just in case I missed a sewer or hole, after I park, with the car still running, I open my door and look at the street, both directions, sometimes even looking under the car. Satisfied there are no holes nearby, I turn off the engine, and gripping the keys firmly in my right hand, I remove them from the ignition. When I say firmly, I don't mean firm enough to cause the keys to break through the skin of my hand and cause serious injury, but just firmly enough to know that the keys will not fall out of my hand accidentally and fall into some unknown sewer grate or hole in the ground that should happen to appear in my path.

Three, I know where my keys are at all times. As soon as possible I either put the keys in my pocket, which have been carefully checked for holes before I put my pants on that morning, or, if I must hold the keys in my hand, I will slip a finger through the ring and close my finger around it so I am sure they will not fall.

As you can see, I have found a way to deal with my fear in a healthy and sane manner. Unreasonable as my fear may be, I don't let it stop me from pursuing a myriad of lifestyle activities and leading an active career in the entertainment industry.
And being in the entertainment industry, I like to use the word myriad as often as possible.

One of the myriad benefits of my fear of losing my keys down a sewer grate is, I won't drive after I have been drinking. Drinking leads to impaired vision and motor skills, which might lead me to miss a sewer grate and in my inebriated state, to joyfully toss my keys in the air for no reason other than I am inebriated and prone to doing stupid things. What if, in that joyous toss of my keys, I didn't catch them and they fell down a hole? I may not even know in my drunken stupor what I had done? But I am sure the hangover the next day would not be pretty.

What would I do if my keys did fall through a sewer grate? What if my worst nightmare came true? Well, I have thought about that, a lot. I have an emergency key down a sewer grate kit in my car. In it I keep a high powered xenon flashlight with extra batteries, a set of fishing hooks and sinkers, 1000' of hi-test 50 pound fishing line, 3 metal coat hangers, and a crow bar, for removing the grate in case I have to descend underground. Fortunately I am not claustrophobic, afraid of the dark or rats. Those compound phobias would be quite disastrous to my plans.

You know in the movies you always see the hero reaching for something that is just out of reach? Well, If my keys fall and I get a visual on them, that won't happen to me. I'll be prepared.

I feel better now that I have shared my worst fear publicly. And I only hope that if you too share this dreaded fear of losing your keys down a sewer grate, that you feel better too. Maybe you even have a few more precautionary tips you can share with me? Maybe you even have a name for this phobia? We have to stick together on this, and hold our keys tight.

© 2005 Noel Olken

My job this week

I'm working on a television commercial this week. This one is for a national home improvement center.
I love working on television commercials. The pace is so relaxed. The people are so honest and straight forward. Everything they do is thoughtful and based on common sense. They are always so nice to each other. They have the ability to decide something and stick to it. They really commit. You would think with so many different people having to come together to create something, that the decision making process would get bogged down in petty disagreements and bickering, but no, it's the oppposite. They work together flawlessly. It never breaks down like a big three headed monster trying to eat its own tail. Like John Roberts, future supreme court judge, they have no agenda. No agenda but to cooperate and work harmoniously with one another.

And the work, well, advertising in general, and television commercials in particular, are probably the most creative venue available to young men and women to pursue today. Commercials celebrate the independent spirit of America. The brightest and best minds of our generation are working on television commercials.

Haven't you noticed how funny they are? And how visually they push the envelope of cinematic creation? Its inspiring, really, to a guy like me who dreams of one day having a career in the film industry.

And while the midwest is full of talented people, you know the best and brightest of them all, the ones who reallly know what they are doing come from NY or LA. Man, I love working with people from out of town, they have so much to teach me.

And the toys they get to play with? Wow, renting all the neatest coolest gadgets from the rental house is so much fun, even if they never get to use them because they ran out of time. Why we only get to work 18 hour days isn't fair. We should keep going. Like on music videos. They really know how to party on set!

It is going to be hard next week when this job is over and I have to go back to making my little feature films. Oh well, I'll deal with it, I guess.

Where's the bank?

Peace, y'all.

2 True Stories

These are good. The first one comes from my friend Lance M, who plays Alex in our film, Cup Of My Blood. He told me he got a call from a friend of his serving in the National Guard in Iraq. He called from Iraq to tell him he and his buddies had just watched a bootleg copy of Cup Of My Blood. The video isn't even out a week yet and pirated copies are in Iraq. The good thing is, and I think its cool, just like Disney and Universal, we are being affected by global pirating. We've made it to the big time! The even better thing, the service men & women liked the movie. Hey what's not to like?

Story # 2 - So I go into my local Blockbuster Sunday to see if any of the DVD's are rented and how many are still on the shelf. I turn the corner and look at the shelf where they are, just as a woman is picking one up. She reads the front, she turns it over, she reads the back. I'm just watching, wondering what she'll do. I don't say anything. She turns it over again, she's thinking. She keeps it and walks away. I actually walked in at the precise moment to see someone rent our film. That was so cool. 2 of the 4 DVD's at that store were out.

Peace, y'all.

The DVD is on the shelves

Okay, enough of all this tragedy, I got something really important to talk to you about.
Yeah, that's right, after almost two years of work, I got a movie on the shelves of video stores across the country.
Well, not in certain Parishes in the south, but hey, when they get their DVD players hooked up and running again, I'll send them some copies to take their minds off the fact they just lost everything they ever had.

But the rest of you people out there can buy or rent it. Cup Of My Blood! Check it out!

That's me in my local Blockbuster on opening day checking it out in the store!

Just like Catch - 22

The scene down in New Orleans reminds me of something out of Catch 22. Milo Minderbinder (played by George W. Bush in the TV series) sells the country on a tax break and a war, promising that it will make us safer. With his trusty side kick, the head of Homeland IN-Security, they fly about the country spreading the good news! Oh the hi-jinks they get into.

When a little storm hits a small Southern and mostly black part of the country, and people need help, safety, and the security George promised them, they reach out to George. He's not there. No one is there to hear them. (They must be on vacation.) But then, finally, emergency kits are provided. Help trickles in. They open the emergency kits - but they're empty except for a small piece of paper. The paper says, " Good people of America, all our resources have gone into saving the good people of Iraq. Doesn't that feel good? We all win by building a stronger, Democratic Iraq. You have a share. George".

Oh George, you joker!

How's your vacation been this summer?

Mines been pretty good. But we've had a drought up here.

Can you help us?

I Wish I Was In New Orleans

My thoughts go out to all the people in FL, LA, MS, AL and everywhere affected by the hurricane Katrina. I have fond memories of the winter I spent in New Orleans; playing music on the street (and getting arrested for it) playing in a strip club, eating lots of red beans and rice (a buck a plate, can't beat it!) hanging at a cafe called "Until Waiting Fills", selling Mylar balloons at the Mardi Gras Parades, (How Much? Keep walking!), living in Amzies attic, getting completely wasted on Mardi Gras, and finally hopping a freight train out of town with Jane (sex on a moving freight car, as I remember, was not all its cracked up to be).

Those two months were magical, and I will never forget them.

I'm listening to Tom Waits' song, I Wish I Was In New Orleans. It is so beautiful, and is one of those songs that I always sing to myself; more this week than usual.

I only visited New Orleans twice after that winter, once when I was traveling with Nirvana, my Italian girlfriend, (we got the crabs on that trip - probably from the flea bag motels we stayed at) and once when I was in a traveling theatre company and we had a weekend gig in N.O. It was Bourbon St with an expense account that time, and I think we had a good time.

I want to go back to New Orleans when they rebuild. I want to see it again. I'm going to donate some money, and I'm going to think about those people down there and send them some positive energy. I hope they come through this. I want to be at the first jazz Fest in N.O. when they resume. I'm gonna drink a Hurricane!

"Make sure there's a Dixie moon,
New Orleans, I'll be there."
from I Wish I was In New Orleans by Tom Waits

Katrina - you're a bitch!