The Swag Count

One of the things that I hated about leaving jobs like the record store or the movie theater was the free access to movies and cds. It was an access that got me into movies I would never have watched if I didn't work there or music I wouldn't have even known about. (Never in a million years would I have noticed two of my favorite bands, The Cherry Poppin' Daddies and Sex Mob.

I was feeling sorry for myself and my cut of swag gravy train when I realized I was unloading swag from my van.

So to alleviate my lust for free stuff, I thought I'd run down the swag count from my current profession. So far, I have gotten:

Various collections of snack foods including bags of candy, bread, peanut butter, crackers, and on one occasion two giant bags of Chips Ahoy. Unfortunately, Chips Ahoy is kinda nasty.

A van load full of lumber. This actually isn't the first time I've been offered lumber, just the first time I actually accepted it. I was feeling a little lost during the Trading Spaces shoot and wanted to be as accommodating as I could be and taking the wood seemed like it would help. Besides, even though I'm not 'handy' my roommates are. They don't seem to know what to do with the lumber either, though.

Two crates full of cleaning supplies. Some of that stuff I didn't even know existed. Those who know how I live aren't surprised by that...

Voltage Detector. Oddly enough, that thing has come in really handy. And no one expects a PA to whip one out.

Two pairs of gloves. Also, very handy. These where given to me after two weeks as a grip without gloves-that's carrying and setting up stands and mounting lights that are sometimes very hot. I didn't know I was going to be a grip nor did I have any idea how to be one. Now it's my only credit on IMDb.com.

T-Shirt and hat from the Speed Channel. This is actually the only swag type item I've received, and that was on the first go.

I was kinda hoping to score a pair of boots from the ad, but ah well.

It's not a bag of cds every week, but it'll do.

The Other Me

Confession, of a sort. I am, to a small degree, an identity thief. So to speak.

Here's the story-

Safeway has those club cards, or whatzits, you know the deal. I had applied for one a long time ago, and a slightly shorter time ago I lost that card. That's pretty common-they let you put your phone number in lieu of the card.

Here's where it gets tricky. I used to not have a phone. None what so ever. It was a bill I couldn't and didn't want to maintain. I didn't care. I did have phone numbers fleetingly-I'd get a pager for a couple of months or move into a place that had a phone or whatnot. But when I lived by myself I had a phone for a very short period of time before I didn't. Though that didn't stop my phone from ringing one day asking me to take a survey. As an exchange for taking the survey I asked the guy what number he dialed. Until the phone company killed the line all together, I had a phone number. I couldn't call out without a calling card, but people could call me.

So fast forward again to the Safeway Card. I knew I had one a long time ago but didn't know which number I had given-I often give long since dead phone numbers on things for several reasons, some good, some bad. So, at the register with only enough to cover the sale price but not enough time on my break to create a new card I started entering numbers that I had until one worked. The phantom number worked.

I figured that was the number I gave and started using it when I bought stuff at Safeway. That is, until the cashier stumbled through trying to pronounce the name she thought I had. Turns out that the phantom number had been reassigned to someone who also had a Safeway card. Rather than getting a new one I just decided to reassure my checker that how ever they decided to pronounce the name was indeed correct and bail.

But as I used my last five bucks (and 'borrowed' Safeway Card) today I looked down at the receipt-sometimes I try to make a go at pronouncing my benefactors name-and looked at the buying stats. It seems that my alter ego likes the Safeway sandwiches and occasions the Safeway Starbucks.

I've eaten a fair share of sandwiches at Safeway, but not common enough for me to care about the sandwich club deal, so I've never noticed. But I wonder if my 'card buddy' does-does he notice that he got to the free sandwich faster than he should? Does he even notice? Maybe he's as cavalier about the sandwiches, too. Maybe he, too, doesn't notice. I wonder what the marketing for him looks like, do I skew him-him me?

I think I might start tracking my grocery doppleganger. I don't mind that my shopping reaps him some awards, it seems a fair exchange for me not having to fill out a new form and remember what phone number I gave.

Trading Spaces

Right, we have this thing.

I've been gone for a while and haven't had internet for a while. I just wrapped (well, last week-I'm lazy, okay?) on Trading Spaces. Now, for the most part I don't actually post what show I specifically worked on until it airs because of these things I sign that tell me not to-but Trading Spaces had the name one the side of their truck. What a relief to not have to lie and tell people, "We're doing a documentary."

I'm finding that often the more I'm paid the less that I do. I'm sure that people will tell me that's the way the rest of the world is. That just makes me wonder why everyone kept telling me that laziness wasn't good...

Stupid Lego...

This won't make much sense or be much of a post, but...

The Lego constantly breaking down wouldn't be so irritating if it wasn't consistently breaking parts that Veronica doesn't even have...

Just when movies caught up with reality shows, reality shows took a giant leap forward. If I hadn't taken the Bunny job it'd be even worse. I'd feel bad about littering the world with reality shows if it wasn't for the tenancy for the ones I work on not to air...

On the plus side I've hit the 'magic' (even if it's only magic to me) 10th paid gig. Now I'm two away from 10 paid gigs where the term 'paid' isn't euphamistic...

Sometimes...

Sometimes, I have a very juvenile sense of humor, which is why I want this movie poster:

One Career Goal Down...

I done got me a page on IMDb.com.
As a grip, no less. Granted, it's for a movie no one is likely to see, but I never made that qualifier...

Now I need a 'written by' and a 'directed by' credit...one step at a time...

Sandwich Idea & Random Notes

A website for cell phones that lets users rate and comment on specific business, like "This Jack in the Box is stingy with the dipping sauce, this Cheveron won't give directions without having to buy a map (the instance that brought this on). Users can either log on and find a place that has good comments to do what they need on the road or check to avoid places that has stingy or just ass policies or employees. Or, if they're pissed off, tell someone about it. I think a lot of places don't give a shit about 'return business' because most of their business is transient. They can be dicks because by the time you find out you've already spent your money and you're gone. Franchises are supposed to curb this by offering a same 'standard' everywhere, but like a lot of things, that's a total sham. This is a way to punish the piss-poor and reward the cool.

It's raining like crazy right now. It has been for a long time. While I appreciate the readiness of the PG & E, but the trucks just waiting out front somehow not comforting.

The big gray Hum-Vee that lives around here is driving around in the rain, perhaps looking for situations that require a giant truck. Perhaps he's hoping it will be someone in a hybrid so he can use up that lecture he's been saving up...

Thank You Easter Bunny!

So one of the things I'm finding about my new life is that occasionally I'm free to take an 'off topic' job. In this case, I'm making a sort of return to one of the best jobs I ever had. I'm a children's character-this time the Easter Bunny at the Tanfranan Mall in San Bruno.

It's not quite like my old Ninja Turtle job. I'm a lot more anchored, I don't have any magic tricks or parachutes and I don't get to use the raspy surfer voice. (Which is good, because apparently I can't do that anymore without coughing.)

I gotta say, I like working with kids again. It may be influenced a bit by the fact that I know that on the 14th I don't have to do it anymore and I can go back to crew work, but what the heck. I'm having fun so far, but it is only the second day.

Sous Rature will point out that kids are just like adults, they have the same chance of being cool or little jerks-and the little jerks don't have the empathy thing really developed yet. But I have had a chance to revisit some things.

I wonder what adults the kids will make. What of the shy ones, that have to be coaxed into shaking my hand or 'petting' my 'paw.' What about the ones that want to be older, too cool to acknowledge the bunny. What about the little girl who couldn't stop waving, laughing and dancing, but didn't want me any closer than three feet? (probably has a good sense of smell, it was day two for that costume...) Or the one who wouldn't leave my side? What about the screamers, the starers? What about the caretakers, the older sisters who would step in and attempt to calm a fussy brother on my knee?

It's interesting to see how often the photo is for the parents versus how often it's for the kids. I sympathize with the kids, I've never been able to fake the smile either.

I don't ever remember 'believing' in the mall Santa or Easter Bunny, or Mickey Mouse at Disneyland or Bugs Bunny at Great America...I knew it was a dude in a suit, I just didn't care. When we go to a play we know that the actors aren't really a couple of arguing college professors (though, sometimes they are, but you get the idea). When the kids see me they don't look into the eyes of my giant bunny head, they look at the screen in the mouth. They know that mouths shouldn't have screens in them and eyes should blink, they just don't care. It's not the Easter Bunny, it's a dude playing the Easter Bunny for them.

For adults, the world revolves around their kids, but I think it's hard to imagine that kids don't always see that and when they find things that are just for them, especially in the mall where they don't want to try on that cute outfit a fifth time, they're thrilled. They don't know 'suspension of dis-belief,' the nature of performance and space, the role of audience and art. They do know that the man or woman in the giant bunny costume is waving at them. Specifically.

Maybe the criers think I'm real. Maybe they know I'm not and have decided that a man in a giant bunny suit is not to be trusted.

So far few mallrats have opted for a bunny photo, I'm prohibitively expensive. I await the prank, I can only hope it's good.

Some Stray Thoughts Inspired by Recent Personal Events

First, I give my traditional apology for being out of circulation for an excessive amount of time. My reasons will become clear in this post.


On Friday, March 10, at 5:17 PM PST, my cousin Wendy Valdez (nee Jiminez) died. The specific circumstances are not important at the moment, and I will not go into the details. Suffice it to say that it was a shock that affected my entire family and a number of friends profoundly. Wendy will be missed by all who knew her.


I have lived a life that has shielded me from mortality for the most part except for the last few years, and not with the intervention of overprotective parents. My family is long lived, and my friends have been lucky. This has not meant that I haven't contemplated death, both my own and those of the people around me. My cousin Jeff (Wendy's brother) and I have been discussing the matter since we were old enough to understand the concept. When we were teenagers, we swapped our desires as what we would like done with our remains. At the time, I had two alternatives, presented here in order of preference:

1) My body should be cooked up and served at my memorial service.
2) Barring that, it should be carted into the mountains, unembalmed, and left in a shallow grave, subject to the natural forces of decay.

In subsequent years, I have rethought both, but the essence is the same. Cannibalism has its own complications--medically, socially, and emotionally (for some people)--so that's a wash. Option 2 is out for various legal reasons.

However, I have since formed strong feelings about the matter that I am much better able to articulate.

A traditional burial has numerous problems. It involves embalming, which is a largely outdated practice. It takes a body out of the natural cycle of decay for a very long time. It invokes additional expenses that I see as unnecessary--my family doesn't need to go to extraordinary expense simply to memorialize me; I'm gone, they're alive, and I'm not going to know the difference; my family could use the money more than I can.

Cremation is the option that a lot of people in my position take. It's cheap; it's easy to imbue the death with the necessary significance by spreading the ashes in some meaningful place. Virtually every atheist I know opts for this path, and I can see the reasons. However, I have a major philosophical objection to the whole process.

The chemical processes associated with all living things produce a lot of complex organic molecules. This is, in some ways, the work of life. We build proteins, amino acids, ATP, sugars; all of these things are transferrable, in whole or in part, to the various bacterial and animal life that are the forces of decay. Cremation reduces all of this complexity down to a pile of relatively common molecules (mostly carbon) and two things that are relatively plentiful in the universe: heat and light. Heat is the ultimate destination of all the energy there is--it's the end product of entropy, and, if many cosmologists are correct about the value of the cosmological constant, where everything is ultimately going to end up. Why help it along? Why not rage against the dying of the light? Nothing cheats death forever, but we can at least contribute the the team's effort--help the cause of life hang on just a little longer.

But how? It seems like lawmakers and the mortuary industry conspire against such an end. The answer for me (barring an "accident" transporting my body by private airplane over impenetrable wilderness or international waters), is the Body Farm, a forensic anthropology lab that essentially gathers data on the process of natural decay in order to facilitate criminal investigations and further the sciences of physical anthropology and archaeology. This has the added bonus of contributing to the body of scientific knowledge in a field that I know and respect (my mother is trained as an archaeologist, which is where I lost a lot of my squeamishness about human remains).

Anyway, it's all food for thought--and worms.

The Job Search

I wish I could say I've been busy.

Anyway, being a freelancer has meant that I'm pretty much always looking for a job. But you all know that. But I don't know if you know exactly how amusing it can be.

One of the biggest pain in the asses is the amount of people willing to do my job for free and the number of people looking to not pay people like me. As you can imagine this leads to some frustration when you see under 'compensation' things like:Copy, Credit, Meal. Which leads to posts like this guy's:

Skilled DP & editor with gear, a couple of awards & broadcast credit seeking landlord, health insurance provider, car insurance company, utility company, grocery store, etc who accept "exposure," "screen credit," or "DVD copies," as legal tender. Don't miss the opportunity to provide these services to me, since one of these ridiculous, poorly thought out projects by some pathetic "idea person" wannabe trying to sucker me out of services (since they apparently can't be bothered to learn these skills themselves) is bound to pan out! Think of the bragging rights possibilities!

Under compensation? " Basking in the sunshine of my love. "

You also get to see things like this every once in a while:

SMALL BUTTOCKS FEMALES NEEDED TO MODEL NEW LOW RISE PADDED PANTY

Sexy Backups ltd is looking for females with a small buttocks problem interested in modeling our amazing new low rise padded boyshorts. The photos are for our website. When you wear Sexy Backups they look exactly like normal low rise boyshorts so it will not look like you are wearing padded panties. There is nothing else like Sexy Backups in the world. They are a new invention.

Or this:

Outie Bellybutton Models -- If you have an "Outie," please read this

Girls... Ladies... Women... Ages 12 to 32...

If you have an "Outie" bellybutton, please respond for paid modeling gig.

No modeling experience necessary. Amateurs and first-timers are encouraged.

Under 18 will require permission of parent or guardian, of course.

All ethnicities welcome.

This is NOT an "adult" job.

Thank you.

Sometimes I want to call just to have these people show me the finished product.

At least one goal has been accomplished, my work (or at least the search) is interesting...

Sandwich Idea

Boot chains. Sort of, like a cage for motorcycle boots. Racing boots have little studs on the outside of their boots, I think a little metal cage for the soul of a riding boot would be handy, certainly lengthen the life of your footwear, which can take a beating on a motorcycle. I suppose that you could put a little flint in there or something so you can drag your feet and make sparks. But really, it's for boot life.

This might already exist, I just didn't know how to look for it.

Reality Political Cartoon

Symbols Run Amok.

One of the things that I did a lot as a dramaturg for other playwrights was to find meanings of plays or, if they lacked it, make one up. The latter was my favorite, especially when you saw the author suddenly decide that, indeed, that is what he meant-or does now. (Just as often, just for disclosure, I'd get the "what the hell play did you just read" look.)

So if I read too much into this eagle thing, it's because I used to have to.

Complacency, entitlement-

a feeding program that for nearly three decades has drawn hundreds of eagles to feast each winter on handouts of herring, halibut and salmon.

Impact-

the national symbol of the United States ... has become a chronic troublemaker. The big birds of prey, as large as 12 pounds with maximum wingspans of 7 feet, electrocute themselves on power lines, gouge each other's eyes out and make themselves sick by snacking at the town dump. They also eat the occasional cat and small dog.

From another another source...
Sucker for the photo-op-

If you've seen close up photographs of bald eagles with fish in their beaks, odds are they were taken in the Homer area.

Leaving options limited-

"I've interviewed several people that said, 'I've handled my problem after my chicken coop was raided several times by eagles,' " Bailey said. "I said, 'How's that?' [and they said] 'Well, with a twenty-two.' "

Interestingly enough, the Fox News report excludes the impact of the Eagles on that town.

Just puttin' it out there.

Et tu, Lambo?

Lamborghini has moved onto the retro world with it's new concept Muira. I'm not entirely opposed to the retro designs of cars, anything to put some distance between now and the designs of the eighties and nineties.

But where are the Colin Chapmans, the Harley Earls (as a footnote to that, Buick ain't foolin' no one-this was not being done by the ghost of the guy who gave us this) Where are the Dr. Ferdinand Porsches, the Enzo Ferraris? (Incertus had reminded me a bit ago about an ad from childhood that asked, "Why does every Ferrari that leaves the factory do it on Goodyear Eagle tires? Because Mr. Ferrari wants it that way." With Enzo getting out of a pristine Ferrari. The man had presence.)

Each of those designers had a personal aesthetic, something about the way they designed their cars that let you know, that is a Lotus, that car is a Porsche. Be it an attachment to aircooled engines hanging off the back of the car, 12 cylinder engines, light weight, an affinity for the 'rocket age,' these where cars with a stamp on them, something that made their cars their own. The Jagaur E-Type is in both The Smithsonian and the New York Museum of Modern Art. Even a remake of that car (which supposed to be Jaguar XK-R) wouldn't be able to do that.) It doesn't seem likely that cars today are going to have that impact.

That's not to say that there aren't some interesting cars out there with distinct looks. The big grill look is in, with Chrysler, Volkswagen, and Audi being the most notable fans. But even that is throwback. There is the new Pontiac Solstice and the Saturn Sky, and even some of the new retros are kinda cool.

But we don't have that one passionate designer that considers engineering a car at least in part an art form. Maybe it's just the change in the nature of the car company, the shade tree days of Colin Chapman's Lotus overwhelmed by the merger riddled mass market. No one designer has the control of a Harley Earl, no one aesthetic survives the marketing department unless it's something that theoretically has worked before. (I sometimes get the impression that the manufacturers think it was the silhouette that made their cars a classic.)

It's hard to call for an independent in a industry like automobiles. Even my preference for the little guy would have to take into consideration where I'm going to get those parts. (a question I easily forget to ask when buying vintage cars, so hey...) And it's not like Earl was working for a cottage shop. But it would be nice if all the creativity wasn't focused in after market and hot rod shops.

Unfortunately I have no ability to influence the industry since often I can't buy the magazines these cars are in...so I'll just bitch about it here...

Psyche!!!

Remember when I talked on and on about how you might see me for scant seconds on a UPN reality show where I was part of a crew that was filmed getting a party started? Psyche! So the show didn't actually make it to the episode I worked on. Making it so far two reality shows I've worked on that have never aired and one that I just finished. Now the last one isn't likely to get cancelled so unceremoniously, but the episode itself could end up being bagged. I'm not into the show enough to keep track of when it will air and neither me nor my vans will be in it, so I don't care.

One of these days I'll work on something people will watch...("M" is still up in the air, the bad news is that right now they have an intern doing the job...so that's not great...)

There is a chance that The Lego will beat Veronica to the big screen, but we all know who the real star is, so it's all good.

I was going to post more pontification, but this was just too funny, to me at least, that I had to put it up.

Why Unicorns Would Be Dicks

We've all seen those damn posters and sticker, with the unicorn jumping over a rainbow or being ridden by a maiden or whatever. For the most part unicorns are benign creatures of good and kindness. I call bullshit. Here's why.

Let's look at some of the creatures that live today that if they existed only as stories, we'd think they where magical.

Peacocks-If these birds didn't exist, we'd think they where crazy magic, what with their colorful fan of feathers and such. We grew up in a town that had a park that had free roaming peacocks. What anyone would tell you who has encountered a free roaming peacock is that peacocks are jerks. They are mean-spirited birds who don't car if you have bread crumbs or not, they are going to charge and peck you. Kinda scary when you're four and about as tall as they are.

Pandas-Also an animal that could be magical. Vicious bastards. (As a side note, the panda is in the symbol for the World Wildlife Foundation. I think that there should have been a square off-Someone from the WWF vs. a Panda. Quality)

Koala-Little jerks.

platypus-Poisonious!

All I'm saying is that horn is for something, and it isn't to hold your donuts. All the animals that would be all magical if they didn't exist are assmunches. It only stands to reason that the unicorn would be one, too.

Don't Park in Cars With Boys!

Another from Archive.org, asking Are You Popular? Like all good cheesy ephemeral films, there is a lot of unintended subtext. "Maybe they'll bring home another couple. That could be fun." Is Jenny's popularity because "...she is as interested in girls as she is boys?" Makes you long for a pair of robots and a dude trapped in a satellite.

Enjoy.

Network Debut...

There could be a debate over whether or not I had intentionally forgotten to post about this or if it really was just something that I never got around to. But the episodes where not aired in the order that they where filmed and now if I don't post about it I really will just being purposefully coy. For some reason gratuitous plugging (if it really can be called that) seems less poserish than intentional coyness, so here it is.

A show I worked on will air next week on UPN, which is only the second thing I've worked on to actually be seen by anyone. The movies are in post-production and at least one of them is likely to never be seen by anybody, and the other show I have no idea what's going on. The documentaries are doing what documentaries do, struggle. But the soul crushing giant machine that is reality television, that monster can't be stopped (except of course the one I did that never aired...)

I call this one the Network Debut because I'm actually in it. I know this because I saw myself in the promo that was on right before The Simpsons. They filmed the crew doing all kinds of things, and so for a brief second you see me running all over an art gallery laying contact board. Yay.

I was actually filmed a lot, but I don't know how much of that will be used. I did my level best to not be interesting every time the camera was near me, but who knows.

So if by next Tuesday you just can't muster up the interest in the 20th hour of figure skating and for some reason feel like watching a reality show on the fractional chance that I'll flash by ever so briefly, tune into UPN's Let's Get This Party Started at 9pm. For those who know what I look like it will be pretty freakin' easy to pick me out. If for some reason there are readers who don't know what I look like think of it as a game to figure out which is me. I pretty much don't look like anyone else on the crew. That's the only hint you get.

How to Fake Being a Sports Fan When You Really Just Don't Care

I had that conversation today, the one I have stored up with variations for those situations where it's more convenient to fake the funk than to explain that for some reason I just never developed an interest in sports. Maybe it was because I sucked at all the popular sports, maybe it was because my dad sucked at explaining things. Who knows.

(There is a caveat, I love racing. Love it. But I can't even really hang with other race fans for the most part. I'm not the biggest fan of NASCAR but find myself often in the unenviable position of defending it, because for all the rest of its faults it is close racing-and that's the sport, the racing-not the spectacle. Well, for me...)

But since racing isn't often the topic of conversation (and never when it comes to sports cars) I'm left to feign the interest.

Women get a pass in this category. Women, for good or for bad, are not expected to be sports fans, so if they pick a team in a seemingly random fashion it's expected. If the woman is, as is the case with many of the women I know, an actual sports fan she is like a godsend to the sporting male.

But for a dude, the first sign that you're posing you're worse off than if you had just admitted that you aren't a sports fan, because they just wasted precious seconds conversing with you as if you where worth the trouble. So as a dude you have to carefully build your lie. Here are some helpful tips that I use to stall the conversation so that I'm not labeled "unclean" by the traveling crews or whatnot-

Root, Root Root, For the Home Team

This seems pretty obvious, sort of a 'when in Rome' kinda idea. But here's the thing-if you're rooting for the team of the town you're living in it can seem a little poserish, it certainly will raise suspicions...and dangerous follow-up questions.

But a lot of us don't live in the same place we where born. You can pick a team that would be from a town you used to live near. For basketball, I am a Kings fan because they came to Sacramento while I still lived there. Easy explanation, no questions. Failing that, a parent's home town. Family legacies are an easy explanation. Which brings me to my next one-

Blame It On Someone Else

The afore mentioned parent, some environmental influence like a school organization that was dominated by fans of one team, whatever. I've found that a lot of 'real' sports fans have come to their teams this way, so it actually seems pretty believable.

For that, I am an A's fan. The high school band was dominated by A's fans, as was the record store I worked at. I am a 49ers fan because my dad was an avid fan. Even before when they sucked the fist time...which brings me to my best one-

No One Questions a Loser

Even legit fans of teams that are good have to defend themselves, and the fake sports fan doesn't want to have to do that. But when you're a fan of a team that has only won five games in the last two season, no one questions you. They express sympathy, maybe they'll console you-even feed you a few lines that you can use later about how the team can turn itself around. But if you're a fan of a team that sucks you can sometimes even come off a more of a fan than others. It's like a dream. The worst thing that ever happened to my world of deception was the Kings turning things around. As I understand it they're back on that downward slope, which puts me back on easy street ("Man, you guys where right there, then fell apart..." "Yeah, bit of a heart break. Just give us a few years, we'll be back.' ah, the 'we,' as if I would have any effect on the outcome of the game...)

Hatin' is the Key to happiness

Once you've found the team you're going to pretend to be a fan of, you have to find out who the rival is. Usually it's the cross town team, sometimes it's not. Sometimes they don't have a clear rival, which means you have to come up with team to hate. Hating a team is almost as vital as liking one. For me, it's the Raiders. I've sold tickets to too many Raiders games to like that team. Knuckledraggers comin' in wanting those $15 50 Yard line tickets that exist in thier head...

Disliking the fans, maybe a coach, maybe just remembering a criticism that some loud yay-hoo said on the radio or some channel you flipped by, hating another team puts that icing on the cake to make you look like a fan.

Now, you're still going to encounter questions and maybe even people will want to have an actual discussion with you. Here you're going to have to step up a little. First, once you've picked the team and the reason you have to make that the conversation. Don't know what they've been up to? You've been busy. Or just agree-sports fans don't so much ask an opinion as tell you thiers. Agree, or use the alternate opinion someone else gave last time as a rebuttal. Then you have to drift the conversation to something tangential, or let the other sports fans in the room take the ball. Before you know it, you're invited to the after work beers. Which, if you don't drink, brings up it's own issues...

There, never say we never did anything for ya...

Proposed New Laws

If you botch parallel parking more than two or three times, you have to give the spot up to the next person.

It is possible to have your horn privileges revoked.

There should be a picture of a zipper on every "merge" sign.

Creation of a 'tourist lane' in areas with lots of tourists.

...

For what it's worth, the Dodge Caravan is the most functional minivan, the Buick Lacrosse at the very least has a more powerful feel and better appointment than the Pontiac G6, the new Malibu Classic feel more plasticy than my old Malibu Classic, and they won't let me drive the Mini. Bastards.

This would be a lot more interesting if it weren't for the confidentiality agreement I had to sign. Another benefit to working film or documentaries, I can actually talk about what I'm doing. Though with all this "I'd tell ya, but I'd have to kill ya" nonsense now makes me chuckle when I listen to Nancy Sinatra's Last of the Secret Agents, which is a song I just discovered. I'll make a separate entry about the sudden fascination with Nancy when I don't have to get up early to drive a van full of lighting equipment. (Curses, I wanted to work in camera or sound...the lighting person seems sour, the sound person was a fellow Banana Slug...How in the hell do so many Slugs get work? Vocationally UCSC wasn't the greatest school...)

Obligatory response to virtual stimuli

Four jobs I've had:

1) Standardized test grader for K-12 students (trust me--standardized tests mean nothing)
2) Textbook reader for blind university students
3) Pewter figurine finisher (the only job to result in scarring)
4) Freelance in-home tutor in London, England

Four movies I'd like to see over and over (I really have to include those films that I actually have watched over and over):

1) The Royal Tennenbaums
2) The Straight Story
3) Young Frankenstein
4) Crash (not the Lynch one)

Four places I've lived:

1) Folsom (and not ashamed of it)
2) London
3) Sacramento
4) San Francisco

Four TV shows I like to watch

1) Scrubs
2) Arrested Development
3) Daily Show/Colbert Report (using the Walrus option here)
4) Deadwood

Four websites I visit daily (I gotta cheat this a little--I only visit the first one daily)

1) Hotmail (kinda cheezy--I know)
2) The Onion (when it updates)
3) Wells Fargo (I love that I can obsessively know exactly when my rent check clears)
4) IMDB (I don't have to buy those giant Moviehound books anymore)

Four places I'd rather be:

1) Between my ears
2) London (not an anglophile, not a snob, but that is one cool place)
3) Flotsam
4) Portugal (although this is purely a theoretical interest as yet)

Four People to tag:

I have to bow out of this one, as I am currently living within a closed reference loop within the blogosphere.