Winged Creatures

The budget was low, but the talent was way high. I was an “onlooker” on a feature called Winged Creatures.

I was early. I parked. I got shuttled. I found holding. I ate breakfast. I was forgotten.

I ventured forth to get my voucher and almost ran into Forest Whitaker because I was looking at the ground rather than where I was going. Wardrobe squared me away. I changed into something more boring. I went back to holding.

Where I waited for a few hours. I’m still reading that book about the Wars of the Roses. I thought I’d finish it during this gig, but I actually worked this time.

Or… Well… Here’s what’s kinda weird. And this was a surprising first.

During the first scene I worked, I didn’t know I was actually working. They grabbed all the onlookers, brought us to set and placed us. I ended up the deepest, but I was standing on the ledge of a planter with a tree in it. I thought that was kind of fun. I’d never been elevated above everyone like that before.

But then as I waited for the scene to start, I got bored and started making laps around the tree.

No, I’m not kidding. I was walking around in circles because I was bored and it was kind of cold outside. Around and around and around. I was practicing keeping my balance on the 5″ wide ledge while not looking down at my feet as I walked. Around and around and switch directions and around and around.

Then, the AD called lunch. Huh? Whuh…What?

As I headed toward catering, I asked some of the other extras if any filming had happened because we’d been out there for a couple of hours. Apparently, in the background of Kate Beckinsale, the director wanted us extras too look natural as we struck up conversations and stuff. All the while I’m learning this, my head’s about to explode! They were filming while I was doing laps around a friggin’ tree!!!!!

I never got yelled at for it so I’m assuming that either they couldn’t see me or I was so deep that the movement didn’t look stupid. I dunno. But my mind is still reeling from learning that they were filming while I was walking around a tree.

Yeah. Nice.

After lunch, though, they started cueing us and I got to use my stupid walk around the tree and hop off to move closer to the action. During the course of that, I ended up directly in the path of Jeanne Triplehorn and Dakota Fanning as they left the hospital we were working in front of. That was pretty cool.

And thank goodness I wasn’t still walking around that damn tree!!!!!!!!!!

This was one of those gigs I really gotta laugh about, though. I mean, I got paid to walk around and around a tree. All I can say is wow, I love Hollywood!

Types of Car Guys

Types of Car Guys…
While posting in a Mustang forum the other day, I had a tangential thought that had nothing to do with the forum or what I was posting. It just randomly landed in my brain and had me looking back over my automotive life.

The early years were spent in autoshop. It was there that I intensely learned the types of car guys through the school of hard knocks. Not that I’m grumpy, I’m most certainly not. I love guys and find them fascinating. Hell, I’ve been told I’m “more of a man than most men.” And it has been wondered if I’m a lesbian because I’m not into traditional girl things. Well, if I’m a lesbian, why do I hate chicks so much? Why would I prefer to be around guys and cars? I guess I’m just wired different. Oh well. Such is life. In fact, it keeps my life interesting to say the least.

Although still off my original topic, that brings me to something else I gotta share. One guy say to me, “You must be a dude. You have a dick, don’t you?” Before I could say anything, my ex-boyfriend said, “She doesn’t have a dick. She’s got five. She keeps them in jars as trophies.” Same guy who said I am more of a man than most men. It has been about a decade since then. I wonder if I’ve girlified since then. I still have the jars–err…uh…never mind.

Anyway, back to my topic…

In no particular order, I started thinking about the various car guy types I’d met. From the old guys who’d seen and done it all and really didn’t give a shit anymore. To the young bucks dripping with so much machismo, they slipped in their own puddles.

But it wasn’t always about age. I think it was a confidence thing.

As evidenced by my little Car Guy Types here:

There were a few–maybe two or three–guys per autoshop class who were genuinely excited about having a girl in the class. They wanted to take me under their wing and teach me a thing or two (or three or four) about cars and for that I’m greatly indebted to those few men who for the most part were surprisingly not trying to date me, or if they were, didn’t show it. I did date a couple of these guys because I’m attracted to people I can learn from. And what better way to learn than from someone as passionate as I was about cars? Plus, there’s always the added bonus of working on cars together and cracking jokes about honing my master cylinder.

Next are another favorite of mine… The guys who genuinely didn’t care that I was a girl and treated me like one of the guys. There was the occasional, “You wrench like a girl.” type jokes, but I love ’em. I loved those guys because they also helped cultivate my deep appreciation for dick-and-fart jokes while teaching me a thing or two or three about cars.

Now we start getting into the other, less fun types…

And there are two subsets of this type. Both hated that there was a girl in the class. She didn’t belong there no matter how smart or how capable or how much she liked cars. She was a girl and should be playing with dolls or something. (Little did they know, at home, I was collecting antique dolls and now I restore them as well as I restore cars.) Anyway, one type I put up with because of the nature of their affliction. The other I simply avoided like the plague because I didn’t need the bullshit.

On my first day in bodyshop class, during break, a guy sat down next to me. I’d been hiding all the way in the back of class. I never know if I’m walking into an ambush, so I just hide until I know who feels what about having a girl in class. Anyway, this guy plunks down next to me and says, “So why are you here?” I reply, “Uh…To learn…” Duh. Why else does a person take a class? He says, “Yeah, sure. You’re just here to pick up guys.” I stifled a pretty hard laugh. I mean, doesn’t every girl pick up guys in autoshop rather than engineering or business, or even music or literature? Sure. And every woman knows mechanic’s hands are always so clean and silky smooth. Uh-huh. Yeah, like a rasp or a cheese grater when sculpting bondo. Niiiice. Like the business end of a cylinder hone. Mhmmm… Oh yeah, now there’s a great exfoliant.

But that set the tone for my in-class relationship with the guy. In essence, I avoided him. Just as I avoided the guys who said, “Isn’t there a kitchen you should be cleaning somewhere?” Bullshit. I suck at cleaning. Always have. Just ask my mom.

So, you have the guys that are just really irritated that there’s a woman in ‘their domain’. They try to sabotage every now and then, but I’ve also found that they are often pretty stupid. Which makes them more pissed off when I get around whatever they put in my way. More bullshit just triggers more avoidance. Who needs the anguish? Besides, success is the best revenge.

And finally, there’s the guys who like the other sub-set are upset that there’s a woman in the class. She doesn’t belong there, but she’s there and he’s gotta deal with it. And by golly, there’s no fuckin’ way she’s gonna score higher on the test or fix a car better. No fuckin’ way. No sirree. He’s gonna have to show her just how much smarter and how much better he is.

And that’s why I put up with those guys. They learn the most from the class and about life while trying to outdo the chick. I wasn’t there to impress anyone but myself, so I really didn’t care if a guy felt he had to do better than me. Quite honestly, I’ve always been book smart and the autoshop tests were pretty easy for me…which made ego guys work harder to learn more. I always had one of the top three or four scores on each written test. And seeing a guy go from a D to a B during a semester was always a joy.

Same for working on the cars. I wasn’t always that great. I had lots to learn about how things went together and stuff. That was when the ego guys could and often did show me up…and I learned a lot from them showing off. For that I’m thankful.

So there you have it. Toolwench’s take on the types of car guys. I still think it’s a confidence thing. Women are guilty of it, too. There were times when I did want to show that I had a clue what I was doing. I do get irritated when I rumble up in my Mustang and some asshole says, “Hey, is that your boyfriend’s/husband’s/dad’s/brother’s/uncle’s car.” I do sometimes feel that I have something to proove, but I choose those battles wisely. I know where I stand in my car knowledge and lack thereof. I always want to learn more. That will never change.

And, no, it’s not my boyfriend’s/husband’s/dad’s/brother’s/uncle’s car. It’s mine!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jericho (2)

First gig of the year, can you believe it? I barely can.

Anyway, I was booked as a ‘prisoner’ on Jericho. When I got there, I discovered I had a new distinction as one of the ‘new’ prisoners. I figured whatever that meant was more likely that I wouldn’t be recalled. No big deal. I rarely ever am.

I parked. I was shuttled. I ate breakfast. I got my voucher. I went to wardrobe.

The wardrobe girl was awesome. Lots of energy and way cool. She like what I was wearing, but needed to give me a coat because us prisoners were supposed to be dirty and she’d have to dirty up the coat. As soon as she said dirty, a million red flags went off in my tiny little brain as I flashed back to the head-to-toe fake dirt dusting I got whenever I was on Carnivale. It was always so bad that I was blowing it out of my nose for, like, three days after the shoot. ‘Course on Carnivale there was fake dirt and tons of real dirt, too, because we were usually shooting on dirt lots or on stages with dirt dirt covering the floor.

I was given a leather coat and instructed to go stand in the hair and make-up line. (There were about thirty of us there. Not a huge call.) While I was in the line, a sweet girl came running up saying I needed to go back to wardrobe because they accidentally gave me her coat. Whoops! They were all apologetic and I really didn’t care. I kinda thought it was funny. Plus, I didn’t really like the leather coat. It was stiff compared to the ratty one they gave me instead–which was already pre-dirtied. That was nice.

In the hair trailer, the lady put some goo in my hair to make it look oily and dirty. Then, the make-up guy dusted me with dirt-looking powder. Face, neck and hands.

I was now ready to go.

And I was brought onto the set almost immediately. I grabbed my book (I’m still working my way through a book about the Wars of the Roses. I haven’t had much time to read lately.) and headed through the mini-backlot and onto a soundstage where the prison was set up. Following instructions, I parked my ass on a bench in a cell…and started reading while I waited for the festivities to begin.

I’m pretty sure the camera couldn’t see me at all during those takes. Whatever. I just kept reading until we were instructed to go back to holding.

I read some more.

Finally, I was called back to the set and as a ‘new’ prisoner, I got to be in motion down the hallway.

And then the plot thickened… I was to be walking with one of the principals. I got to follow ‘Maggie’ for the next few hours. And if I don’t actually make it into episode 20, I’m definitely all over the cutting room floor because there were only about five of us in that part of the scene.

The gal playing Maggie, I believe her name is Erin, is way cool. She talked to us like we were real people, not scummy extras. A few of the high points were her excitement about how she got the fake blood that was on her shoe…squibs. It was her first time getting “shot” and she was so excited her enthusiasm was easy to share! And at one point, Skeet and her goofed off between takes and she said something along the lines of “We have lots of fun here.” I had to agree that it showed. Everyone on the crew was awesome.

The special effects guy, Tom, even introduced himself to various extras and laughed along. The A.D.’s and even the director were very laid back, but also down-to-business. These are the best kind of shoots because it makes everyone feel like part of a team even if only for a day.

During one of the tighter shots, I was even given a mark I had to hit and the A.D. treated me great. I was so glad. Sometimes, extras get totally talked down to. I hit my mark spot on every take. I hope I didn’t suck so hard that they intentionally edit me out. Whatever. I was just glad to be there and have the opportunity.

After that scene, I didn’t work the rest of the day. I just read my book or talked to other extras in holding. When I was wrapped, it had been eleven and a half hours since I’d arrived. I was glad to be leaving and glad I’d spent the day.

Ironically, as I left, the traffic sucked so hard I turned right instead of left, which sent me down the road where Blaina and Jay from Driven To Distraction met. That was a very nice ending to a long, but good day.

Drove to Florida… almost 3K miles… again

I’m trying to post more often, but in that, I end up posting less often. I don’t know how that happens, but anyway, this time I do have a reason. I was gone for a week. I’d done the journey in about 4 days before, but this time, well, things went a bit differently.

I was driving a fully loaded ’85 Cadillac Seville. Yep, that was 135 horses of purebread slowness, following a motorhome towing a trailer–which could smoke me on accelleration! Oh yeah, I was feelin’ sassy in my Cad-O-Lack that had been sitting for about ten years and probably should have been towed, but what the heck, I only live once.

And when Bobby Ore asks if you’d drive for him, the only answer is yes. So I did.

But the car kept breaking down. No surprises there, huh?

30 minutes in, radiator blew.

3 or 4 hours from there, the smog pump belt broke–and it was brand new!

Another 3 or 4 hours from there, we limped into a shop.

…Who among other things didn’t tighten down one of the radiator hoses.

Another 5 hours from there, that radiator hose came loose and sprayed the brakes plus the windshield. Nice.

Limping into another shop got everything patched up, but I think we were both still wary.

The rest of the trip went off without incident. Which was refreshing, I might add!

Somewhere during the first bit, we pulled off to glue the rearview mirror back on. But given that I’ve unsuccessfully done 4 and have a propensity for having them come off in my hand when I adjust them, I let Bobby do the glueing and then I decided to wait a few hours to let the glue dry.

Well, hours turned into days because I completely forgot!!!!! This pic was taken during the last 200 or so miles of the trip:

One of the reasons I forgot about the rearview was because I was concerned with the sideview mirror. The passenger side one was good as gold, but the driver side one… Well, I dunno what was going on with it other than it wasn’t really connected to the guts behind it. Over the course of the first thousand miles or so, I finally set up this sophisticated method of getting it to stay properly aligned. It was quite an engineering feat considering I had nothing but a couple napkins to work with…

All in all, even though it was hellish, the trip was worth making. I mean, if nothing else, it can serve as a memory of times much worse. I survived just fine. A little worse for wear, but the car made it to Florida in one piece after those first three days.

I forgot to take a picture of the car itself…Duh…I know, I know… But here was my view from Los Angeles to Central Florida:

Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment, but I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.