Entertainment Journal

You can read my articles for the EJ in PDF format. My lousy picture and bio are there, too. Let me know what you think.

Knock Knock

Is anybody here? It's been a long, long time. I can't say no to any project that comes along--even if it doesn't pay that well--so I haven't had much time. When that happens, my contact with the online world suffers. It's amazing that I haven't been here for months and yet I still average nine visitors a day.

Let me just fill you in on what has been keeping me so busy. My business has really picked up--strictly word-of-mouth advertising. I'm working for a local girls soccer club that has fourteen teams, some of which are highly ranked in the country (one is sixth in the whole nation). They have me shooting a lot of their games. It's a good deal for them but it's getting me some exposure and practice. On top of that I have a great relationship with two producers in town who throw work my way every once in a while. I just finished an eight minute video for a title company seminar and I'm working on a dvd production of a play I shot by myself with two cameras.

The seminar video kept me up all night last Sunday. My editing schedule was frequently interupted by soccer games and other responsibilities so I found myself working all night the night before the video was due to be proofed. I pushed on through the night, catching the late, late, late movie, Pushing Tin, (it didn't impress me much), and a Tony Robbins infomercial along the way. At one point, I turned the channel to see that the local morning show hosts were up already. I checked the clock and it was 5 am and I wasn't ready to have my work approved. I kept going until 7 am and dumped it to tape so I could bump it over to dvd at work. There wasn't enough time to author it and put it on dvd at home. I got the boys up and took them to school and I went to work. Everyone at work has waited until today, when I look alive, to tell me I looked like death warmed over on Monday. I stumbled around all day drifting in and out of consciousness. Then the incident happened.

Now, I have a special place at work where I can pull a George Costanza--you know the episode where he has a carpenter build a place to sleep under his desk. Behind my editing console is a place where I can stretch out and catch a light snooze with no one detecting me. Sometimes people will come in, but they always see the room empty and leave. At about noon, the fatigue was becoming almost painful. It was my lunchtime and my next client wasn't due until 2pm so I crawled back into my cubby and drifted off. The next thing I remember, I'm standing up and shaking hands with my client. It's now 2:10 pm. I learned later that the scheduler had been looking all over the building for me until he found the photographer who knows about my hiding place. Then he went into the bay, hurrying lest the client come in to find me snoozing. It took him almost a minute to wake me and by that time the client had come in. "Did you find it?" the scheduler asked me, hoping to cover. The client didn't buy it. "What are you doing back there?" he chuckled. Luckily, I've known him for about six years and he likes my work, so nothing I do bugs him. I made his commercials in a haze, like I was still coming off a drinking binge. I'm not pleased with the result and I took twice as long as I usually do, but he liked it and that's all that counts.

I didn't go in yesterday but I was up late again last night finishing up the project. I did get some sleep, though, and I felt a lot better today.

The title company emailed a few changes, but it looks like I can wrap that up and get paid. Now I have four days to get the play finished and send out the invoice. Things might slow down enough for me to pay more attention to this blog, but, frankly, I hope not. I need the money. I want desperately to get out of "survival mode" as a former NBA player described my financial situation a couple of weeks ago. It's what's known as living paycheck to paycheck, and I can't wait till I'm done with it.

In addition to all of this, I've been writing for a local newspaper. I'll post the articles I've written soon. I actually get to invoice for that, now. I guess till now it's been a free gig but I'm told that they're making a profit (after only their third issue!) and they want to pay me. It's not much, but so what. I really enjoy it.

Well, thanks for sticking by me, the nine of you. I really appreciate it and I appologize for not giving you something to do while you've visited.

Busy Busy Busy

The blog's looking a bit messy. I changed ISP's and I've been slow on the uptake. I had two weeks to get all the photos and other hosted elements off of my old ISP's server and I just didn't do it. So now I have to round everything up from multiple folders on multiple computers and disks--a task I find more than a little daunting.

On top of that, the downpour of opportunities has begun. My business is starting to pick up. In the 10 years of editing at a tv station in Salt Lake, I've made some pretty influencial friends and contacts and that's starting to pay off. The local girls' soccer club which is fourteen teams strong has asked me to produce a twenty-five minute video for them; I have other editing projects in the works as well; In addition I have written my debut article for the debut issue of the new Entertainment Journal distributed throughout Utah and expanding to other states(I have three hard copies of the newspaper to prove it) and I've been asked to do two or three more each month--I have a week to get the ones for april done; I'm supposed to be writing the video open and DVD sleeve for the fourth in a series of Utah historical videos right now. The producer told me just yesterday to "get off your ass," because he wants to start editing right away and we can't do that until I've written the open and sent it off to be read for the voice-over. (What he doesn't understand is that I really should be "on my ass" when I'm writing. I didn't tell him that.) All of these are paying gigs. All of them are overwhelming, but not nearly so as the demands of my kids who dug a hole in the yard next to our house exposing the sprinkler system. It was research for a book my 9-year-old is writing called Digging Holes. I've read the rough draft: "A hole takes a while to dig." Pretty good so far, though it needs some fleshing out, and since I won't let him do anymore research in the yard, I'm not sure the book will get finished.

My mom says my dad has been jumping on the mini trampoline since his treadmill isn't working. I think he's supposed to be resting but I know that he'll either long outlive me, or he'll exercise to death. There's no in between.

Dad

My Dad has always been a little larger than life to me, invincible. Always very athletic, he has either run or worked out with weights almost every day that I can remember. A couple of years ago he retired from a job that required excellent health, a rare thing to happen. Very few people reach 65 in that position--security guard at nuclear testing facility--because they can no longer pass the physical training exams. But that was never a problem for my father. Even in my adult life my 5'6" tall dad towered over my 5'11" frame in my mind. I've always been confident that he'd outlive me. That's why the call I got a few days ago stunned me. My mother told me he had had a heart attack. He'd started having chest pains and decided to work them off by lifting weights. When that didn't help, he shoveled snow off the driveway. The pain only intensified so he went to the doctor. I wondered if I should make the drive up to Idaho Falls to see him, but every one was saying that it was very mild and I wanted to wait to find out what action would be taken before I used sick time so I could optimize the time I'd spend with him. Then yesterday we found out that there were far more blocked arteries then the one that the doctor had expected. He said it was more like six or eight. What's more, one of the chambers in his heart was no longer pumping. I told my boss that I needed the rest of the week off and I drove up here to Idaho Falls. I went straight to the hospital and found that he looked a lot better than I expected. He feels better, too. We talked for a long time. The doctor still hadn't come with the results of the tests they'd conducted this morning so my mom, my brother, and I went to dinner still not knowing what might happen. The news is better now, though. I just learned a few minutes ago that the chamber had sort of shut itself down to preserve itself since it wasn't getting any blood. His heart is still perfectly healthy. They still haven't told us whether they're going to perform bypass surgery but that a pretty safe bet, I imagine.

The shock is starting to wear off and this news has helped. I don't know what I'd do if I lost him, but at least I've been given a chance to tell him how I feel.

Supersized

I've seen the movie, Supersize Me, twice now. Superb! It reminds me of Moore's style, which, while I don't agree with his politics, I like a lot. None of us at work are going to eat fast food anymore. We'll see how long that lasts.

It's not as if I'm not busy enough--maybe that I just like to punish myself--but I've been offered something on the side that I can't pass up. My emmy-award-winning, national-television-syndicated, film-reviewer friend is starting a regionally distributed magazine (Utah, Nevada, California) and has asked me to be the music editor. It pays next to nothing, if anything at all, but it's a great opportunity to get my resume going in the direction I had intended when I got my English degree. We're off to the Sundance Film Festival, press passes in hand to see one of the concerts that'll be there this week. I didn't know this, but music is big at Sundance, what with all the bands vying to get their music into films. I'm nervous. I don't fancy myself the best writer, but, as Norman R. Augustine said, "Motivation will almost always beat mere talent." Wait a minute...motivation? Oh, hell. I'm in trouble now.

Opportunity Knocks

But I can't find the door. I didn't realize the consumer video business was so cutthroat. My buddy got a gig following a high school dance team through their season. The coach is a friend of his and when she found out he was doing that kind of thing now, she called up the company the school has always gone through to tell them she was no longer in need of their services. "You know you have to buy the state competition video from us, don't you?" they shot at her. "Your guy won't be allowed in there." We all scoffed at that. Who would keep a couple of guys trying to make an honest buck out of a state dance competition?
We're not laughing anymore. Apparently this other company has a monopoly. No one else is allowed to do business with any of the high schools in the state. How is that possible? What happened to the great American capitalistic concepts like competition and free trade? It looks like the only way we're going to be able to shoot the state comp is to sneak our cameras in and look like proud parents. I didn't realize there was a consumer video mafia in Utah.

Then there's the wedding video crowd. Weddings are huge business in Utah and it seems like everyone and their pet poodle is doing the video thing. There's a wedding expo every year here that costs $700 for a booth. That's understandable. I can deal with that. What I can't deal with is the fact that only five videographers are allowed in, and there's a waiting list with 85 companies on it.

Every novel idea I come up with already has 50 people doing it. I'm not into this struggling for the legal tender thing. Why can't making a living be easy: I do a video that I think looks good and people pay me. What's the matter with that business plan?

The Snow's Here

And I'm going to pummel the local weather man who said we wouldn't get any down here in the valley. Yesterday my buddy and I were cheering him on like he was playing in the Ute game against Pitt. Then today I get up and there are three inches of snow on my car. Lying jerk. If you're going to make that much money to prognosticate, you'd better be right.
And why are there so many accidents on the roads when there's a snow storm like this one? Why do people who live in Utah, whose license plates say "The greatest snow on earth," think they can drive the way they would if the roads were spotless? I don't mind a little slowing--in fact it's necessary. But the roads become shopping mall parking lots because a most of these idiot Utah drivers think snow isn't slippery or that having four-wheel-drive will help them stop when they gotten themselves in deep crap. One guy hit the wall on the side of the freeway and another had stopped in the middle of the right lane and was standing outside talking on his cell phone. OK, that's enough of that.
Princess Rufflebutt is eating again! She'd lost two pounds last week, which, for a twenty-two pound kid, is a lot. That's almost ten percent! We found out that we've been exacerbating the situation by giving her milk. The throwing up stopped and was replaced by the worst case of diarrhea I've ever seen and we were making it worse with the milk. But she wasn't eating anything. I don't know how she's been surviving. The doctor told us to give her anything she'd eat and drink, even soda and cookies. We are and she is going to town on those things. I'm afraid she'll never eat real food again. She's her happy, chatty self again, though, and for that, I'm grateful.

Still on the Road

Another mile marker passed. There's a theory circulating among a few of us at work that time seems to be speeding up lately, and it sure seems to be true. It seems like the millenium came and went just a few days ago.

2004 leaves us with a tragedy that boggles the mind. I can't believe that so many people have died in the Asian tsunami. It's hard to watch the images depicting all of the carnage. I can't imagine what it must be like to be there.

We're a little worried here at home; Princess Rufflebutt acquired some kind of illness a few days ago. For about three days she's thrown up everything she's eaten or drunk, and until today she hasn't wanted to eat anything at all. It's as if her tiny body has developed a sudden disdain for nourishment. All she wants is to be held by me and me alone. She doesn't want her mother, just me. I like the attention, but it makes it hard to get anything done. She's getting better though. She didn't vomit as much today as she has been and she's been playing and bringing me books to read to her. It's a relief. There's not much of her to waste away by not consuming anything.

The rest of the family is doing well, though. We had a great Christmas--Santa was very good to us--and I think 2005 is going to be wonderful. Happy new year!

Let it Snow

Odin pointed out that my pictures of Downtown Salt Lake just before Christmas don't have any snow in them. Wow! He's right. I don't know why that didn't cross my mind, except that maybe I'm getting used to the drought here. When we first came to live here ten years ago, the winters were more like they were where I grew up: Snow that buried our car completely and took hours to dig out. I don't miss it. I like not having to shovel the driveway. When it does snow, I just have to wait a couple of days for it to melt. But, like I said, it wasn't always that way here. When we managed apartments, I broke my back shoveling the yards and yards of sidewalk. On the freeway, watching everyone else drive at insane speeds, it was I, the safe driver, who spun out, ending up facing the wrong way in oncoming traffic. Of course, I've never ended up at the side of the four-lane road, my car stuck in the white stuff, waiting for a tow truck.

Snow has always been a part of my life. I grew up on skis, though I don't do it anymore. I've never had to pay as my dad has always been on the ski patrol. Now that I do have to fork over the cash, it doesn't seem worth it.
Our yard was always piled high with snow in the winter. My friends and I would jump off the roof of our two-story house into the drifts and I would dig deep tunnels down in the trampoline hole and make forts. One year the tunnel collapsed on me and I spent nearly an hour digging myself out. Scary.

Now...I could do without it. I know I shouldn't say that, what with the drought and all. But there it is.

Merry Christmas!

Downtown Salt Lake City is pretty this time of year. The family and I went to Temple Square (where the Salt Lake Mormon Temple is) on Monday night and I took a few photos. Dinky Jr. got his mug in one.

The Humor of Sarcasm

Sarcasm as humor only goes so far. It's the staple of most of the relationships I have outside of my family, though. It doesn't carry much weight at home, but at work, an outsider could have no clue that my buddies and I love each other. We're constantly giving each other the bird and calling attention to each others' faults. It's all in fun. We know that. Until, that is, you add a few pressures to the mix. My last appointment of a long, migraine-inducing schedule today was a three-minute interview show--commercial, really--geared toward seniors. It's a simple three-camera live-to-tape shoot that I direct. Actually, I do a lot more than direct. Most shows have a director, technical director, cg operator, and tape operator. I do it all for this thing. It's nothing that will ever go on my resume but it makes money for the station so we keep doing it. It's one of the reason's I am known as the resident "Turd Polisher." We'll frequently have many starts and stops because the client being interviewed is so scared, or looks like a chipmunk. And today was no exception. The problem, though, was that I wasn't my usual professional self. I forgot to "black" the record tape all the way and when we finally finished the first good take, there was nothing to watch on the playback. So I blacked the tape. For your information, it takes more than three minutes to black three minutes' worth of tape. First of all you have to walk over to the tape machine and rewind it to the point at which you want to start recording. Then the machine starts a five-second preroll which takes a few seconds to set up and five seconds to roll. Then you have your three minutes. But you can't stop there. You need to lay some pad. Liking to be safe rather than sorry, as the adage goes, I like to give it a good chunk of pad. All told, it took about six minutes to get the job done. When I got back on the headset, and gave the standby, at least two members of the crew let fly with absurdities like, "how long does it take to black three minutes of tape?" and, "Don't you know how to do an assemble edit?" (I won't go into the the terminology here.) They were so persistent and insistent that my sense of humor vanished. Rather than letting go with expletives (I knew there were clients within earshot) I immediately shut down my emotions and issued commands in curt, daggerlike thrusts: "Standby. Ready camera one. One's up. Cue him. Two minutes." When it became apparent to the others how pissed I was, no one else ventured to say anything except twice, when I heard, in very hushed tones, "I love you . . . ." I didn't respond.
We finished the second take. I started playing it back. The video was great. The talent was talking. There was no sound. I had forgotten to route the audio back into the machine after blacking the tape. This time the cussing escaped before I could stop it, albiet it was whispered. After that there were other screw ups by the talent and the client, but they were all my fault, because if I hadn't screwed up before, they would have had the chance to now.
Finally, I was able to play back a whole take, audio and everything. I almost started bawling.
As for the crew. . . we're still friends.

Wedding Bells

I'm officially a wedding videographer. This is the first one I've done and I couldn't have asked for a better couple to practice on. They're both very laid back and accomodating. Whatever I choose to do is ok with them--so far, at least. The trick now is to find time to edit it.

There were a couple of funny moments. It was very cold--20 degrees, I think--when the bride appeared outside for her pictures just after the wedding, and someone noticed that her shoes weren't traditional. She hiked up her wedding dress to reveal a pair of pink sneakers and long underwear. Later, when she threw the bouquet, she put a little too much oomph into it and launched it into the light fixture about 15 feet above our heads. If it turns out, it might show up on America's Funniest Home Videos. She got a new bouquet and threw it.

Long Time

It's been awhile. I've kept a journal for most of my life and it seems like every other entry begins that way: It's been a long time, I should catch up.

I got my own production company going. It's called Runaway Productions. I've got the professional equipment and the business license and even some cards. So now it's full speed ahead. Except that it's not. A friend of mine who's known as a cameraman got the same camera after I did and he's getting jobs all over the place. I've yet to bill for one project. I handed one of my cards to M ar|< Eat*n, the former pro baseke+ball player, and he laughed at them. "Did you make these yourself?" he asked. Then he pointed to the line at the bottom that says, "over 17 years broadcast television experience," and sneered, "Oh, look at that, 17 years experience." I wasn't sure what he was getting at. I wanted to tell the 7-foot-four-inch jerk to get down on his knees so I could kick his ass. But I didn't want to cause a scene by hurting him right there in the studio.

On the home front, Princess Rufflebutt is getting so grown up. She's about 18 months old now. The other day she saw one of her brothers lift up the toilet seat and pee. The next thing we knew, she was standing with her diaper off next to the toilet, the rim up to her neck, trying to take a leak too.

In other toilet-related news, my wife told me a while ago that she found my four-year-old bathing right there in the bowl. He's very small for his age--not even in the running percentile-wise--and I guess it was a good fit.

Have a good one.

Movies

My new favorite movies are, in order, "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and "Shaun of the Dead." Wonderful. Just wonderful.

Video Student

It's been a while. Sorry I've neglected all of my friends in the blogosphere. I've been cramming, trying to learn all this video and graphic editing software I have now. I've tried the user manuals that came with the programs but they're useless, having been written by someone who obviously hasn't talked directly to another actual human being for years. I can't afford the "Total Training" discs, priced to put an independent startup like myself out of business. So I've been struggling. It helps that I have 17-plus years of linear editing experience, and that I'm a computer geek by nature. Slowy, surely, the knowledge is coming. I want to be ready for my first project, whatever that may be, but, note to the universe, don't let that stop the projects from coming in. I'll be able to handle them.

This is all pretty exciting. Now if I can just start paying for it.

Music and Video

Got the new Tears for Fears disc, "Everybody Loves a Happy Ending." There's a debate raging about it at the station. There are several of us who are consummate Beatles fans and for some of the guys, the extensive "references" to the fab four's music throughout the disc. Personally, I love it. I think it's a great homage, almost a new way to approach Lennon, McCartney and the others. But the other guys think it's too much of a ripoff, of blundering through sacred ground. I must admit that the orchestral wind-up on "Who Killed Tangerine" sounds almost as if it were actually sampled from "A Day in the Life." But the music is so good, I don't mind. Orzabal's lyrical prowess approaches genius. So get it, dang it!

I have my edit system all set up, the software all registered and paid for. Now I need a camera. In case anyone can help, I'm looking for a good price on a Panasonic AG-DVX100A. I was just in a hot auction fight on ebay over a DVX100 and I lost. Someone edged me out at the last minute and got it for a heck of a deal. All I can do is keep trying.

Quit Looking at my Cards!

Our family has discovered Go Fish. We all gather in the living room, the boys sitting across the room by the wall after attempting to sit directly behind my wife or me to see our cards. We've changed the rules a little. Instead of asking, "Do you have any fours?" we ask for the number and the suit. It makes it a little more interesting. During the course of the game, there are nearly-constant accusations of cheating. It's hilarious. Last night we were in hysterics. It went like this:

Six-year-old J: B, Do you have the A of hearts?
Eight-year-old B: Go fish. Ok J. (Dramatic Pause) do you have the A of clovers?

At this point J would start screaming, "You looked at my cards! He's cheating!"

This happened anytime any of us asked for a card he had. And you should have seen hime when he guessed correctly which cards we had. He'd dance around, singing, "I got the card I needed." Of course he wouldn't pursue the matches and lose them all the next round. We also had to watch him closely to keep him from asking for cards he already had.

I never knew go fish could be so fun.

Editing

I know, I know, I'm a slacker. Lately blogging has not been my top priority. Work is picking up and I have some added extracurricular activities now. After watching my friends who aren't professional video editors buy equipment and make gobs of money doing side projects, I figured I'd better get in the act. So I took a chance and borrowed some money and built a screaming Windows-based machine and editing software and a camera. So now I'm focusing a lot of my time to learning the software and figuring out how to make this equipment pay for itself. If anyone in the Utah/Idaho area needs a broadcast quality wedding video or anyone anywhere else who would like to send me their old home movies and pictures to be made into a fun DVD, email me. I can beat nearly any price.

Hopefully I can find time to keep this going here. It's been a lot of fun. But duty calls...

Go Away, Frances!

I just wanted to say good luck, Florida. I hope Frances does an about face.

You Draw Some More

I'm really getting a kick out of this You Draw thing. My favorite artists there include E.D., Lamb, and nikki mk. They're just great. I wish I could draw like them.