Rich and Famous Contract

 I have new dreams. I just keep going back to film making. I love it. I love the creativity.

I know it's not true that there is a standard rich and famous contract like Kermit the Frog gets offered but I think that's what I was expecting before. Now I just want to create and tell my stories!

 

Here is Kermie's big break:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7LJp73pNFU

Yes, Dorothy, looks like we are in Kansas

Before we left Greeley, I used my computer friend's Internet connection to help find future lodging. I knew our chance of survival was thin without much money so I looked up people on AOL (now true strangers, not someone I had befriended over time over the Internet).  I emailed a whole bunch in Topeka, Kansas (our next stop) and tried to find "interesting" ones who we could interview for the documentary - at least that was our cover story.
One man sounded the most interesting - collected guns, into military do it yourself living in the woods, wonded his own business and a boat.  Luckily, he was the only one who responded and left a message on my voice mail.
From Horton and filling up our bellies on the reservation, we drove to the Holiday Inn and met him there. Arnold and I were both expecting a man with a beard, ruffled hair, beer gut, in camoflauge with a riffle in his hand.  Basically scary.  As we walked into the lobby we heard, "Carol?  Arnold?"
We both turned around and noticed at the same time that he was completley gorgeous. Wayne was clean cut, shaven, wore a button down shirt, jeans, cowboy boots and a big smile.  We joined him as he sipped his ice tea.  I told him I was curious to go to a Honkey Tonk. So I went into the lobby's bathroom and changed into a dress and let my hair down.  Arnold said I came out looking all pretty just to try to seduce Wayne.  I ditched Arnold and the dog and jumped into Wayne's corvette - they followed behind in the Neon. 
The Honkey Tonk was closed - I forgot it was Monday.  So he brought us to meet someone he thought we might like to interview - a single mom living as an immigrant from the Phillipines.  I expected to interview immigrants at some time on thier experience, just didn't think it would be in Kansas!
We interviewed Josefina on her couch then turned our camera's onto Wayne. His profile on the internet made him sound fascinating but the interview was just so so. Whatever. He was nice and we had such a great time hanging out with him. Plus, he was such a kind stranger that he put us up for the night (our ulterior motive in the first place).  He let us sleep on the boat.
Admittedly, I don't know much about Topeka, but his boat was not in a lake. It was a storage place. We didn't care.  The cabin of the boat had air conditioning which he turned on for us then bid us adiu (after telling us how to turn it off in the morning).  We were blown away by his hospitatlity, and cuteness, and would talk about it the rest of the time - Arnold is still mad that I ran off into the corvette - obviously, my fear of being killed by strangers was long gone.
Mandolina couldn't climb up the ladder so I tied her under the boat. We slept great, especially with the air conditioning and being in a real bed.  In the morning I do admit peeing at a nearby bush - the bathroom wasn't set up for a storage bin!  Now I know why they don't want people staying in those places - no facilities - gross!  We took footage before we left and had Arnold pretend to be the boat's captain!
In the morning we headed for Oklahoma - a place I always wanted to see since it was once the "Indian State."  Arnold grew tired of me singing "OOOOOOOOOOOklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin down the plain" throughout the entire state.
Our first stop was the bombing site.  This was 1998 and this was the biggest terrorist event, at the time. I wasn't sure if we should go over to the memorial with the dog but I'm glad I did. She gave us a great opportunity. 
We were walking along looking at the momentos people had left and the statue of Jesus, when a little boy started petting Mandolina. We began talking with his father, Jim Derry (excuse me if I didn't spell that right, I can't read my notes well but I'll get it right when I post his interview).  Jim and his wife, if I remember correctly, worked at the federal building and this young boy had been in the daycare. He survived, but had many arm surgeries.  I didn't think they'd want to remember that day, but they were here at the site with some friends and politely answered all our questions.
After that sobering trip, we went onto the Oklahoma toll highway, driving as much as possible in the dark since the drought made it unbearably hot. Around ten we stopped for a late supper.  The woman who made our sandwiches answered all my questions but I'm not sure if I filmed her or not.  she impressed me.  She said she was one fo the few young women who took care of her own baby, her mother, and her sister's children.  She talked enthusiastically about her church group and their recent trip to Mexico.  Her voice cracked and tears crowded her eyes as she talked about helping the poor people there.  I was speechless. Here was a poor woman herslef in a land threatened by drought and she still had enough to give to others. It was so different from Hollywood which was dripping in glamour and gold but little time to help all the children in the Los Angeles ghettos.
It was too hot to attempt camping so we found a cheap motel. Dogs were not allowed but we parked by our room and ran over and she pranced along next to us.  We hid her in the bathroom as we brought in our bags from the car. Soon she got used to this routine and seemed to be as sneaky as I was as we dashed into hotel rooms. Some were harder to hide her in than others.
This was the Native American state so I thought I would see some. Nope. Only statue head busts at the Inidan Hall of Fame.  They had Geronimo, Pocahontas, Chief Joseph, and Jim Thorpe and anyone else that their sign said "was friendly tot he settlers"  I always wondered about "unfriendly Indians".  Would we put that down as road rage nowadays? And why are only "friendly Indians" in the history books? A thought for another day.
One of the busts was empty so Arnold stuck his head over it and we imagined it saying - Arnold, Ojibwe, filmmaker.  This was his one and only film but I know he's a writer now too. Go Arnold!
Mandolina enjoyed the walk of fame too - the fountain. She jumped in!  Poor dog, the heat was wearing her long blond hair down!
Oklahoma did provide a gem.  I had made an appointment with the Apache Tribal Council and they let us walk right into their library.  Ms. Darrow showed us pictures and told us the story of the Apache fighting and surviving.  She also metioned that Geronimo was her grandfather.  We just sat there and listened to her stories about her life and her husband that she adored and could have sat there forever.  She even sang us a song and blessed us before we had to leave.  Don't worry - I'll post that interview for sure.
We discovered that interviews take a long time and are usually so interesting that the hours fly by. Yet, we end up hungry.  As we drove out of Oklahoma and into Texas, our first stop was for food.  Then we kept driving until ten. I was disappointed to see that we were back in the big city -  Dallas.  Smog, traffic, heat. I was trying to get away from LA, not find an exact replica.
We stoppedat one cheap hotel. The sign said no dogs and as I parked under the awning, Mandolina woke up and stuck her head out of the window. The manager saw that. That was a no go.
So we looked for another place.  Their sign said,
No soliciting
No loitering
No pets
No drugs
No guns
No prostitution
No ...

"Hey, I didn't get to finish reading" Arnold laughed as I drove off. Not the motel for us.  So we went back on the freeway and found a Days Inn - a place we could trust even if it was a splurge on our budget. 
In the morning we had an appointment.  Again, the film commission was a great help. i didn't get to give a talk but they set me up to interview a local flmmaker.  Kelli Hurd had some time between meetings to meet us at a coffeeshop.  In case you don't know, in order to make a movie, first you must have a million meetings!
Kelli had just directed her first feature called "It's in the Water." In her past she had been married with a son and wondered why she had to get stoned before making love to her husband.  She left him and figured it out - she was gay.  Now, she was happy with her female partner and her son and family accepted her.  As she came out she was amazed at how many other people were gay from her small East Texas town.  Hence, the idea for "It's in the Water."
Arnold loved hearing her talk and she thought Arnold was so cute.  She didn't mention me. I guess this was pay back for deserting Arnold for Wayne back in Kansas.
In a wierd coincidence, after she left, the man next to us said "What are you damn yankees up to".  He startedtalking to us.  He was a minister helping out divorcees because his wife had left him for another woman.  There must be something in that Texas water!
We didn't get him on camera but he told us about his life anyhow. I was amazed at how many people would just open up to us, on and off camera.  He confessed that he doesn't hate homosexuals that he "loves the sinner, hate the sin."
I later said to Arnold, "Well, it's nice to be loved."
We left the big city and drove East to Lousianna. I had always wanted to go to this state that has a mix of Native American, Spanish, French, and USA customs.  For Arnold, people started having a hard time understanding his Minnesota accent.
He went into a gas station and asked for a ziplock bag (he must have had more change and didn't believe in wallets at the time. Now I know what to get him for Christmas.)
The clerk didn't understand that in Minnesota bag is pronounced "beg."  She asked, "What? a block of ice?"
I told him that he was in the complete opposite of Minnesota. If you look on  map, Lousianna is at the exact same place but south and at the end - you know, by the Gulf of Mexico.  So no wonder it was like two foreign countries trying to communicate!
I had an appointment with the Chief Rufus Davis in a town that he told me on the phone. They pronounced it Natcatish but I couldn't find it on the map. So we stopped in Alexandra, figuring we could look for this town in the daylight.  Again, too hot to camp so we stayed at a motel and snuck Mandolina up to the second floor. Then Arnold and I wanted to cool down in the outdoor pool.  To our disgust, the water was warm.  All day in that hot humid sun did not make the pool a good option.
The next day I called Mr. Davis and he gave me directions. It sounded familiar. We had driven right by and even gassed up in his town the night before.  The spelling was different so I did not recognize it.
In Lousianna, not all the tribes are recognized by the federal government. They are working on that.  So, most of my contacts here was through an actor friend back in LA.  We loved meeting his friends.
Mr. Davis said his house was the only two story house so we wouldn't have trouble finding it. Was he ever right!  We drove by mobile homes and small homes and then his stood out like a mansion. He is a self made millionaire. I liked interviewing him and breaking all the stereotypes of those "poor Indians."
Our next interview also went against stereotypes. Hazel in Lafayette is Ojibwe and raised in Oklahoma but she had lived in Lousianna long enough to make us a home cooked cajun meal. We loved hearing the phase "we'd like to invite you over for dinner."
Hazel, at the time, was a single mother and very respected individual in the community.  She didn't want to be on camera but she let us speak to Tasha.  Unlike the stories you hear of Native American drop outs, she was a straight A student and president of the junior class, SADD, and in the speech and drama class.  She sat on her bed in her teenage room and told us about her life.  (I'll get posting soon, promise)

Next stop - go North, to Colorado

As we drove out of New Mexico, I stopped outside of a restaurant in Raton.  I checked my voice mail messages from a pay phone (no great cell phone plans those days).  I was shocked to find out I should not have ignored my car insurance bill. It was one of those renewal things and I'd miss the deadline and had been uninsured for the past twelve days.  Great, road trip with no car insurance.
Another message was awesome. The film commision in Greeley had a woman named Sara in charge. She not only said I could give my little spiel but she went ahead and found us a place (for free) and notified the radio and papers herself. Wherever she is now in the show biz world or living the high life in Colorado, thanks!
All she required from me was a fax with some information. We drove around and found a fax at a motor home place.  They were so sweet.  Then as we were about to move on, we saw a side show attraction. I thought it was a wild west show. Instead it was a road side zoo. We filmed the sad animals and interviewed the owner.  Later I called Peta and sent them the footage. 
That eveing we made it to Greeley and met the first of many kind strangers. I had been messing around on AOL chat rooms for the past few months. I told some of my new email friends that I'd be running around the country. Amy was nice enough to invite us to stay with her. She wasn't a pyscho killer even if we figured if she was it'd make great film footage.  Instead, Arnold and her became best buds (I think from their shared interest in smoking on her back porch) so it was fun.  We also really needed her hospitatlity, since all we had left was a ziplock of change that Arnold carried around and my check to the credit card companies (borrowed money from Mom to pay for the camera) wouldn't clear for a few days.  At a gas station, some man seemed mean and Arnold just gave him the zip lock bag when he asked for a handout.  Can't complain, we were living on handouts.
Greeley actually kept us busy with interviews. Not only did we talk to some folks with big dreams after my talk, but we got to meet some Gospel singers at an arts and crafts festival and used their awesome music to start the first cut of the documentary.
We got the best surprise - the Colorado Broncos - winners of the Superbowl, were right there in town with their spring practice.  We tried to walk past the fans but a guy stopped us and said we needed press passes. No biggie - have camera, will get access.  WE went into a little office, showed our camera and they gave us yellow laminated nametags that said "Bronco press".  Wow, we were on the field. 
I had camera envy as we set ours up on the tripod. It looked so small compared to the news camera packages.  Oh well, that didn't stop me from interviewing a few of the players.  I love the footage - I look small compared to them!
We left our Colorado adventure without the bag of change but I had already filled up on gas and had $8 cash still in my wallet.  We drove to Topeka and found a campsite.  The man said the charge was $10. I gave him my eight and said I'd look around the car for some change. He just waved us in.  Another kind stranger.
We set up by a river and the sound of locusts.  Half way across the country and it was our first time camping. We both slept fine - sung to sleep by the locusts.  Woke up by Mandolina as she howled to the nearby train.  I should have filmed her doing that - she looked so cute with her collie/golden retriever nose in the air answering the wolf cry of a rumbling train.
The campsite even had nice clean bathrooms and phones for me to make my calls. We could do well with this camping thing (thank you, Mike, my brother for lending us the tent!) 
I am amazed that we camped various places in the midwest and never ran into a thunderstorm or since this was Kansas, a tornado.  Plus, we had to sleep next to the outlets and charge up the camera batteries all night. We would have fried!
That morning we were running late for our first appointment with a tribe. It was with the Kickapoo triabl president. We arrived 15 minutes late but hadn't realized that by traveling East we had crossed a time zone and instead were an hour and 15 minutes late.  The tribal president had to leave but the Vice President and Secretary met with us.  We told them that we were interviewing people on the reservations about current issues and just seeing what was going on around the country. 
They were very kind and explained that they would have to take it up before all the council members and vote on whether we could do an interview.  They told us interesting facts on their history and their plans to develop a calbe station with TNT and Willie Nelson.  We thanked them for thier time but said we probably woudln't be able to come back in a month after the next tribal meeting and we respected tehir democratic decision making.
Luckily, the Secretary said some magical words to us, "Since we can't do an interview, at least we cam treat you to lunch."  He called the casino to give our names for VIP passes to the buffet.  We were super thankful since now we were completely broke (unless there was change in the car somewhere). 
We picked up our VIP passes and stuffed ourselves to last until midnight when we could snack again thanks to my credit cards being available to use at that moment again.  We drove out of the reservation admiring the lucsh green small hills and the mist which reminded me of the moors of England - all they needed were more sheep and it'd look the same.

Off the Rez, but near by

My first semster in college we had Milford Joe from New Mexico in our co-ed hall.  Later Joe became my Joe - my steady, whatever you want to call it even though it was not the 50s.  I asked him once about being Dine, aka Navajo and he told me nothing. Good strategy.  So I read lots of books and got pissed off. I had no idea the truth of what had happened in our country. All I remember was that we made the Cherokees cry and everyone died. Well, Joe was alive so something about that was wrong. 
Now a few years later and long since we broke up, I was going to see his hometown.  He was working in Farmington and later we'd drive by Shiprock.  Either way, I was excited.
We stopped first at the radio station.  The DJ was nice but pre-taping his show for later so no live interview. Drats.  Who was going to come to our talk now? And after the civic center was nice enough to let us use their place for free?
Well if you can't interview with the deejay you called, interview the one you're with.  Another DJ was live on the air and helped me promote our talk. 
Joe met us outside the center and said he had seen announcement about it in the paper. Publicity!  When I walked in there were 20 people. Yeah!
I was nervouse but I set up my "props" - actors' headshot photos, bibliographies, Hollywood Reporter and other trade magazines. I rambled on in the same spiel mroe or less as I'd done in Vegas even if it was harder in front of strangers. I don't think I even tried to imagine them in their underwear as the Brady Bunch show had taught me so many years ago.
The talk went great and the newspaper even took photos of me with my mouth open in speech and ran a story the next day. I wrote down Farmingont as one of our best stops and one of the first where I said to Arnold - I want to live here!  (anywhere but LA was my motto)
We did get a few interviews and if they still seem interesting, I'll post them here as soon as I can.
Arnold was in shock that my ex  and his girlfriend were letting us stay at their house that night.  He just thought that was too kind.
We caravaned to their trailer park outside of town.  Mandolina could even come inside since they just sold the place and didn't care about dog hair or dog damage. 
His girlfriend was sweet and cooked up some Fry Bread. This is a common treat on reservations. Here she made it long and thin not thick and more donut like as they do in Ojibwe country.  Plus we had "Navajo tacos" which meant adding super spicy chili on top.  I had been warned about the salsas and chiles of New Mexico.
I slept great on their couch and didn't even wake up when our hostess had to go off to work.  Mandolina woke me up by scratching at me. She had to go.  I took her outside and was in awe of the desert yellow and blue and gray sunrise.  I could live here, forever.
Her son was anxious to be in front of our camera and before we left we filmed him giving a tour of the house. He is so cute. A preschool want to be movie star!  Later when the editor helped put the first cut together, he said Laine's tour was his favorite part.
Soon, you can be the judge yourself. I'll put that on for sure!
We had a few days before our first tribal interview was set up. That would be all the way in Kansas so we thought we'd stay in Oz a little longer. One of my friends from college was in Albuquerque, time to drop in.
As we drove onto the paved road out of Joe's trailer park we saw a Menonite Amish looking woman wearing a traditional dress and hat. I wanted to ask her for an interview so I turend the car around - or tried to. The side of the road was all sand and we learned our first road lesson - beware of the sands of New Mexico.  It is a lot deeper then it seems and my wheel just spun it all around the car. I was getting nowhere.
I grabbed the camera and filmed Arnold as he tried to get the car out of the sand ditch. he didn't appreciate looking like he was the idiot who got us stuck but whoever has the camera, has the power (luckily, he's a good sport about everything!)
I tied Mandolina to a nearby fence so she wouldn't get hot in the car. We both waved for help. It took about two minutes and three cars stopped to help us. What a nice state! We can't say the same for Montana later in our journey (at least not in this trip, when I passed through that state with another woman, it was a different story).
One woman who stopped, Jamie, was just out driving around looking for something to do. We interviewed her and put her in our movie!  Anotehr woman stopped and she was so nice and a very interesting character.  They both helped us try to push the car out. That didn't work either.
Then a man with a company truck stopped, hooked a rope to the bumper and pulled us out.  I filmed it to look like the women pulled it out with their bare hands. Don't believe every docuumentary you see!  We were just thankful they were all so nice and we didn't become like the cattle heads you see bleached out in that dangerous desert sand.
The clouds sheltered us again as we drove on to the big city of Albuquerque. Mikeala met us at the door for some hugs  hello and welcomed us in. Again, I made myself an office and called up Denver to arrange some talks. No luck - every place there wanted me to pay to use their facilities. On our budget, ha!
As I tried to find a charity place, Arnold heard something sweet. The melody sounds of an ice cream truck.  Growing up on a rural reservation in the winter wonderland of Minnesota, he had never experienced an ice cream truck.  He was like a kid again, but a kid who never had home delivered ice cream before.  Of course, we filmed it!
Before we left New Mexico, I also turned the camera onto Mikeala and her partner, Priscilla.  One of Arnold's goals with this project was to prove to himself and, to the world with film, that there is such thing as true love for Gay men and Lesbian women. He was getting sick of the few pickings in such a rural part of the country and he didn't have many, if any, role models of long lasting relationships.  Priscilla and Mikeala's interview was one step to prove to him that love can last - for anyone!  (Note: This was the late 1990s, not now where this may seem sooooo dated!)

Part two - have credit card, will travel

I maxed out all my three credit cards just to buy the camera but now we had it! Plus I had a book called something like Discover Indian America.  We were ready to hit the road. I was ready for adventure and to make a movie on my terms. Arnold wanted to stop wiping kids' butts at his daycare job and needed adventure too before he moved to Oregon.
I packed a production office on wheels - one bag of Hollywood names and addresses and information on the country we would be traversing - our own.  Another bag had film location officenumbers, production books from some of those states, some promotional material about this "documentary" we would be filming (and I even listed it in the Hollywood Reporter as being in production.  I packed a dog leash, dog toys, dog cookies and a cool portable dog dish I saw in a trucker's magazine.  Arnold and I squeezed in a few bags for clothes, a sleeping bag, tent and two pillows.  All inside my purple Neon!
I didn't pack my questions and doubts but they hitchiked along. What if no one talks to us?  (only two tribes declined interviews)  What if we ran out of money (we did a few times)  What if no one feeds or shelters us? (We gained weight so you know the answer there).  What if I'm just making an over expensive home video? (you decide when you watch the clips you like and skip the rest!)
What if we stop worrying and just go? That's what we did.  Arnold was scared because he had never done anything like this before. He was also unsure about camping since he had only done it once and he remembered it as uncomfortable.  Yet, he was willing to try and get used to being far from his Minnesota home. 
At 10 in the eveing we pulled out of my driveway and said goodbye to my neighbor who would be taking care of my cat ( I shed tears as I said goodbye to the cat).
I drove out of LA and into the dark mysterious desert towards the next fantasy land of Las Vegas.  Since it was night, it was cool and it even rained. Did I mention my car lacked air conditioning?  Too expensive to pay for that in my monthly installments!
Arnold drove the last few hours of our midnight desert trek.  We arrived at 3 in the morning into downtown Vegas. It looked like a disaster movie.  A flash flood had arrived right before us and threw cars all around the city streets yet we made it to dry land at my Aunt Kay's house.  Her dog, Dulce greeted Mandolina with his usual dry hump. You're both spayed, get over it!
Arnold and I fell right to sleep in her guest bedroom. No camping yet!
The next day Aunt Kay was nice enough to throw a party for us! It was a kinda charity thing where people could put money in a jar for us to wish us well. I loved seeing her friends since I had met them a few times before. 
Arnold helped prepare the fruit tortillas but I was busy faxing and calling for our next stop - Farmington, New Mexico. I called the radio stations and newspapers to announce my talk on "Starting out in Hollywood." I figured we could make some cash from donations and spread the knowledge of what I learned the past year in LA - like avoding scams. I had just spent hundreds on UCLA Extension classes, why not pass it along for free and even meet people to interveiw - if they seemed interesting.
I did my first talk that night at Aunt Kay's. Some said I should go into stand up - my life, the comedy!  We also did our first interviews. One girl said her mother wanted her to be an actress since she was very pretty. She said she wanted to be a vet. I told her to go for her real dreams (and probably easier to be a vet).  The other young woman really was interested in acting and had already started making connections and taking classes. I admired her attitude and professionalism. 
We ended the night by helping Aunt Kay in the kitchen. We planned to wake up early and drive in the dark through the desert. She said we'd never do it - she was right.  We woke up late and were terrified to drive in the heat of the day but it was cloudy so we didn't burn up.  The sand, that's another story.

Blog instructions

Hi all!  I'm new to blogging and hope to update soon with a vlog with my documentary footage.  For now, start at the oldest blogs and work your way up to read things in order. I hope that helps.  I read my diary from the time and wrote these and edited them and posted them. Next time I'll try to post more in order, but again, it could still be "backwards".
Have fun!  See you on the Big screen!

Next

The next day I slept in. Then went back to the temp agency. My day job fired me, of course for missing a week, even if I faked sick.  My dad was proud that I made the movie but astonished that I let my job go.  Silly Dad, day jobs are for losers.  Plus, the temp agency got me a job right away, for that whole week. 

I went to the film processing plant and walked into the wrong projection room. Interesting alien movie. Then I found ours.  The director was not happy to see me, but I knew I had the right to be there. The owner told me it had never been a problem.

I loved seeing the footage. “My” movie on the big screen. It looked amazing – so big and beautiful and real.  It was weird to see someone I kissed on the big screen. My bodyguard looked cool, even if he did “kill” someone in that scene.  I also noticed how handsome the lead actor looked. All week we chatted a tiny bit, and he ran around looking like a normal human. But on screen, with the 35 mm footage, perfect lighting, and make up, he looked like a God.  Movie magic.

More magic happened as we left the projection room. The director and other woman producer actually talked to me. She asked how I was doing. Wow, maybe she is just a Set Bitch, I thought.

The next day it was back to work – another day job. It was at a relaxed plastic company. I just had to answer the phones which only rang in the early morning and afternoon. So I read the magazines the old receptionist had left behind.  I instantly made friends with two employees. One had been a child actor on a big show.  The other also was in the biz – an actress.  They were impressed that I was a producer.

I also started working on my next project.  I was going to travel all around the country, making a documentary on Native American reservations. It was really just an excuse to travel, but I did want to see the issues on each reservation. It has always been an interest of mine and I was finding a true fact: have camera, will travel.  Every day I called reservations throughout the country to ask if I could come film and interview. I also typed up letters and sent them off. I was overwhelmed by all the details but I had to keep moving. Next is the word in show biz, according to producer Lynda Orbst (whose book I was reading at this time).

I also had one last job for the movie. I called everyone to invite them to the cast party. The lead actor, normal by day, God on the screen, thanked me for my nice smile and making him feel welcome on the set. Made me feel good. Since then I’ve seen him on some well known movies and TV shows. I wonder if he remembers my smile.

The cast party was fun. The grumpy DP gave me a hug hello. Now that the stress was over, we all could relax. I didn’t do more than niceties to the director and other producer woman since I still didn’t trust. But the producer I recruited and I had a long funny conversation. The God/actor made me crack up too. I had a great time, just being social with everyone I had spent a week with making my first flick.  My bodyguard never showed up though, and I took it personally.

He called and had a good excuse. We arranged to meet for him to read for a role in my movie. The script was getting better and as part of my weekly screenwriting class, I was arranging a reading of the script and inviting everyone in the biz.  So, of course, as an actor, he wanted a part of that.

He came over and sat on my porch and read the part. He wasn’t that great – still new at this acting thing. He was tall – 6’6 and had a non-speaking role in the short film.  But I figured I’d let him have the part since it was just a reading and he could learn to act, I thought.

After we did the script talk, we talked more about our lives.  I asked if he had many serious girlfriends.

“Just one”

“Did it hurt when it ended?”

“No.”

“That’s good.” I sighed, thinking of all the lingering pain from my break up that was slowing fading to black.

“We’re still together.”

“What? Is it still serious? Are you going to get married?”

“We are married.”

My head was spinning.  Married? I kissed a married man. Oh no, that’s not me.

“You’re married? You didn’t think of that before you flirted with me? Before we kissed?”

He went on about how she was out of the country for a month and he was allowed to cheat. Whatever. I soon ended the conversation and told him he had to leave.

“Will I still be able to do the part?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Then I realized I was one of those producers. He thought he could sleep his way into a part. Okay, I wasn’t going to be like that. I promised him the part for the reading. That he could do. But no relationship. I don’t do the cheating thing, no matter how lonely I was in LA.

A week went by and I organized for the documentary road trip, the reading, and had some great breakthroughs for the script I was writing. A woman I met months ago looked like what I was thinking for the main character. She was a sweet woman from South Carolina and she happened to be an Indigo Girls’ fan. I had met her at a concert where I went to do research on their fans. I interviewed people before they went into the concerts up and down the coast. And in the process scored free tickets to the show in San Diego, snuck in at Santa Barbara, and bought tickets for LA. I became a Gohead in the process of writing about Goheads.

Anyway this girl was like an angel. She was an actress and writer so I knew she’d be great. My Gohead angel even found a friend who loved the film and happened to have produced the biggest grossing movie that spring.  He brought us to the Lilith Fair so he could learn more about the Indigo Girls. We had fun riding in the back of his convertible as he put his hand on the knee of his new, young girlfriend. He was a real producer – balding, in his 50s, flashy car, pretty girl.  We didn’t mind being along for the ride.

I got to see my first Lilith Fair. But true to my LA life, it was about my career. Schmoozing the producer, and sending scripts backstage for the Indigo Girls to read.  I told them it was still a work in process but I plan to make the feature film the following summer. I know they got the scripts because a few weeks later, Amy Ray (half the duo) sent a letter to me about it.

July 14^th

I wrote in my journal “Years ago people in France got their heads cut off today. I’m running around like it already was.”  I was busy.  I had sent out all the letters and didn’t get many responses but would check my voice mail from the road to follow up, and make calls to get interviews with Tribal Governments throughout the country.  We were leaving anyway. Nothing could stop me. I wanted out of the city, the traffic. Plus I wanted to do my own project. A documentary.

Another day, another day job. I got to stay more than a week at the plastic company but they got mad when instead of reading magazines (appropriate for a receptionist), I was folding my business letters and stuffing envelopes to the tribes.  That’s not okay apparently. Maybe it looked like competition. I didn’t get it. The phone wasn’t ringing. I filed every possible paper. There was nothing to do. As long as it looks like you are reading a fashion magazine and not doing real business, then it’s okay. Whatever. I was going out of town and doing my real career anyway.

I even ran around to find a camera for the documentary. Back then, 1998, digital cameras were still new, but big and expensive. Brett told me a Sony XL1000 would be my best bet so I got that.

I picked up my friend, Arnold, who was the only pal across the world who took up my invitation to drive around the country. He’s from Minnesota. I met him when I studied there to be a teacher.  He’s a part of the Leech Lake Band of Ojibwe (aka Chippewa).  He’s also gay and he was interested in meeting other gay men on the road, especially ones in long term relationships. To be inspired, to have hope. In the small town area where he was from, out and long term relationships were rare occurrences.  He also wanted an adventure before he left his life time home of Northern Minnesota and took up an invite from another friend to move to Eugene, Oregon.

I was happy to have him along. I didn’t want to go by myself. We had fun hanging out in Minnesota but I wondered if we’d get along. It ended up he was the perfect road buddy. We never fought. He never got on my nerves.

I picked him up at his brother’s house where he had stayed for a few days.  We got the camera and watched the guy give us a tutorial. Then we were excited to film ourselves driving around LA.  We were amateur filmmakers but ready to roll.

We spent the afternoon in Santa Monica by the beach.  A photographer I had befriended on a film set took pictures of us which I would use later for publicity.  Even my dog, Mandolina, was in the publicity package since she was coming with. She loved all the smells throughout the country but not the heat in the southwest. She was a golden/collie mix and her deep fur didn’t mix with Texas heat.

The second day that Arnold was at my house wasn’t good for him. He had some weird rash and I brought him to the Pasadena hospital. They had no idea what he was talking about when he said he had health coverage through the tribe. That pissed me off. California has the highest population of Native Americans (thanks to the weird relocation policy of the 1960s).  How could they not honor this right to free health care?

So I drove him to another hospital downtown where the wait was forever which was never. I picked him up later that evening (I had another temp day job) and went back to the Pasadena hospital where after 4 hours they finally saw him and gave him penicillin. I was not impressed. The good thing was a guy sitting next to us in the waiting room was in a band and he said he’d play at my party the next day.

I had a party to try to raise funds for our trip. I made a lot of food and tried to charge for it like a feminist party I went to earlier that spring for a brigade to Cuba. But I was so behind in my phone calls that I didn’t invite people in time. We had a few people and it was fun, esp. jamming to the band that we didn’t realize we needed a permit since their sound echoed throughout the valley. 

We also had another event before we left. The reading of my screenplay. I sent invitations to agents, producers, and distributors but wrote the wrong address. We sent some of the actors to wait at that nearby theater but no one showed up. I, and the actors, were disappointed.  So we had two women who had heard about the script through the venue where we were actually holding the reading, and my writing teacher. Oh well, I learned a lot. The actors had good comments about how to improve it. I got a taste of directing. And I got to see it come to life, even if they were just sitting down.

And one more thing before we left.  The producer I had recruited called me to say that they wanted to meet with me to talk about credits. I thought, okay, I’ll give them the list of all the people I had recruited and the proper spelling of their names to thank them all for their volunteer hard work.

I was wrong.

It was at the other woman producer’s house and immediately I should have left. It was her, the guy I recruited, and the director. I handed over the list of everyone’s names, and phone numbers (aka crew contact list) but they proceeded to tell me that it was about me. I wasn’t going to get writer’s credit. The final blow. The one I feared most.

We argued back and forth and Arnold sat on the patio listening, smoking. I wanted to tell him to turn on the camera which we still had in the box, to get this down. I knew it was breaking my heart and meant something.

The worse part wasn’t even the loss of credit, the one thing I wanted most and they knew it.  It was that the director accused me of embezzlement. I was shocked.  I’m not a thief. Plus I didn’t even have access to any of his money. I spent my own on some of the food, ice, and snacks. Plus on the PA boys who since they left to stay at the director’s, their mom had stopped the check she had sent to cover some of their food and all. So those trips to the restaurant were on me. I mentioned that.  But the director said that since I had sent out a fundraising letter (which he urged me to do), that money was his. I told him I got three checks for $20 and that the letter also mentioned my documentary and the movie I wanted to make next summer so at best he gets a third which I already spent on the PA boys and their dinners.

I was scared. Embezzlement is such a scary word.  Later I photocopied the checks, even the cancelled one (which I had to pay a bank fee on for some reason because she choose to cancel it), and sent the proof to the director that I was not a thief.

They laid on other accusations. That I didn’t work hard enough because I fell asleep once. I laughed, I had a photo of the PAs asleep.  They said I should have defeated my body’s urge for sleep and drive on just like the producer I hired did, and got in a car crash. I had given up enough for this dysfunctional film – my job, my sanity, my dignity, I didn’t need to total my car too!

Yet they had proved all my doubts. They were untrustworthy. They had used me. Or rather, the director had used me and found people to be on “his side.”  It was my first Hollywood experience with a liar and a credit stealer. I knew it happened, I just didn’t know it happened so quickly (less than a year out in LA) and by people so low on the totem pole. It was just a short film by a beginner! I thought this was something that happened to people by A list people, not Z!

I later felt badly for Arnold. He was there to hear the argument. He was there to console me on the drive home. But as we drove out of town he kept hearing and hearing about it as we met up with my friends throughout the country. I don’t think I even started to give up talking about it until Minnesota.  I also called a lawyer and hired him. He wrote a mean letter to the director to say he promised credit and that’s like pay.  It did nothing and the lawyer said the next step was a lawsuit which started out at $1500. The letter was only $300. I dropped it. Why waste any more time and money on this guy.  I was already on the road making my documentary. I was moving on, literally.