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.

And, action!

The first shooting day came and went. At first it was exciting. Watching all the hustle and bustle. I got to see the faces of some of the people I had only talked to by phone but convinced them to work for us, for free.  A wanna be actor from one of my temp jobs even came on as a PA to get set experience. He made me feel good about myself when he looked around and said “Wow, you put all this together?”  Yeah, I did.

It was a slow moving day since most people were in Grip Class 101.  It was a first day for most so they had to learn how to deal with and use the equipment.  Free people come with a price – inexperience.

The best part is when my father came on the set. He was in town for a business meeting and even he was proud of me, seeing my work at work.  It was rare that I ever felt he was proud of me.  He did joke that there must be a rule that you had to be under 30!  Inexperienced people in Hollywood tend to be young.

My cousin from film school took a photo of us.  Right after the flash, I went to introduce my dad to the other producer but she barely came over to meet him. After my dad left she was smoking and again she barely acknowledged me. I was pissed. How dare she just stop speaking to me after all these months?  Later my film school cousin, Brett,  said he thought she was cold and weird. Okay, maybe she wasn’t just weird to me.

I helped pick up the catering which was made by the smoking cold producer’s aunt.  She made food from the Philippines which we quickly found out the grips hated.  All the vegetables didn’t keep their grunt work energy needs up.  But her aunt said something interesting to me. She asked if the other produer had eaten her rice yet.  Hmh, maybe that’s why she was grumpy. The aunt said people from the Philippines have to eat their rice every day. It also made me wonder if that’s why she only wanted things done the same way – same menu item, same meticulous way to make a movie. Perhaps.  (This is also a good example of a lesson my prof at UCLA Extension told me about producing – always fire the caterer after the first week since the crew complains about them, it makes you look like you listen and care but you know ahead of time, they always gripe about the food).

I dropped off the film to the developers. Not as bad as I thought. Plus, all the driving around gave me time to make more calls to get our crew needs for the rest of the week.  Free people don’t take off all week from work!  (unless they are suckers like me, but I was getting paid with having my name as writer, right?) 

At the end of the shoot I still had calls to make but I ditched them all to have fun. My Canadian travel friend and my film school cousin, Brett and his buddy and I went out to eat. I had pure fun. Something that hadn’t happened in awhile.

When we got back to my place, someone over 30 arrived. A man with a van who heard my radio announcement in Santa Cruz. He looked around at my rustic place which I thought was a quant home but others thought was a dump. He said I had the biggest balls to invite people here and to do this movie for free. But he also added he was happy to have the chance to help on the set. He slept in his van which he parked on the huge property. I got the place for the acres – for the dog. I didn’t care about the porch where I lived but everyone else didn’t like the cots and floor so much. The PA boys who had helped me all week and complained with me about the director were now sleeping at his house and, I felt, turning against me too. Okay, they stopped talking to me too but I couldn’t blame them for wanting a real bed no matter how young they were.

The second and third day of the shoot got more and more moody. The director and woman producer weren’t talking to me and it seemed like the whole crew was grumpy. I was feeling used, having to do all these PA type of jobs running around buying things, dropping film off, picking videos up, then giving them to the editor to make a rough cut. It was taking so long that I couldn’t even give the tapes to the editor until 10pm and I felt badly that he had to wait so long.

The next day at midday when I brought back some tapes he gave me to show the director, the other woman producer asked why I didn’t hand over all the tapes. I gave some of the ones the editor said were “negative stuff” to the man producer I had recruited.  She said that was unprofessional to not know what they were, that producers were supposed to know that type of thing. I said “Well if you would talk to me and tell me these things. That was the deal. You were supposed to help teach me about films since you’ve been on sets before and I’m new at this.”

She said, “People change”.

Brett’s pal said that was code word for her being a bitch. I really liked this guy!

Word got around that we were having “producer wars.” I was starting to feel like a rebel. A teenager again, mad at my parents. Now mad at the other producers and director.  I even took a bong hit when one of the crew was passing it around at the end of the shoot. I hadn’t done that in years but I wanted to be bad. But since it had been years I coughed and choked it all up.  And as I waited for the producer I recruited to give me back my cellphone so I could make more calls, I fell asleep for 15 minutes.  I had nothing else to do.  A few days later on our night shoot, I’d take a picture of the PA boys fast asleep for hours.  This would be important later.

Day four went better. I came late though since my landlord was upset about all the people camping out and cramming into my living space. I cleaned up a bit. I had forgotten his warning months ago about smoking. There was a huge dry hill behind me and that could have gone up in smoke in these California hills. So I cleaned up the butts and ashes and made a “no smoking” sign.

I dropped by the set and saw what we needed and ran back out again for some prop food and the ice for the day.  I brought that back and enjoyed watching an outside scene being filmed. It was more exciting than the indoor scenes, maybe because I could see it all. Plus it had a shooting. Now I saw why so many action movies were made. More fun than dialogue scenes.

The two men playing bodyguards were in that scene. I really liked them. They were always nice to me. Finally getting respect as a producer.

I ran over to deliver the film footage. I found the owner and asked if I could watch the dallies. He said that is never a problem and never was one. Aha, the other producers and director had lied to me when they said there wasn’t enough room for me in the theater and that the company wouldn’t let me. I knew it.  This was a strange “war.”

I went to the hardware store to get the four light bulbs they needed to light a scene. I should have written it down. They had said four rolls of film to get at the place that sells movie film, and six light bulbs. A little mistake but on this set, that was a big deal.

I returned to the set and the other woman producer was so mad about the light bulbs that she actually took me outside the gate of the property and talked to me.

“I’m only going to say this once” and she proceeded to tell me how disappointed she is that I couldn’t find a dolly grip and that’s why she wasn’t talking to me. I pointed out that I found almost all the other crew members but that one just wasn’t easy to find a freebie.  Dolly grips have actual experience and want to get paid.

“People are complaining about you.”
“Really, so are they about you.  They say you are rude and these people volunteering are going to leave because of you so I wouldn’t listen to what people say” I retorted.

Then we went on and on. I said how they all seem against me and it doesn’t matter what I do. She didn’t care.

She left. I ended up crying from the stress and the mess it had all become.

That’s when I found out who my friends were. The man with the van gave me a hug, the Canadian traveler said she still can’t believe I don’t walk away – I could’ve the day before and even kept my day job. Now so many days off the job I was sure to be fired.

I had to run out again to do more errands.  As I left, Brett saw me all puffy faced. He gave me a big hug.  And one of the bodyguards saw me but I quickly put on my sunglasses so he didn’t notice. Just gave me a big “How ya doing?’

I was crying at first as I drove away. Then I got pissed.  I realized they were not good people. Not honest. Playing power games.  I made myself feel better – I’ve made this movie, I’ll make more. This is not the end.  I was put on this Earth to make movies and I will.

Back at the set, I stayed far away from the house indoor set and just cleaned up around the catering area. The woman with a van also from Santa Cruz made my day. She said the minute she met the director she knew he was a rich, slimy salesmen. Which he is – he sells stuff for film sets – his day job.  She saw that he didn’t have a creative bone in his body but sees that I am 100% creative and that’s why they used me.   She also noticed that he hasn’t been running the show but the AD and DP were. 

As I calmed down and the crisis was fading, I just watched the next scene being filmed. It was dark now and the bodyguards had to ride up in an old 1958 Mercedes. It would look great on film but in reality the diesel fuel was killing the actors. Take after take they went back into the car to breathe the poison. 

I watched them get in and out of the car. As one bodyguard walked by (the one who gave me the how ya doing earlier), he looked right at me. I said “Hi” and realized, “Wow,  I’m attracted.” After that, I joined in on all the flirting that had been going on all week.

Brett and my traveling pal from Canada liked each other.  Matthew was flirting with the two cute women make up artists. One PA who was middle aged was falling in love with the location owner and later they moved in together.  Even the woman producer was sitting on the director’s lap.  Love was on the set.

Before one take, the other bodyguard gave me a kiss on the cheek. As “my” bodyguard got into the car he said “I was gonna do that.” 

The next in between takes, the kissy bodyguard asked about another woman on set. I said she was in her 40s. I then said, “Is the next question, is she single?” He said yes.  My bodyguard said it’s good to know. I volunteered “I’m single.”  He smiled and got back into the car.  I didn’t realize that he never gave me his status.

There were only two days left of filming. The bodyguards came by on our second to last day. I only had one errand to deliver film and I had to wait for the film so I just literally sat around and flirted with my bodyguard. We talked and talked sitting on the porch in the bamboo set chairs. I didn’t care that the director walked by and gave me an evil look. I was the rebel, and it was my time to flirt . I deserved a set love interest too, everyone else had one!

That night went long. I snuck in a short nap between errands. But as we went on and on into the night, the PA boys camped out with sleeping bags and dozed off for hours. I thought it was funny and snapped a photo.

In the early morning, after the bodyguards had “wrapped” filming, my bodyguard gave everyone a hug goodbye. He asked me to walk him out to the car and I said sure. That led to kissing goodbye leaning on his car. I felt funny – the producer making out with one of the actors right across from the set. 

The last day the director was actually even nice to me. Maybe because the other woman producer was gone, and it was the last day. When it ended I was so excited. I had made my first movie!  I had an amazing, happy, relief, pride, exhaustion, joy and fear of the future feelings after nine months.  It was over. I made it. But as Linda Orbst said in her book He Lied, “Next”.  I had to keep moving, go onto the next thing, which I vowed, would be my own projects unless I was paid. I didn’t know then that paid didn’t mean problem or problem people free.

The filming ended and I had to rush to the airport so my Canadian pal could fly home.  She was sad to leave, not the filming, but her set romance – Brett. She wondered if it’d work long distance.  The day before my Canadian cousin got a ride to the airport. Everyone was leaving town, the vans returned to Santa Cruz.  I was sad to see them all go but happy that Brett decided to stay and try his luck in the film biz.  He and his buddy had already rented an apartment. I’m glad I had the opportunity to get all of them their “big breaks” in the biz. It was disappointing that I had opened my house to the PA boys but on the set all they did was join the director’s camp and bad mouth me. I decided not to help out so much in the future, at least not to strangers.  There is something to be said for pulling yourself up and working hard – makes you appreciate it more. 

I returned back to the set to help clean up. It took forever. They took down the set house they built and I helped pack up the wood. I swept the whole area and even cleaned the bathroom that was designated for our crew. The owner of the house was appreciative. I wanted to be a responsible producer and be nice to the location and leave it as we found it. 

I left at 11:30 PM. Almost no sleep but I was happy. As I drove down the freeway through the smog, I smiled. I had made my first movie. LA was my city, and I was single, strong, and living the dream.

This is Hollywood, we don't always get what we want"

“This is Hollywood, we don’t always get what we want”

That was the director’s motto.  I wonder if we ever get what we want in Hollywood.

I was getting tired and annoyed with my day job. Maybe it was just a way to calm my anxious feelings that I was going to get fired for taking off a whole week to be sick, i.e. make the movie. Whenever there was a problem with our detail computer entry work, I was like “whatever, I’ll leave these day jobs to the common people. Let them fester in their cubicles, I’m off to be a real movie producer.”

But I did want to go off in a big bang.  The office was part of a nationwide business and the emails connected us to all of them. Before I left I wanted to send out a mass email to everyone about the documentary I planned to make that summer on a big road trip with a friend from Minnesota. I figured I’d use the job to find some people to put us up for a night or two. Get something for all my pain and suffering, though they did pay well and provided a great schedule for me.  Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this kinda work, or any real work.

I actually took off an afternoon from work for a real doctor visit. Just an annual check up at the OB/GYN.  After the exam, I told him I was producing a movie. He then let out his movie stories. He had met some big stars and well known producers because his daughter dated their sons. He said they all have big egos. I thought “is this the way it is out here – it never ends!”  My little director had an ego already and the big guys had one. I was feeling more like I should just leave all these boys alone and make movies with only women.

The next day I also got to leave early from work. This time it was the movie world crashing into my real world. I had written down that my cousin from Canada would be arriving on Friday, but it was Thursday so one of the PA guys staying at my house paged me with a “911” code and I called back to realize my mistake. The manager let me go get him.  Sweet!  There was no traffic at that hour.

I thought Matthew would be mad at me, wandering aimlessly around LAX. But he had a big smile. Since the traffic returning home was impossible by that time, we walked around the beach. We talked about how we both got to the career decision of making movies.  But then I realized I was tired of talking about movies after months of studying and preparing to make one.

He did say that some people focus on their careers to avoid themselves inside. I wondered, is that me?  Am I so driven only to avoid the emptiness inside I still feel after the big breakup? Or because I need direction after my dream of marriage and babies were destroyed?

I enjoyed talking to Matthew and having family around. I hadn’t hung out with him since we were kids both visiting our grandparents on Long Island. But he was the little brother of Kim, the cousin my age, so we didn’t pay too much attention to him. Now he was all grown up, but just barely. In his early 20s.

That night there was a 10pm meeting for the movie. These late night meetings were bad for me. And I realized this movie was bad for me. At the meeting they said my duty would be to bring the film stock to the processors. I couldn’t believe it. I had written the script (before the director lied and gave it to another writer to rewrite), I had slaved away for 9 months to be a producer and all they are making me in the end is a PA!  I yelled that to them and they all said I was being crazy. Even the two PAs I was sheltering in my house and giving them the opportunity to be on a set right away (it took me months to get on an actual film set, remember) said I was “overreacting”.  At the other short film production, I got to do wardrobe, and props, not run around like a gopher.  I figured it was only next week, I’d survive and hopefully still keep my credit on screen as writer and producer but things weren’t looking hopeful.

On Friday I sent the email out to all the offices around the country and some people wrote back like, “why did I get this?” it was so out of the blue. Other co-workers were excited for my big email and big goodbye. I kept in touch and some helped out later in future films.

Sunday morning I was nervous. It was show time. The movie was starting. The day before we went to the set to prepare for the production. Now I had more of the crew I had “hired” (all volunteers and the Director promised them beer but like everything he promised, it never materialized.)

I had gotten all the people all this film to work for free. I didn’t get the DP but the other producer I got got him so in away I got him. The only people the director found were the drugged out sound guys who okayed sound as an old Mexican man walked by on the corner ringing the bell for his ice cream cart.  I even had two strangers from Santa Cruz who drove down in their minivans (good for lugging equipment and the food that another producer’s mom made but everyone ending up hating because it was exotic foreign food and too many vegis for the hard lifting work of the crew guys).  They were both middle aged but nice as could be.  And I had another cousin come out, a year after film school in Virginia, Brett, and his buddy. Plus a woman I had met in Ireland, also from Canada.  She read my fundraising letter and offered to help since she too wanted in on filmmaking.

The set was exciting to me. Not because it was a set but because I had written the first script. I had taken the idea and made it into dialogue and something real. Now I got to walk around the creation. Here was the house, looking like a general’s mansion. And the director had cousins in construction so they built a house, with no roof, for us to film everything from every angle and use sunlight.  I was walking around. It was real. It was exciting. My creation was alive!

almost ready for our close up

Things weren’t getting better on my short film project.  The day I helped out in wardrobe some freak thing happened with the world’s satellites and all pagers and cellphones turned off. So the Director yelled at me on my home phone message machine about me not returning his calls. Later he calmed down when I told him all pagers weren’t working in the whole wide world. But I was getting tired of his moods and felt like he was blaming me for every communication problem and tension in the project. I could tell it was a dysfunctional atmosphere and swore never to get involved with that again. Ha! This is Hollywood.

Things got crazier, fast. The shoot was coming up. The Director lost the AD I had set up and all my calls were getting nowhere. Then he lost a deal for free film stock and somehow that stressed me out – realizing it would cost more money we didn’t have. But he ended up buying it and luckily his dad had a successful store so money soon would flow and flow to vendors.  He even had a new checking account with the production company name on it, but only he could sign for it. I didn’t care, I wasn’t in this for the money, but for the experience and the writer’s credit.

Still, it was getting too much. I decided never to produce again for an idiot.  I said never again. Only work for my own projects, unless I was getting paid for a really good, long term project.  I had already started making plans to travel all summer and make a documentary. I dreamed of starting a documentary company and never working a dumb day job again. And I had even bigger dreams. To leave LA and live back in the Midwest and make movies there. Someday, I thought.

A week before the shoot, two young men came to my house to help as Production Assistants.  One was the son of a teacher/friend I worked with the previous year, the other was his best friend. They were a big help, doing errands and helping me with all the things left to do but we didn’t have time to do. They were energetic and excited and I liked that.  They slept on my floor and they helped me figure out ways to make room for more people to live in my porch and back yard during the production.  The mother had sent a check to help pay for their food while they were here so I cooked for them and brought them out to eat, twice.  That money helped since I didn’t have any after all my bills.

Friday came around and we took some time to just relax. At dinner I thanked them for running around all week in the pressure cooker we were all feeling. They thanked me for having them and giving them the experience of making a movie. Then we ate and laughed and relaxed before the next storm wave.

The next day we went to a production meeting. There was good news. The Direcor decided to just bite the bullet and pay some key crew members like an AD. He also found his cousins to do sound but knew they were druggies and later during the shoot, the AD would yell “Sound,okay?” (a truck would be beeping as it backed up) and they would yell back “Sound, okay.” No surprise that the director had to spend $400 an hour to do loop work later – where the actors come in and re-record their lines in a studio with good sound called ADR – Additional Dialogue Recording. Taught me a great lesson, sound people are priceless!

The Director was treating me worse and worse. There was a part for a servant and he even denied me this little extra role and said “you’ll get your break some other day”. What a jerk. I wasn’t interested in acting, just for the fun of it. Instead he went racist and said he wanted someone “dark”.  Then it got worse. Instead of producer, he called me his employee. If there weren’t only two weeks left before production, I would’ve quit.  Instead, I saw two more weeks, payoff for all this ridiculousness, and then freedom.

The Director was late to this production meeting and everyone was unimpressed with his pep talk which was just yelling at everyone. The DP was just out of film school but he was good. He was excited to film on film and use the Director to pay for all this good footage he could use for his career. He rolled his eyes at some of the ridiculous things the Director was saying. I felt better that I wasn’t the only one fed up with this guy.

That night we went out to a Hollywood party. I was tired but the guys wanted to go and they were working so hard, I couldn’t deny them.  First we stopped by 7-11 and bought a Variety magazine. I was so happy. Our short film was listed under “production” and my name was there, with the title of screenwriter and producer. I was in the Daily Variety. I had made it. I was on my way.

At the party I met some new people, talked to people I knew, gave out my card, etc. The guys were learning, they gave out their numbers and were schmoozing like I had taught them. I met an actor and he said “You are the famous Carol.”  I was like “What?”  He had talked to the guys and they said “our producer brought us here to have fun.” It was cute, being famous. He said I’d be a good director since I’m thoughtful enough to be tired but bring the guys out.  I thought “yeah, I’m nice. I’d be a good director. Not mean, like the guy I’m working with.”  I also thought he had money so that’s why he’s making a movie and being director, but being a good director might take more than money.

The first week of June finally arrived. I knew it’d be a tough month trying to make this movie and losing my job (they fired you if you got sick so I knew it was hopeless trying to “be sick” for a week).  I worried how I’d make it through, financially.

All the stress of putting together a movie made me feel more lonely. I had no real friends to talk about what was going on, who would understand filmmaking. I dubbed LA the loneliest city in the world.  I had college friends in other parts of the country, but they didn’t know a thing about film.

At my work, while I still had it, was an actor, or wanna be actor.  He said that his manager told him who to be seen with around town and they even hired beautiful women to go out with him. I was appalled by this. Showed how fake Hollywood is.  I was also learning that all is not what it seems.  There were some famous stars with rumors of hiring dates and even having fake spouses  to cover up their true sexuality.  I realized I could never live a lie. I guess I didn’t want success that badly. Plus I was starting to feel like if I hated this town and filmmaking I would leave and give myself credit for at least trying.

The short film was now really being directed by the DP. He knew what he wanted and started to run the meetings. He and his crew of friends would chuckle at the director when he was asked about some visual detail and the reply was “I don’t want to make decisions about that.” He felt like jewelry and costumes were below him. It was starting to look like he didn’t know what a director really does and was in it for an ego boast.

The DP frustrated me because he rattled off names of the crew’s positions and I was so far behind trying to figure out who these people are and what they do – 1^st AD, 2^nd AD, PA, DP, AC, etc. I figure TP should be in there too since everyone needs toilet paper and the location wanted us to provide our own for the crew anyhow.

spring into action

Spring was, well, the same weather as always, minus a few raindrops from the wettest winter ever in LA history. I had just moved from Santa Cruz so I thought it was normal for rain in California and I didn’t understand why they kept talking about a child – El Nino.

Spring also meant that I finally got to spring onto a film set.

It was for a short film – another UCLA reject that decided to go on anyway.  I learned a lot – watching a big crew using a real film camera – 35mm and they even used a cool jig arm crane which moved the camera up.  Plus the actors were in movies I had seen!  This was exciting.

I soaked up everything and learned all possible.

One of the best lessons had nothing to do with film but how they treated each other. Some of the crew complained that this was a “first time director.” That’s a curse to be called but luckily it only happens once.  I also saw how relaxed the producers were and they even played kickball while filming was going on inside. 

That was the total opposite of my short film.  The director and I weren’t talking anymore, only fighting. He accused me of not being dedicated. Truth was I was putting more energy into writing my Indigo Girls script and networking for that since I didn’t trust him anymore. Yet I still wanted to help, to learn more about filmmaking and protect my writer’s credit.

Around Easter I got an idea to help my Indigo Girls movie. I would go around the country, mostly to Native American reservations, and go to the places where the film would take place. Remember the whole idea came from the Honor the Earth tour where the Indigo Girls go to different reservations and raise funds for Environmental concerns.  I called my friend Arnold back in Minnesota and asked if he wanted to join me.  He responded "Did you eat too many Easter eggs?" He must've too since he said "yes."

The director nagged me to send out a fundraising letter. So I did, to my family and friends all over the country. I wrote how I was making the short film, then buying a digital camera (SONY XL1000) to make a documentary all summer traveling around reservations, and the next year planned to film the Indigo Girls movie no matter what.  Three or four people responded with $20 checks and one woman gave me $100 since her son was going to stay with me and help out in the short film. (Later she cancelled that check).  These are important details for what would happen later.

So, I looked for crew and rounded up people I knew for our short. I wrote people all over the world to come be on a movie set. Friends I had made in my world travels now said they would love to break into movies too. A pal came from Canada, a cousin from Canada, a cousin from Virginia who had studied film, and my friend’s son and his pal (who sent the big check). Plus I even got an announcement onto the “Pig” radio station in Santa Cruz and two middle age people with big vans (to lug things around) said they’d come down for the week in June. Things were coming into place.

Now more details had to be prepared and my language ability came into use. My friend who I brought on as another producer helped me walk around the neighborhood of the house where we would be filming.  We had to get signatures from all the neighbors so LA would us our film permit.   Half of the block spoke Spanish. They were all used to this since that house films a lot and they all said “si”.  The house looked like a convent and “foreign” so it enhanced our film with  a Middle East look (later they added a loon sound in post production. I don’t think loons are looney enough to live in the desert, they need lakes).  I just chucked it up to another sign that this director was clueless and just using people, though I would find out soon, we were all using him.

The best thing I learned from being the “producer” of this short film, is what is everyone’s roll  on a crew. And I learned fast that you better get their title right or they got snippy.

I got a list from Director’s Guild of America (DGA) and called asking people who wanted to be directors if they would be our First AD (Assistant Director), 2^nd AD (the person under the 1^st AD) and 2^nd 2^nd AD (below everyone but above the Production Assistants (PA) who do the grunt work and might have little to no experience – the true entry level job on a set).  Some said yes.  The ADs and production assistants help run the set – the 1^st AD is the one who actually yells “action” on a big set, calls lunch, makes sure the extras are in the background, etc.  It is an excellent way to learn all the ropes of how to control the army of people it takes to make a film.  That was the other thing I learned once I was on the sets – I would never look at a movie the same anymore. Now I don’t just see the actors and action on the film, I see the camera and the whole crew standing on the other side – and sometimes you can literally see them in a car reflection on the screen.

At the same time I was still helping on the other short film. I was part of the props department which I think I should have pursued more. I loved finding the “Mexican American” style to decorate the house for their story. I brought in my dollies that women made for me in the Mexican village where I lived. Unfortunately when I left I took one of the owners “American” dollies and never got a chance to return it to them. I guess that’s one of the risks of lending your house to an amateur production. Later I’d see more how to run props the right way – clear labels in ziplock bags for everything.

I also got to be in the wardrobe department which shows how desperate they were because I’m an awful dresser and even had unmatched socks on that day.  I was horrified that the clothes weren’t that organized so I couldn’t find a red shirt that the little boy needed in the shot. Everything has to match up to the previous shot so he can’t have red on one moment and blue the next.  I was frantic looking for the damn shirt and heard over the walkie talkies “we’re waiting for wardrobe”

Great, I was holding up the whole shoot. I finally found it and sent the little tot on his way.  And I got the best gift ever, alone time with the main actress who was in my favorite movie from Mexico -  Like Water for Chocolate. I had seen it in Mexico, read the book in Spanish there, then showed the movie (edited) to my Spanish 3 students. Now she was giving me the gossip.  It was wonderful.

She said the shoot was so long and they were isolated on a ranch that the bit part actors were going crazy. She and the director, Alfonso Arau (who I so admire) stopped talking but later she married her son.  The two main actors really fell in love (happens often) but stayed together (rare).  So maybe my fight with the director was normal and soon I’d find out, love would be common on a set.

Yareli, the actress, laughed with me and then went downstairs to act in a sad scene. She was on the verge of tears which made me tear up. I was blown away by her talent.

It was her last scene so the 1^st AD said she was “wrapped” and everyone clapped for her. This is the way it’s done, I learned.

Before she left she gave me her contact information on a postcard she made promoting a movie she and her husband wanted to make called “A Day without a Mexican”. I saw the finished product years later and it’s hilarious plus it got a lot of attention when Californian protestors tried to do that in the immigration debates of the 2000s.

A Cold Los Angeles Winter

No thanks to the scam artist or the temp agency, I found a job.  I actually really liked it and if I had found this job first, versus the boring office, I might have stayed and had another career path.  But this is Hollywood, Babe, and I was on to bigger things.

I was hired as a receptionist at a company that provided music and shows for radio stations throughout the world. It was interesting. The people were great. I loved answering the phone not knowing whether I would have to speak Spanish, French, Italian, or English. Plus, I loved being a DJ in college.

The problem was that it interfered with producing the short film.  Okay, so we didn’t get into section two of the Making a Short Film class, but the director told me he had the money and wanted to make the film anyhow. Plus, from meeting other people, they seemed to say that the way to make it in film, was to make a film. If he was paying, I was in.

I tried to make phone calls to recruit a crew and get things we needed (like film stock) during work hours but the phone kept ringing and it was my job to answer it. I then made calls at lunch but everyone I called was at lunch too. So, I sadly, had to leave this job. I told them it was because I was going to make a movie. The man who hired me said that he had lived in LA a long time and most of these dreams go up in smoke. I knew I was different!

Instead I applied for a job where my housemate worked – an insurance agency. Great money working on a computer all day and even better, weird hours – 6am-2pm so I could make calls all afternoon. I got the job and settled there the rest of the “school” year.

Another group that did get into section two invited me to join them (and share the now group cost of tuition). I went to one class but backed out due to my lack of money for another class. Yet, the contacts I made helped me get onto my first film sets since I was hungry jump into production, any production.

But the short film I was producing wasn’t going as great as I thought. Here I was changing my job for it, not going on with the UCLA class, and thinking of investing some of my savings into it. But the director was giving off signs that maybe he wasn’t trustworthy.  Once we got rejected by UCLA he got another writer and started hinting that she’d get credit too. In the early stages of a film career you don’t work for money, you work for credit. I needed a screen to say I was the writer so that I could then write other movies in the future.  That’s one reason I decided to work with him – to write the movie.

We had our talks and our arguments and he promised I’d get co-writing credit since I wrote the first scripts. I had heard of these things happening in Hollywood, I just didn’t think they happened so soon. I had heard the horror stories of people writing scripts and then getting written off the credit scroll.

I decided to stay with the project just to make sure I really got my credit. For mental survival, I  to put my heart into my Indigo Girls script and focused on working with women in the future.  At this time we also added another producer, a male acquaintance of mine from one of my many day jobs. All of a sudden the director and this guy (who was supposed to work under me) were talking sports and I felt pushed out.  I was starting to think men couldn’t be trusted in this town.

The dating scene was even worse. I loved all the meeting of people and networking and sometimes there was flirting. I knew my body type didn’t fit in – I wasn’t a size 6 or 10 even.  One guy at a party said “I know what you’re thinking ‘I don’t fit in’. Don’t worry. Guys will like you because you are nice”. Nice? In a town built on not nice?

I had a lot of first dates and false hopes. Even dated briefly an old friend who lived nearby but that crashed and burned from his shy and weird issues.  I mostly just networked for my career and wrote my script.  I felt like the L in Los Angeles was really for Lonliness.