In my head, I know that I am not old. To my shock, this year I feel in my heart that I am. My body just does not respond like it once did, and I can no longer just drop ten pounds a week when i realize I have let myself go. I am going to have to start watching what I eat, being intentional about excercise and planning for things rather than being super spontaneous. Apparently, there will be no graceful entrance into my later years. Or maybe there will, I have no idea.
And that is another thing, as I get older, I am more aware of the things I don't know than the things I do. After meeting a know-it-all in his twenties, I commented to a friend that I had it all figured out in my twenties also and have spent the last two decades learning just how much I don't know. So, here is s hort list of things I really don't know:
Why people do the things they do
Which political party is worse
How to motivate Christians to live by faith
How to parent
How to fix a car
Which is the quickest route home from almost anywhere
Why artists feel excluded in most church environments
Where my keys are
Where my shoes are
What I was looking for and where I left it
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Part 74
I was let go at yet another job in the same year. This time the stated reason for my dismissal was, "You are an asshole, and I can't have an asshole running my company." I think that is fair enough. I was only 26 and had a lot to learn. From there, I took a job at a tiny Italian restaurant on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. This business was fascinating, because while it was a very small restaurant, it was owned by a billionaire whose office was across the street. To say that this made it an interesting job is an understatement. Our greater company was run by someone reputed to be a former member of the Israeli Mossad, and the owner also owned a casino in Vegas. At the time, this scared me to death as I thought these guys might kill me if I pissed them off. Years later I discovered who and what they really were: The owner was the man who invented junk bonds and leveraged buy outs. While we were not similar in many ways, I still learned a lot from him and those he surrounded himself with. When I left in the summer of 1994, I was surprised to find out that they really liked me.
During my time in this job, more specifically in January of 1994, two major events happened. First, in early January on the way to work, my car was hit by what appeared to be a homeless man just walking across the street. When I jumped out of my car, he attacked me. I quickly defended myself with what my memory still tells me was only four hits. As the event ended up being recorded on video, I came face-to-face with the fact that personal memory isnt that great as the video showed that I hit him at least 7 times. Unfortunately, he passed away. While I was not arrested because the LAPD officer nearby could clearly see (and had recorded on his dash cam) that I was defending myself, I did have to go through a Grand Jury proceeding (apparently this is the law, I don't know). Anyway, I was given what is called a no-bill, meaning they were not pursuing any charges against me and the case was ruled a justifiable homicide due to self-defense. What bothered me most about this was that I never felt any effects of guilt or remorse and I started to worry that something was broken inside me. Regardless of the fact that I can justify my defense, most people still struggle with some intense feelings regarding a situation such as this and I did not. I am unsure as to why this is, but it is probably the thing that mostly keeps me from grieving when people I know pass away. I can cry at a well-made commercial, but shed no tears when people die. That just seems odd.
Anyway, the other event that January happened a week or two later when the Northridge earthquake hit. I don't know if you have ever been in a major earthquake, but I have been in several: Sylmar 1971; Loma Prieta 1989; Northridge 1994 and nearby in several others. For a while there, I was in the middle of every major earthquake in California during my lifetime. I am happy to say, that season has passed. That year, we were awakened by what I would still describe as the worst shaking of any quake I had yet been in. We lived in Venice Beach in a tiny bungalow and I just reached across and pulled Cathy out of a dead sleep into the door jam for protection. It was scary, the power went out, we were violently wakened by the shaking and lets face it, we lived in the hood. I had to walk down the block to grab a flashlight out of my car and ended up having to work the next day also. We were very busy as the water in Beverly Hills was not safe so people were coming in for bottled water and a little breakfast. One aftershock caused a marble gargoyle (or something like that) to fall from the roof of our building and another had the chef and I hugging in a door jam in the storage space three levels below ground hoping to make it out. As I think of it now, it was a funny scene, but at the time it was not funny at all. I should have known that 1994 was going to be an eventful year, but to be honest, I just wasn't that introspective.
During my time in this job, more specifically in January of 1994, two major events happened. First, in early January on the way to work, my car was hit by what appeared to be a homeless man just walking across the street. When I jumped out of my car, he attacked me. I quickly defended myself with what my memory still tells me was only four hits. As the event ended up being recorded on video, I came face-to-face with the fact that personal memory isnt that great as the video showed that I hit him at least 7 times. Unfortunately, he passed away. While I was not arrested because the LAPD officer nearby could clearly see (and had recorded on his dash cam) that I was defending myself, I did have to go through a Grand Jury proceeding (apparently this is the law, I don't know). Anyway, I was given what is called a no-bill, meaning they were not pursuing any charges against me and the case was ruled a justifiable homicide due to self-defense. What bothered me most about this was that I never felt any effects of guilt or remorse and I started to worry that something was broken inside me. Regardless of the fact that I can justify my defense, most people still struggle with some intense feelings regarding a situation such as this and I did not. I am unsure as to why this is, but it is probably the thing that mostly keeps me from grieving when people I know pass away. I can cry at a well-made commercial, but shed no tears when people die. That just seems odd.
Anyway, the other event that January happened a week or two later when the Northridge earthquake hit. I don't know if you have ever been in a major earthquake, but I have been in several: Sylmar 1971; Loma Prieta 1989; Northridge 1994 and nearby in several others. For a while there, I was in the middle of every major earthquake in California during my lifetime. I am happy to say, that season has passed. That year, we were awakened by what I would still describe as the worst shaking of any quake I had yet been in. We lived in Venice Beach in a tiny bungalow and I just reached across and pulled Cathy out of a dead sleep into the door jam for protection. It was scary, the power went out, we were violently wakened by the shaking and lets face it, we lived in the hood. I had to walk down the block to grab a flashlight out of my car and ended up having to work the next day also. We were very busy as the water in Beverly Hills was not safe so people were coming in for bottled water and a little breakfast. One aftershock caused a marble gargoyle (or something like that) to fall from the roof of our building and another had the chef and I hugging in a door jam in the storage space three levels below ground hoping to make it out. As I think of it now, it was a funny scene, but at the time it was not funny at all. I should have known that 1994 was going to be an eventful year, but to be honest, I just wasn't that introspective.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Part 73
Though I was firmly entrenched in the idea that I was, first and foremost, and actor, I was still open to other art forms and engaging in different media for my voice. I got my first pitch meeting in November of 1992 with some producers I had met while working at the deli. I really didn't know much about how things worked (though you never would have known this by looking only at my arrogance and self-aggrandizing), and I still don't know how real they were. But, after picking out a concept to pursue for a Television show, they went to work on getting me a pitch meeting with a network and I gathered some friends around to do some writing. We really never accomplished anything because I chose other actors I knew who had some writing experience, and we basically accomplished nothing in our two writing sessions. In late December, as Cathy and I were headed back to San Jose for Christmas, I got the call that we would be meeting with ABC in early January. So, my first visit home, I was full of bravado and frankly, very full of myself. Unfortunately, the pitch meeting never happened and I never developed anything which would have prompted pursuit of a further appointment. The producers stopped calling or returning my calls and the project went away, as they so often do.
I was also in the process of two writing projects of my own volition. One was a novel based very loosely on when my brothers and I had run away in 1981. The other was a play about the pressure of Tolerance creating an intolerant culture. It all took place inside a jail cell in a fictional country and was called, "the caged." Mid-way through the process of writing the play, one of my friends sid it sounded more like a movie and I changed the work into a hastily written, 7 or 8 page treatment for what I envisioned in a screenplay. The difficulty is that I knew nothing about the structure of screenplays. So, in Late March of 1993, I called up my friend Paul in San Jose and asked him if he would mind writing it with me. Not having a computer, most of the writing was completed by Paul (95%) and he changed it to an action film. Paul knows what sells and is a very visual thinker, so this made sense. On the other hand, I am all about the words (dialogue), so it didn't feel like me at all. I still credit this as the first screenplay I ever finished even though I really did almost none of the writing (an occasional note on swearing, because while Paul was a good kid who really didn't swear properly, it was my everyday vernacular).
On July 2nd 1993, Paul and his wife were visiting Santa Barbara and Cathy and I drove up to pick up the completed script. I also picked up a vicious case of food poisoning, but that is an unpleasant memory and I will not disgust you with the details. After recovering from my illness, I made copies of the script and set about the foolish task of trying to prodice it myself. Gathering a little money from what turned out to be an illegal raffle (I ended up having to give most of the money back), I bought some supplies and began breaking down the script. I had absolutely no experience or knowledge of how to produce a film. I just figured that it would be roughly the same as producing a play, I was wrong. On top of the constant realization of just what I did not know, my dog actually ate some of my production board (no joke). I was so demoralized, that I let the project go. Paul was still using the script at that time to market his work as a writer.
In late July, I was fired at the Deli...by my brother no less, and with cause. My bitterness about some decisions of the GM (I was by that time a manager) were playing out in my actions and he sent my brother to deal with me. It did not cause any problems between us and I went on to my first job as a GM of an independant restaurant in Santa Monica. This only lasted 3 months, because while I was good at analyzing the issues and implementing plans, I had not yet learned how to treat people. During my time there, I was hosting a radio show on cable radio (back when no one had cable radio, and I sucked); I had begun Kenpo Karate after being away from Martial Arts for a few years; and I met a manager who was a big deal and agreed to meet with me and see where it went. He had been a Producer on The Paper Chase among other things and was managing Rob Estes (who was on Silk Stocking at the time, but went on to Melrose Place fame). I gave him the script and he asked me a simple question, "Are you an Actor, Director, Writer or Producer?" When I told him all of the above, he was not amused and told me to pick one. He told me to know who and what I was, I could do all of the above, but I could not effectively BE all of the above. To paraphrase the old Knight from the third Indiana Jones movie, I chose ... poorly. I said actor, because it was all I ever knew myself as. He set me up with a great photographer, but really didnt pursue me any longer. Unforunately, I was so full of myself as an actor and did not have the hunger which propels most actors to power through bad auditions, mean casting directors, dismissive directors and studios and producers. If I had it to do over again, I would have said producer, but it is what it is.
I was also in the process of two writing projects of my own volition. One was a novel based very loosely on when my brothers and I had run away in 1981. The other was a play about the pressure of Tolerance creating an intolerant culture. It all took place inside a jail cell in a fictional country and was called, "the caged." Mid-way through the process of writing the play, one of my friends sid it sounded more like a movie and I changed the work into a hastily written, 7 or 8 page treatment for what I envisioned in a screenplay. The difficulty is that I knew nothing about the structure of screenplays. So, in Late March of 1993, I called up my friend Paul in San Jose and asked him if he would mind writing it with me. Not having a computer, most of the writing was completed by Paul (95%) and he changed it to an action film. Paul knows what sells and is a very visual thinker, so this made sense. On the other hand, I am all about the words (dialogue), so it didn't feel like me at all. I still credit this as the first screenplay I ever finished even though I really did almost none of the writing (an occasional note on swearing, because while Paul was a good kid who really didn't swear properly, it was my everyday vernacular).
On July 2nd 1993, Paul and his wife were visiting Santa Barbara and Cathy and I drove up to pick up the completed script. I also picked up a vicious case of food poisoning, but that is an unpleasant memory and I will not disgust you with the details. After recovering from my illness, I made copies of the script and set about the foolish task of trying to prodice it myself. Gathering a little money from what turned out to be an illegal raffle (I ended up having to give most of the money back), I bought some supplies and began breaking down the script. I had absolutely no experience or knowledge of how to produce a film. I just figured that it would be roughly the same as producing a play, I was wrong. On top of the constant realization of just what I did not know, my dog actually ate some of my production board (no joke). I was so demoralized, that I let the project go. Paul was still using the script at that time to market his work as a writer.
In late July, I was fired at the Deli...by my brother no less, and with cause. My bitterness about some decisions of the GM (I was by that time a manager) were playing out in my actions and he sent my brother to deal with me. It did not cause any problems between us and I went on to my first job as a GM of an independant restaurant in Santa Monica. This only lasted 3 months, because while I was good at analyzing the issues and implementing plans, I had not yet learned how to treat people. During my time there, I was hosting a radio show on cable radio (back when no one had cable radio, and I sucked); I had begun Kenpo Karate after being away from Martial Arts for a few years; and I met a manager who was a big deal and agreed to meet with me and see where it went. He had been a Producer on The Paper Chase among other things and was managing Rob Estes (who was on Silk Stocking at the time, but went on to Melrose Place fame). I gave him the script and he asked me a simple question, "Are you an Actor, Director, Writer or Producer?" When I told him all of the above, he was not amused and told me to pick one. He told me to know who and what I was, I could do all of the above, but I could not effectively BE all of the above. To paraphrase the old Knight from the third Indiana Jones movie, I chose ... poorly. I said actor, because it was all I ever knew myself as. He set me up with a great photographer, but really didnt pursue me any longer. Unforunately, I was so full of myself as an actor and did not have the hunger which propels most actors to power through bad auditions, mean casting directors, dismissive directors and studios and producers. If I had it to do over again, I would have said producer, but it is what it is.
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