Dead Person

I walked around a corner today at Summit Studios and faced my failure. ... maaaan ... ouchy momma ... I got booked just one day after signing up with a service, to be an extra at Summit Studios for the fabulous new Dead People show: DIGGING UP DEAD PEOPLE'S GRAVES in Cleveland! or DUDPG/Cleveland!! what a show concept! 3 of the top 5 shows right now are CSI shows, CSI Pomona being the highest rated show of all. I was playing a Plumber. Or at least, I was there to have my picture taken as a Plumber. A Plumber's Driver's License. I think I was more of a Prop today than "Background Talent." I know I end up a dead plumber, and I think it's by auto accident. that's what I could pick up as I heard the AD speak. The Assistant Director looked suprisingly like the guy from Withnail and I. I.

Anyway, it's McWages, of course, but they don't pay for parking totally (you have to chip in 2 dollars out of 5: You have Five dollars, now you have Three!), and you have to supply your wardrobe. I was questioned by a hostile somebody on the set, who had made up her mind that all extras are stooges, and when I was pleasant and helpful, she glared at me longer. How dare I not conform to her preset assesement. Then they took my picture, and I sat around the sat after that for about four hours before freedom. In that four hours I read an entire racist/sexist book that had the good fortune to be written by a gal with a spanish surname, so it was sanctioned and good uplifting fun! I ate breffast at the Treats Truck. Yummy tri-tip for breakfast. The Treat Truck sure makes a lot of hurts healed. Oh, and I ran into one of my peers. Former peer actually.

Let me tell you story about a man named Josh. 20 years ago this spring, I had hitched up the Chevy Cavilier and moved to Beverly. Okay, actually Studio City. A bunch of us from Nebraska State (NS), Cornholios as we called ourselves, had established a beach head at Studio City, we called it NS Terminal West. One of those residents, on who's couch I stayed, was a miserable wretch named Phillip. Phillip had a brother-in-law who worked on The Molly McDugal show. Phillip crawled right up his ass into a career. Phillip was ambitious, willing to take favors from you (but do none in return), and was constantly in your face about how much money you were making. So much so, that one of our pals got a job on CNN's Crossfire, and his first paycheck stub came back to me, (to give to Philly at my discretion) with all the money places blanked out, and the words: NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS. We would see Philly over the years, and he continued to get more plumb positions, a steady march to the gravy boat.

Well, today, when I turned the corner, there he was. I hadn't seen him in years, and I hoped-against-hope it wasn't him. Alas, the person he was talking to said "Thanks Phillip." I made a quick call to one of my good pals who works at Entertainment Tonight and has access to all sorts of data bases. "Who's some of the people involved in DUDPG/Cleveland?"

"Like who."

"Like the director."

"Oh, that's Phillip Fart-Face." Shot to the solar plexus number one. But I recovered gamely. If, with all his butt-plumbing this was all the farther he got, I could handle it. He's directing a show that I'm an extra on, but as long as he was just the director. I know he had been directing for quite a while. Nope. That sad little bit of rationale was not even given to me. He was the EXECUTIVE PRODUCER and DIRECTOR of the show that I, his former classmate (summa cum laude classmate dammit!) was being a non-union extra on at the age of 35. If that's not enough to put the self-judges in their chambers and considering all sorts of stern penalties, I don't know what is. I was glad when he didn't notice me. And yet, after I called my pal back at Entertainment Tonight (who voluntereed a shitty personal thing about him, "here's a bullet to shoot him with," he said) after I called my gal, I managed to deal with it. In fact, I was hoping I could run into him and say hello. I've come to realize it's usually more uncomfortable for the person who makes it when he's talking to the person he left behind. Sadly, they cut us loose for the day, and I didn't hunt him down. Ruined a nice day on a beautiful lot, the Summit Studios are really my favorite lot in Hollywood. Very pretty, green spaces, etc. Executive Producer. Of a Network show. Casting Decisions, Writing Decisions, Music Decisions. All the things where I feel I can make really good choices on. But today, I plumbed. In the Background.