bye bye Muslim Hay, hope to see you another day

Last day on Kid Napped. I had a melt-down moment this a.m. over the tiniest of things. But, like splitting protons, it releases vast quanities of energy.

I took the bus in today, trying to be a good citizen. My cars fine, just figured there was a direct and speedy bus, I'll use it. You're not supposed to have food on the bus, so I hid a squeeze bottle of mustard in my coat. It was the only place to put it, and I had it in a little Carl's Jr. bag. Beat-up bag, but serving it's purpose. A couple of bus drivers look at my bulging coat, but I mange to keep the mustard. Bus journey complete, I walk to the extra's meeting place with my mustard. I've been ruminating about having this good brown mustard on my hot dog. They've been having hotdogs all the time on set, but with crappy yellow mustard. Ha ha, I've got gourmet brown mustard.

We load onto the extra's van, and the van is filled. This one Abe Lincoln dude I met the other day (http://no-biz.blogspot.com/2006/01/napping-kids.html) cannot get on the bus, too full. I lean forward to offer him my seat, and as I do, the bag, holding the mustard falls out from coat. With one fell swoop, honest Abe picks up the trashy looking fast-food bag, chucks it in the nearby trash, waives to me that it's fine, he'll get the next bus and shuts the van door. Clang!

[Fast dolly-in to a Close-up of my anguished faced. ]

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

"MY MUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!"

I swore to myself violently, in the manner of all good crazy people, and then rocked back and forth trying to come to terms with the loss of my brown mustard.

Wardrobe Witch got hers today. She recoiled at touching Mark de Marquis, the afore-mentioned Fiddler of Background. ( http://no-biz.blogspot.com/2006/01/napping-kids.html).

Mark de Marquis says: "Really, I'm not vermin."

The witch pouts: "Well the last shoot I was on, everyone got dysentery."

"Well, then you're in the wrong business, you're in close quarters with a tent full of MEN"

At which point all the extras started sneezing and coughing on cue. It was thrilling, to see her face turn beat-red. Later, an on-set wardrobe person said she hated this woman after working with her for two daze. Weirdrobe Witch started trying to be nice to folks after that, a sad attempt to connect. She'll prolly go home blaming everyone for her misfortune, she's that kind of person. As my pa once said "If you always think everyone else is the asshole -- YOU are probably the asshole."

Later, we had a scene where we laffed at one of our Kid Nappers, who gets the tables turned on him. Every extra was using the fuel of that scene that had just happened in Wardrobe, one of our captors getting their comeuppance.

As I arrived at the extra's meeting place, before the tragic loss of my mustard, big fat pig guy immediately told me that his stereo had been stolen.

Not "Hi, how are you, hey, what's the deal" -- but an immediate declaration of the morning's misery.

"My stereo has been stolen."

He's a sad, sad, dude. Lots of folks hate him on set because he is constantly bitching, or talking to loud, getting us in trouble, but I'm starting to have a softspot for him. He's found himself trapped in a hideous frame, and he's to blame, so there's self-loathing, mixed in with the self-pity, all conspiring to keep him miserable. Yowch.

Another extra dude looks like 95. He's only 65, but he looks ancient, apparently he's on a new liver. Meanwhile he's at craft services pounding doughnuts, Dew, and smoking ciggies like there's no tomorrow. When he's asleep in holding, you are sure he's dead and making music with the angels. You have to admire his absolute fearlessness and recklessness. If you're gonna go, go BIG.

Another extra dude was having moral dilemas. He was going to have to kill one of our Kid Nappers in a scene, and he's against violence, killing, et al.

"Well maybe you picked the wrong business," seems to be the day's theme.

He's a fun dude, this morally-troubled extra dude, always jokey, former pottery maker, who's been having trouble selling his bowls. I counsel him to look in the eyes of the kid and give him a good send-off to hell. He shivers. I realize this is truly bugging him.

Most of the day was spent goofing off, and we were cut loose early afternoon, and a day early.