So, any and all innuendo associated w/ the casting couch aside, I can safely say that this weekend will task me, in an oh-so-Wrath-of-Khan-but=without-the-fake-chest kind of way. I'm supposed to miraculously conjure a video camera scouring Happy Valley. This ain't New York or L.A., mah peeps; I can't just jaunt down to the local convenience store and rent some 1Ks, sandbags, and a Digital 8. So I'll have to trek to Salt Lake and beam into the Utah Film and Video Center, whose customer service ranks from 1 to a devil's handshake.
I've phoned a couple times now sheepishly seeking aforesaid video camera, and the disgruntled guy at the other end MUST have been rolling his eyes so far back he could have scanned his inner skull. Okay, so I exaggerate, sue me! Let's just say his tone of voice was no Wal-mart greeter. And if a jittery senior citizen can offer a warm welcome, why not a no doubt middle-aged malcontent? I don't need him to bake me cookies; just pretend like he doesn't think I'm an idiot.
Then I have to shoot 9 close-up scenes and an exposition shot w/ a car, people, and water; then I have to do a simple expo shot that I managed to make irritably complex in my storyboard . . . ugh. I imagined a girl clad in white holding a billowing sheet of sheer fabric in the wind, atop the mountains, etc. Crazy? No, it's art. :P
Oh, and I have some 36 drawings to do on top of that. Oh, and a Super 8 project. (Cue Mission: Impossible soundtrack here.)
So I'm off, to explore strange new people, to seek out new humiliations and new ideas, to boldly go where no real man should . . .
LIVE LONG AND PROSPER