Hell's Kitchen, white Christmas and the first 48 hours

Once again, it has been so long since I have blogged. Why is that? I have a job! That’s right. I’m an outstanding Production Assistant for Fox TV’s “Hell’s Kitchen”. So far, it’s pretty darn good and should keep me employed through possibly the end of March. So, if you are planning on asking me for money, try to do it before the end of March, to increase your chances of great fortune.

Speaking of great fortune, I have the great fortune of being in Fargo, ND – my hometown – right now! I’m sitting next to a real Christmas tree by a bay window looking out at a bunch of beautiful whiteness. And that’s not just the predominantly white citizens of Fargo. It snowed three inches the day I arrived, so I’m guaranteed a white Christmas, which is exactly what I ordered from “Hutch”, the local weather man.

Thus far, I’ve played Scrabble, drank Guinness, slept with a cat in someone else’s bed, played a guitar, played a washboard (not my abs), played Mario Kart, jumpstarted a car with a British flag on the roof, argued about pizza, argued with a pizza, got bit by a dog and had fun with family and friends. And that’s just the first 48 hours! Looking forward to more!

Loose Thoughts: "Accidentally Stupid"

Sometimes I question whether some people with whom I spend my time think I'm as smart and skilled as I know I am. (Just the fact that I wrote such a complicated sentence should be proof enough.) 

So, I often act casually as I try to prove that I am indeed smart or skilled with this or that thing. In doing so, I frequently make mistakes that wouldn't have happened if I had not tried so hard to look casual. 

Therefore, I trip on the words I speak as I explain something complex or I tip over lamps while trying to accomplish daring dance feats or I cruise over curbs while taking sharp corners in a residential street. 

Sometimes my brain is a paranoid robot of insecurity that spins into an electric cyclone of dismayed gears. But most times it's not. I like those times the best.

Close Encounters with Jerry Seinfeld

I recently worked on a TV show called "The Marriage Refs". It just so happens that Jerry Seinfeld is the Executive Producer for this promising reality/talk show. For those who don't speak TV lingo, that means he's the big boss man.

Although we were only working on a tech rehearsal for this show (which means the video we shot is not going to go on the air; it was a practice run through, so to speak), Jerry Seinfeld was with us at the studio and there was a special energy in the air.

I usually don't get too excited about spotting celebrities here in the LA area. But for some reason, even seeing Jerry's car made me giddy. As I walked past the shining white Porsche before entering the studio, I could smell the new rubber freshness of the clean, black tires and feel the engine's heat rising from under the hood. The car shined with value and esteem.

When I entered the studio and saw Jerry standing there interacting with other producers, the stage manager and the host of the show, I couldn’t keep from feeling embarrassingly excited. I had to hide the smile on my face. It was crazy how absolutely similar he is to the character he played on Seinfeld. His speech, hand gestures and laugh are all the same. I kept expecting to see Elaine doing her horrible dance near the craft services (snack) table.

Eventually, I got over the giddiness as I realized that (A) he was an executive producer, so he wasn’t there to sign autographs (no, I didn’t try to get one) and (B) he might not be as excited to see me as I was to see him. In fact, I found myself disappointed that he wasn’t reciprocating my friendly advances. I smiled at him when we were on the far side of the stage, watching the rehearsal next to each other. He didn’t seem to notice me. When he passed me in the production office hallway and I tried to gain his attention, he simply scratched at his face with a finger and walked past me. “Harumph!” I thought.

I pondered how I might make him laugh. Perhaps in the bathroom. I pictured myself next to him at an adjacent urinal and saying something funny and unexpected like, “I bet you never thought you’d be peeing next to me”. I figured that even if he didn’t laugh, it would at least be something he remembered and maybe even talked about on Conan O’Brien’s show or something. I could be one of Jerry Seinfeld’s talk show anecdotes! I’d say “That bathroom story he just told Conan is about me!”

Unfortunately for me – and fortunately for him – Jerry had his own bathroom where he could create his own anecdotes (or maybe simply do what people normally do in bathrooms).

After some thought, it occurred to me that big name stars like Jerry probably have to create a kind of wall around themselves. One that serves to keep every would be comic from chatting his ear off about their MySpace page or to keep aspiring TV show producers from pitching hackneyed shows to him (“It’s like ‘Seinfeld’, only the difference is…”). He has to create a barrier or he’d never get anything done. He’d be too busy pretending to be as interested in his fans as they are in him. (“Really? Your mom watches reruns of my show? How interesting. Go on…”)

Having said that, I do appreciate celebrities who take the time to be friendly to their fans. I’m told that Drew Barrymore and George Clooney are very gracious in that regard. It speaks well of their personalities and patience. My hope is that sometime soon, I end up in some Los Angeles bathroom, relieving myself next to George Clooney. I know he’d reciprocate.

Dance Band on the Titanic

Early this morning, I was awoken by a Roto Rooter man fixing a bad toilet-related situation in a pipe outside my window. I arose and in-line skated for a half hour. This song was in my head the whole time. Love it.

Thai Day!

My Thai landlord and her daughter live on the same property as my roommates and I, so we've gotten to know them over the course of the ten months we've lived in Burbank, CA. The story of Thai Day - which isn't a real holiday at all (I just named it that moments ago) - is an example of why they are top notch!

Dim Sum, Everybody!
Last week, my friend and I joined our landlord and her daughter in celebrating our landlord's birthday. We went to Empress Pavilion in Chinatown and our landlord paid for it! She said we are like her children! Now I have two moms. That last sentence sounded like a quote from a "progressive" TV drama in the mid-nineties.

Anyway, the Empress Pavilion serves some of the most delectable "dim sum" that a pavilion can legally have. "Dim sum" does not refer to an uneducated answer to an addition problem on a math worksheet. It refers to snacks served during tea time, a Chinese tradition. My favorite was Shiu Mai (pictured above), which are pork dumplings with savory mushrooms and flavor that will make the angel babies cry with delight.

Once you get to the Empress Pavilion, you are seated in a huge ballroom of sorts (Picture a big ballroom in a nice hotel and then fill it with tables... and Asians). As soon as you sit down, you're given hot tea and women come around from table to table with carts of steaming food that they offer you. "You want spinach dumpling?" Sometimes, I didn't know what they were offering me, but my Thai friends would "translate" Chinese English to Thai English, which I seem to understand better.

Since our landlord wouldn't let us pay for lunch, we decided it would be best to make her a cake to show our gratitude. However, we were unable to do that because she invited us to get Thai massages that very night at Master Wong's Foot Clinic in nearby Alhambra, CA!

"Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on now touch me, babe."
For months, I'd wanted a professional massage, and I was so happy to get the inside scoop on a very affordable, very effective Thai massage. Before you make any jokes about a "happy ending", I'll tell you this is not that kind of place. The only clothes you remove are your shoes and socks.

For two hours, I was rubbed, pressed, stretched, caressed, oiled, smacked and utterly relaxed by a wonderful Thai woman. There were about twenty massage recliners in this medium-sized operation, and almost all of them were filled with relaxed souls like me. I had never been massaged - professionally or otherwise - that well for such a length of time. It was amazing. As I sat in the dim light, listening to relaxing music, I distinctly remember two thoughts:

1) "This music sounds like it belongs in a 1960's early color Western movie."
...and later...
2) "I feel like I can do anything."

As much as we tried, our landlord wouldn't let us pay for the massages. She did let us tip our masseuses, and for that we were grateful. I think we both kind of felt like mooches.

Pretzels and shirtless healing
I wonder how we could ever repay our landlord. Maybe we could treat her and her daughter to a "German Day", since I think all three of us roommates have some German blood in us. It would be like our version of Thai Day.

We could start by taking the two of them to Schmidt's Brahaus for pretzels, sausage and schnitzels... and beer. Once filled to capacity with food and drink, we can nap for four hours and then visit our old friend, Dieter, German energy and touch healer. Through massage, Dieter will shirtlessly relax our bodies and minds. Wow. I think that will work! They'll love it! Thanks, Dieter!

I am a job. Have you seen me?

Ah, sonofagun. I'm still unemployed. Still actively pounding the pavement, sweating all the while, in search of a job. It's kind of a difficult task to undertake when you don't know exactly what you want to do. However, I suppose I'm open to almost anything.

The fun part
Assuming some people read this blog, I ask you, the reader, to please submit any advertisements for jobs (real or otherwise) that you think I'd be good at. No idea will be turned down!

Here is an example of a regular style job advertisement to get you started.

FULL TIME OFFICE ASSISTANT needed for some awful talent management agency in North Hollywood. Manage incoming calls and greet visitors and loiterers. Other duties include (but are not limited to) ordering office supplies, complimenting executives, learning to speak Chinese so you can order lunch from "that really yummy Asian place on Victory Boulevard with the soup spoons that don't feel right", wandering around in the parking lot, searching online for other jobs that are better than this one, and petting the interns. Interested candidates, please send your resume and cover letter to ICannotBelieveWeAreABusiness@gmail.com. NO PHONE CALLS PLEASE!!!!!!!!

If you are writing your own, made-up job advertisement...

At the bottom of this post, you'll find some adjectives, verbs, and other words that I want you to include in the job advertisement. Only those who use at least one of these words or phrases will be taken seriously. This is very serious.

Agile

Promoter

Life-Saving

Frighteningly Gifted

Hard Core

Surfing

Snowball

Freelance

Heat-Seeking

Vampire Killing

Minnesota

Lemon Pie

Squirrel Catcher

Amazing Guitar

Customer Nervous

Totally Puppies!

Corn on the Cob

Salvage

Writing Phenomenon

Testing Video Games

Free Miller High Life Lite

Badminton Star

Record-Playing

Awesome Travel

Full-Breasted

Thank you. And I await my reader-suggested fate!

Weekend Theme Song Challenge: Great Balls of Fire!

Whooey! It's been awhile since I last posted. I can blame that on several things, but the main reason is that I've been looking for work (see my two prior posts). Yay!

This past weekend, our WTSC song was Jerry Lee Lewis' "Great Balls of Fire". Read on to find out how I lived out this theme song. And check out Hyperbole Personified’s blog for her story too. It’s sure to be filled with many great balls… of fire.

Friday Night Coma
The weekend began, as it often does, on Friday night. I had drunk some beers (yes, "drunk" is the correct verb form in this sentence) and was watching our local PBS station because that's what Fridays are all about to me - being too cool for parties.

What's this? A knock at the door? It's our lovely Thai landlord/friend who lives next to us. She brought over a hot, heaping aluminum foil-like tray of Thai food! Her mother, also Thai, had just made it. And it was five to eight pounds of steamin' noodles, chicken, shrimp, green onions, carrot shavings and who knows what else! I squeezed fresh-picked lemons and sprinkled her special hot seasoning all over it. So delicious.

It's strange that I don't know the name of this particular dish, which she’s given to us twice before. Whenever I ask her what it is, she says, "It's Thai food." But she never elaborates. Mysterious...

Due to the combination of beer and my serving of Thai food that was fit for a Thai giant, I went into a lovely Thai food coma. My stomach felt like a "Great Ball of Fire"!

The Fourth of July
Saturday was the fourth of July. Jay and I had a friend over from "back home" and we spent most of the day, grilling, eating, drinking, and swimming in our pool. Some highlights were when I scraped the lenses on a pair of old aviator sunglasses on the bottom of the pool and when we made a drink called "Strip and Go Naked" (we use vodka and lemonade in lieu of limeade and Cuervo).

Feeling silly from the sun and drink, we surrendered our transportation privileges to the great Mr. Sober-er Jay, who drove us to Pasadena where we watched the Rose Bowl fireworks from the top of a parking ramp. On this parking ramp, we drank illegal beers and avoided stepping on all of the kids whose cheapskate parents had taken them to the top of this parking structure rather than shell out the dough to actually go to the Rose Bowl to see the fireworks. And what fireworks they were! They had me saying things like "Seen it before", "Big deal; it's just a bunch of gunpowder", and of course "Goodness gracious great balls of fire!"

On the way home, I couldn't help but think of Jerry Lee Lewis singing his signature song. His blondish hair flapping, his fingers feverishly slamming the piano keys and his feet dancing of their own accord. He would've never thought that some other blondish guy (and some blond girl named "Hyperbole Personified") would be writing about him on something called the "internet". Or maybe this is all part of his divine rock and roll plan.

Goodness gracious!