tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25787283609046375662024-03-12T17:37:05.722-07:00 The Hills Are Burning The view of Hollywood from somewhere below the line.A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.comBlogger524125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-60782775707926754442022-07-28T15:23:00.036-07:002022-07-28T15:23:00.162-07:00"What Did I Give Up?"<p> </p><p><i>*Note: As previously mentioned, I'm going through an old journal and posting some entries here. This is one of them.</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p>What did I give up?</p><p>I left a show, a <i style="font-weight: bold;">family</i>, that's been there fore me for the past eight years to spend the next five months working with strangers, all for a Gaffer I'm not even sure I like. One who often promises things he'll forget about or not follow through on. </p><p>I've given up day playing with people I haven't seen for over a year to work for someone who never once asked me if I was okay when I got sick on his show. I given up up working with people who care about me to work for someone who ignores me once someone else starts talking.</p><p>Right now, I feel like I don't fit in here. I don't know what he expects of me. Honestly, I'm not even sure what I expect from myself. And I don't know why he practically begged for me to be here if he's just going to cast me aside. I feel somewhat lost and lonely, which is something I haven't felt in a while. If ever. </p><p>I don't feel like I made the wrong choice by being here. But I don't feel excited or happy about this opportunity either. </p><p>Maybe because I don't have a sense of purpose here and I keep thinking about the other jobs I could be on. The projects where I'm valued and it's noticed when I'm gone. Projects where we work as a team. Where I feel like I'm somebody and matter. </p><p>Am I feeling sad because I'm mourning the loss of my "other life"? The loss of [a longtime co-worker]? Both? Or am I just that unhappy here? How do I figure this out?</p><p><br /></p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-81628877675358784732022-07-19T18:13:00.024-07:002022-07-19T18:13:00.153-07:00My Gamble: Update.<p> </p><p>The previous post was a journal entry from years ago, and the follow up to it is that yes, I felt lost during those five months. And I was miserable at work. But I did make the right choice in going. </p><p>As adrift as I was during that time, not knowing where I fit in with the local crew, it was definitely an opportunity of a lifetime and I would have regretted it had I not taken it. Travelling while working was something I thought would be so fun when I was a kid and honestly, that was part of the appeal for me in joining this industry. I wanted to travel and make movies and get paid for it so I did this for childhood me. I can spend the rest of my career doing TV shows in LA, but at least I can say that, if only for a little while, I had my dream career.</p><p>I also not only got to experience a difference culture, but I got to fully immerse myself in it for a few months. I learned how to live in a different country on my own (maybe with a little help from production) and travel around in that country on my own (we won't talk about the time I boarded the wrong train). I learned (parts of) a new language that I still swear in from time to time. </p><p>I met new people and forged new relationships that lasted well past the expiration date of the job. One in particular, after surviving the hurdle of keeping in touch after the show ended, I hoped would last a lifetime. Instead, it was disappointment after disappointment before it's abrupt and heartbreaking end. But I still don't regret it. It was what it was and I'm grateful for the good times we did have.</p><p>I guess that's kind of the takeaway from all of it. During those five months, I did feel lonely. I did feel lost. I felt useless at work. I felt like an outsider most of the time. But there were pockets of good times. Great memories. I'll have stories to tell for years. Insights that others may never get. Once in a lifetime experiences. My childhood dream was fulfilled. </p><p>Despite sometimes being unhappy there and some things falling apart when I got back, I don't regret going. I made the right choice. Otherwise I would've spent the rest of my life wondering "what if..." and to me, that's worse than anything that could've happened...</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-78203012161823411492022-07-13T18:00:00.017-07:002022-07-13T18:00:00.172-07:00My Gamble.<p> </p><p><i>*Note: As previously mentioned, I'm going through an old journal and posting some entries here. This is one of them.</i></p><p><br /></p><p>I am essentially alone, 5,000+ miles away from anyone I know. Today is the first day I've actually thought about what I've done. That I'm actually taking some kind of risk instead of just taking an opportunity. </p><p>Part of the reason why I've day played for the last year and a half is because I enjoyed the freedom. I could say "no" if I didn't like any aspect of the job. I turned down at least three full time spots on jobs with people I actually like because I didn't want to be tied down. </p><p>And now, here I am, 5,000+ miles and five months from anyone I know, and 5,000+ miles and five months away from another job, I've come 5,000+ miles to work for someone I barely knew a handful of years ago and haven't heard from since. If I'm miserable here, I'll be miserable for five months, including 85+ shooting days. And if I'm lost, I'll be lost until at least December. I'll be feeling adrift for that long and I hate feeling adrift at all. </p><p>If this doesn't work out, I'm trapped.</p><p>But I suppose this is what they mean when they say the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward. I just hope I made the right choice...</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-77800895380216221992022-07-09T17:36:00.001-07:002022-07-09T17:36:12.909-07:00Hello.<p> </p><p>I had no idea it's been so long since I posted anything. I thought maybe a couple months had gone by instead of half a year! </p><p>Truth is, I've been in a blah mood. I'm still running with some good crews and stayed away from the previously written about shit crew, but when I don't have the distraction of work, I'm feeling unmotivated. It's been almost a year since that show wrapped and honestly, I still think about it a lot. I still keep in touch with a few people there (I loved them enough to stay after all) but sometimes I think back to how terribly I was treated and how those I needed to have my back, didn't. I think I suffered a lot of mental trauma from that show, questioning my self worth and my self esteem taking a hit. It took a long time for me to be comfortable actually participating on set when I went back to day playing and sometimes it still surprises me that co-workers are looking at me when I'm speaking, because they're actually listening to me. How fucked up is that? (How fucked up am I?)</p><p>Anyway, I'm hoping that I'll eventually be in a good enough place to write about it. This blog is kind of a journal of my life in this industry, and it wouldn't be complete without this chapter, especially since it's effected me so. But I'm still trying to wrap my head around what exactly happened and see the bigger picture. I need some clarity before I can step back and reflect on it. And as I've tried to spend the past year trying to figure that out, life also keeps coming at me. Loved ones have passed. Loved ones have left. New worries arise while the old worries are still hanging around. These past few months have been a lot and I'm just trying to get through it all, one step at a time.</p><p>I'll get through it all eventually. I just don't know when. But in the meantime, I found an old journal with some stories that relate to this industry, so I might post those. Maybe converting them here will inspire me to write more and get me out of this funk I'm in. </p><p>Sorry for being M.I.A. I hope you're still here reading.</p><p>Love,<br />-A.J.</p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-36641629952823371832022-01-12T16:05:00.201-08:002022-01-12T16:05:00.190-08:00"Don't Leave."<p>I wanted to quit. I was going to quit. I was deeply unhappy on this job and as much as I liked some of the people, one of them was a horrible enough person to spoil it for everyone. I wanted to leave.</p><p>I had planned on letting the Gaffer know at wrap that I was going to be leaving the show and why.* He was the one who hired me, after all, so I figured I'd owe him at least that much. But then I got a phone call during lunch that changed those plans. </p><p>The phone call itself wasn't an important one. It was about a job over the weekend that I was going to do regardless of whether I had quit my show or not. The important part was that one of my colleagues had overheard/misheard part of my conversation and assumed I was leaving the show. </p><p>"Please don't go," he said. "It's so terrible here, I don't know if I could stay if you weren't around."</p><p>I sighed. Fine, I thought to myself, I'll just stick it out a little bit longer and take it from there.</p><p>Some more time had passed and things only seemed to have gotten worse. Or maybe it just seemed worse because the misery had been going on for so long now. Either way, I was seriously thinking of quitting again.</p><p>This time, another friend must have sensed it was coming. He's seen me metaphorically kicked around the most and has been the main person I vented to whenever another incident happened, which was a lot on this show. But I guess he felt that this particular episode would be the one that broke the camel's back and after listening to be vent for the millionth time, he asked me not to quit. I hadn't mentioned to him I was thinking of quitting, before or now, but he still asked me to stay. He said he hated it there, too. But hanging out with me made things more bearable. So I stayed.</p><p>Some time later, surprise! Things were still terrible. I was crying on my way home from work a lot and we weren't even halfway through shooting the season. There were other jobs starting up with people I knew would love to have me that I enjoyed working with. I had to leave for my own sake. </p><p>But again, another colleague must've sensed how bad things were getting. We were eating lunch together one day, just the two of us at catering, when he asked me not to leave. He hated it there but couldn't leave. He depended on this crew for work and didn't know if he could fall in with another as easily. But what he did know was that I made things better there and things would be worse if I left the show. He's a sweetheart of a guy to the point that I can't stand to see him sad, so again, I stayed.</p><p>Again and again, people kept asking me to stay. Some of them repeats, some of them new. All of them saying that the show was terrible, everyone was miserable, but things would be worse if I wasn't there. Apparently I would be the highlight of their fucking day, if that give you any clue to how awful the job was. **</p><p>All in all, about half of my entire damn department had asked me at one point or another to not quit. </p><p>Only one of my colleagues said they would support me if I chose to leave the show. She saw the horrible way I was being treated. She knew I deserved better. She'd been in my position before and had to resort to extreme measures because she didn't know how else she could get out of it. She didn't want me to go through what she did. She saw me struggling and gave me her full support should I decide to walk away from the show. She said she would be sad if I left, but she'd understand why. But she didn't have it that much better on the show that I did, she just had more chances to hide from it. I felt like she was the only one who <i>really</i> saw the mental toll this job was taking on me, and in turn, I think I was the only one to see how much she was struggling as well. So despite her giving me permission to leave, I stayed for her sake as well. Her support meant the world to me and I could sense that she could use some support as much as I did. So I stayed for her. </p><p>Despite coming close to walking away from this job so, so many times, I eventually made it to the finish line. Things never got better, though it may have felt that way at times. I think instead I just came to expect getting treated like shit and could predict when the hardest hits would happen, which, when I think about it, just makes it all worse. </p><p>In the end, I learned that I'm the type of person, that despite it being <strike>one of</strike> <i>the </i>worst job I've ever been on, I do not regret staying in misery for half a year for my friends. I'm glad I could make things better for them. However, there's no way I can ever go through that again. If put in the same situation now as I was then, I would leave. </p><p>I guess you don't really know how much something affects you until you look back on it. It's been five months since we wrapped and I still tear up when I think about how I was treated. How worthless people made me feel there. It took months for me to feel like my old self again on a job, and if I'm being 100% honest, I'm not really there yet. </p><p>As much as I want to be selfless and be the type to do anything for my friends, the reality is that I need to start being more selfish and put my wellbeing before others. I can't help anyone if there's no more "me" around. I learned that I need to be selfish for myself because there's no one else to be selfish for me. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>*It's probably important to note at this point that shockingly, Production wasn't the problem here. The misery was 100% caused by people within my own department which is probably the most disappointing thing of the entire situation.</p><p>**<i>How</i> this terrible job ended up so terrible is another post. Coming up soon-ish.</p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-68450741284836477332022-01-08T16:04:00.001-08:002022-01-08T16:04:34.643-08:00Optimist.<div><br /></div><div>I realized I hated the show I was on last year when I'd spend my commute home fighting back tears (though oftentimes, I wouldn't even fight it). Almost every day. I know I should've quit but for personal reasons I'll touch on soon, I couldn't. </div><div><br /></div><div>So almost every day, I'd cry on my way home. </div><div><br /></div><div>But today, in some kind of morbid way, I learned that I'm at least an optimist. Because my tears always came at the end of the day. </div><div><br /></div><div>I never once cried on the drive in.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's something, I guess...</div>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-21538575804381758862021-10-03T15:24:00.000-07:002021-10-03T15:24:50.063-07:00Ugh.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As you may have gathered from my last post, I was essentially going thorough a form of personal hell on my last job. And I'm not even being dramatic about it. I was miserable every day for several months. Thankfully, the show is over but it is far from behind me. I'm still dealing with the mental ramifications of it as it definitely had an effect on my personal relationships as well as my professional ones, and, quite frankly, it messed me up. So until I work it all out (and I <i>am </i>trying my best to move on), I've sadly got nothing for you. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">....Except this hella infuriating photo. Seriously. Who does this??</div></div> <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wzuFjabehzY/YVorHiJaScI/AAAAAAAABGQ/KS9BEzjSKIYtCfPm-b4AGTva541mUhvygCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_20210514_171401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wzuFjabehzY/YVorHiJaScI/AAAAAAAABGQ/KS9BEzjSKIYtCfPm-b4AGTva541mUhvygCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_20210514_171401.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-64701140993160710962021-07-05T12:11:00.000-07:002021-07-05T12:11:04.626-07:00Remember This Feeling...<br />Remember this feeling of loneliness. The crying. The feeling of being worthless and useless. The not being listened to. The being ignored. The being told you don't know anything. The walking on eggshells. The egos. The mood swings. The misogyny that didn't even try to be hidden. The alliances formed where teamwork should have been.<div> <br />Remember how you ended every drive home fighting back tears as you thought about the day. Remember how you were sitting in traffic and burst out crying when it suddenly hit you how much you wanted to quit. How you suddenly found yourself hating a job that you used to love. How you found yourself not caring about something you used to care so much about. How, for the first time in fifteen years of doing this job, you find yourself being filled with dread at the thought of going into work every morning. How this job turned you into someone you don't even recognize anymore.<br /><br />Remember all this so you don't get sucked into it again. Remember all this because, more often than not, time makes you forget the pain and only remember the good. So if they invite you back on the next show, don't think about the people you did stay for. Don't think about the rare moments of happiness that existed between all the yelling. And definitely don't think that maybe next time it'll be different. It won't be. Don't let them fool you. Don't think that they'll treat you any better. Don't think that old habits won't die hard.<br /><br />But do <i>think about yourself</i> <i>for a change</i>.<br /><br />Don't look back at the past with rose colored glasses. Don't let history repeat itself. Take what you can from this job. Make the best lemonade you can out of this batch of rotten, fucked up lemons you were given, and then move on. Say your goodbyes at the end of the show and mean them. Walk away knowing that you tried. That you held up your end of the bargain but they didn't hold up theirs. Walk away knowing that the problem lies 100% with them and 100% not with you. </div><div><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div><b>Walk away with grace and<i> don't look back.</i></b><br /><br />Remember that <b>you deserve better than this</b>. Remember that you <i>ARE </i>better than this. That you deserve to work with people who appreciate you. That know who you really are. That know what you can do and what you can bring to the table if they let you. That will listen to your opinions and treat them with respect. </div><div><br /></div><div><b><i>Remember that you have value and know what you're worth. <br /></i></b><br />Remember all this because you know yourself. You know that you'll eventually consider working with these people again because you'll rationalize it as "not being so bad." You know that time will dull the pain of what you felt on this job and you'll only remember the fun times, but forget that <b><i>you've never wanted to quit a job more</i></b>. <br /><br />Never forget that part. Never say yes to these people again. Remember this feeling because they are holding you back when all you want now is to be free.<br /><br /><br /></div>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-88134823747055982962021-05-15T17:10:00.001-07:002021-05-15T17:30:42.221-07:00How Not To Do A Grounding Bond.<div><span style="font-size: medium;">Electricity is a weird thing that most people don't understand. They just flip on a light switch or plug in their phone charger and go about their day without really giving it another thought. In reality, it's a weird, almost magical thing that involves a web of science, theory and mathematical calculations. I've studied it, read books on it, and work with it daily and honestly I still don't understand it 100%.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">But one thing I do (mostly) understand is "bonding". The ground in most electrical systems acts as a safety net of sorts and when there's more than one electrical system being used (like on a location where production may use the location's electrical outlets/"house power" while also bringing in their own generator) it's important to connect the two grounds so both systems are on the same "plane," so to speak. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">This is often done by attaching a <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=grounding+clamp&sxsrf=ALeKk00pBH_papWjDCaVkPXY4v5NTALkrw:1621123921826&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwio3fyb9czwAhXOsZ4KHWH3CA0Q_AUoAnoECAEQBA&biw=1325&bih=631">grounding clamp</a> to the grounding rod of the house we're shooting at (usually located below the electrical box of the location) and running the (appropriately sized) cable back to the generator and attaching the other end to the ground there. A good rigging crew knows this and is prepared to do this, seeing as how a Fire Marshall can shut the show down for the day if this isn't done. It's that important.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">A bad rigging crew, however, will do this:</span></div><div><br /></div><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kHGmp9wVs40/XQl9WIsOyDI/AAAAAAAAA-o/O1moQEMJUlYs6emaje4yv9BNjb-MH5rWQCLcBGAs/s1600/0212181223.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1055" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kHGmp9wVs40/XQl9WIsOyDI/AAAAAAAAA-o/O1moQEMJUlYs6emaje4yv9BNjb-MH5rWQCLcBGAs/w422-h640/0212181223.jpg" width="422" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
Note: out of all the ways you can safely run a grounding bond, taking the female Hubbell off a stinger, taping it to the grounding rod, and plugging the male end into the nearest distro box is not the proper way to do it, or at all acceptable, for many reasons. And to do all that without at the very least capping the <b><i>live wires</i></b> with wire nuts? ... I literally have no words. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-823474537813276292021-03-12T14:17:00.002-08:002021-03-12T14:17:00.391-08:00Diversity, Pt. 2.<p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WVl9E03aecE/YErJzPj-6iI/AAAAAAAABEc/BlLpHxCYEAc1LyEPKzWhATbwmN3cVVJuACLcBGAsYHQ/s880/can-you-find-the-panda-4__880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="880" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WVl9E03aecE/YErJzPj-6iI/AAAAAAAABEc/BlLpHxCYEAc1LyEPKzWhATbwmN3cVVJuACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/can-you-find-the-panda-4__880.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>One of these things is not like the other, pt. 2</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><br />A <a href="https://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2021/01/diversity.html">previous</a> post of mine produced a couple of interesting comments that I thought would make an interesting follow up.</p><blockquote><p><br /></p><dt class="comment-author " id="c1926037958137416814" style="background-color: #f3f3f3; background-position: 0px 1.5em; border-top: none; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-left: -45px; padding-left: 45px; padding-top: 0px;">Anonymous said...</dt><dd class="comment-body" id="Blog1_cmt-1926037958137416814" style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0.5em 25px 0.5em 0px;"><p style="margin: 0px;">As a white female AC, I never considered myself "diverse" but this has started happening to me often. I recently found out at the end of a show that the DP had been forced to fire his go-to AC last minute to hire me - an AC he'd never met and didn't yet trust. It explained a lot about the unspoken dynamics that I had no way of knowing about. The minute I stepped on that set I was at an automatic disadvantage, joining an all-male crew who looked at me as the one who got their buddy kicked out.<br /><br />Hiring more diverse crews is a great priority and long overdue. But in the shady and often last-minute way production handles this goal, all the pressure gets put on below-the-line crew. There has to be a better way...right?</p></dd></blockquote><p> </p><p>First off, that is a shitty situation for her to be placed in. At the very least, she should have been told why they hired her. And I don't mean in a "I didn't want to but they made me hire you" asshole kind of way, but she someone should have mentioned to her that she's a "political hire." Knowing the story surrounding your out-of-the-blue employment can help you asses workplace situations better. If you're hired because the last guy kept posting the show's storylines on Twitter, you might be more conscientious of how much time you spend on social media while at work. If you're hired because the lasts guy broke his leg and is on disability, you might relax a bit more and just enjoy the ride knowing you're only a placeholder until he can walk again. And if you're replacing your predecessor simply because you're female, you deserve to know that, too. So when the loader is giving you attitude or the DP is ignoring your suggestions, you can better asses if the situation is because of something you may have done or if it's more likely that they're sour from having to replace their long time friend with you. Context matters.</p><p>She should've also been told so she could decide for herself whether or not she wants to be placed in that kind of environment to begin with. It's hard enough to come in on a show where you don't know anyone as it is, but it's even harder when you're the reason their core group isn't together anymore. It can take a mental toll on you when you don't get along with your department and you have to spend 12-16 hours a day with them, five days a week. Of course, ideally, we would love to live in an "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar" world where all women would take this challenge on with gusto just to prove the patriarch wrong, but this is real life. This business is hard. Not everyone is up for this challenge. Not everyone wants to suit up for battle everyday. Some of us just want to work hard for colleagues that appreciate us. Some of us would prefer to surround ourselves with people who like having us around. It's okay to not want to subject yourself to a hostile work environment in the name of "equality," especially when it shouldn't be a burden for just women to bear. I didn't sign on this business to be a martyr. Men should be fighting for women to have a seat at the table just as hard as we are. </p><p>Bottom line, Anonymous should have been told the events surrounding her hire well before the end of the show. I get it. Telling someone you didn't choose to hire them isn't a very nice thing to say and doesn't make you look very good, and I know from experience that hearing it isn't so great either. But it's important information to know because then I can make an informed decision about whether or not I want to take the job, and if I do, I can figure out the best way to handle certain situations that may pop up during the course of the shoot. And above all, I deserve to know because <i><b>I. Am. A. Human. Being.</b></i> I am a real person who should be allowed to make my own decisions. I am not just a Pretty Little Diversity Prop™ to be brought in to make you, your department, or your production look good. </p><p>Anonymous also poses the question: "There has to be a better way...right?" </p><p>There is obviously a lot wrong with the way "diversity" is being practiced on productions right now. A lot of shows are just telling their department heads to hire minorities and then pat themselves on the back. Some other shows are telling those departments who to hire, and then patting themselves on the back. Either way, while I appreciate the effort and it is a step in the right direction, it's not exactly the best way to do it. A friend of mine works for a very prominent post house and says he loves that his company is trying to be more forward with this, but they're doing so by promoting women that aren't anywhere near having the skills to do the job they're suddenly promoted to. This leads to frustration among the existing staff, more work on their plates and the result is an inferior product. It's gotten to the point where he and some of his colleagues are considering leaving the company. Another friend of mine was on a show that was so gung ho on having a diverse crew that when the town was so busy they couldn't find a woman to work in one of the departments, production actually found and <i>hired one from out of town</i>. They flew her in, gave her a place to stay for the next few months and gave her a per diem, etc. While I applaud that show's commitment to diversity, I question what kind of change did they foster in the end? Once the show wraps and Ms. Imported Labor returns to her hometown, what really changes? The guys here aren't any more committed to hiring women than before the show started. The pool of women to hire from hasn't increased. And since she's not local, Ms. Imported Labor can't add these guys to her list of potential work calls. In essence, nothing has really changed. </p><p>So what's the better way? Like most things, you need to start from the ground up. You need to foster women, and other minority groups, at the beginning stages of their careers. I remember working with a number of women during my "copy, credit, meals" days. Sure, there were obviously more men than women then, too, but I remember running into more women that did grip and electric then than I do now. Instead of being the only female on most of my jobs now, I used to have at least one other woman in my department every second or third show I was on and it was great! However, as I moved on to bigger and better jobs, they've all but disappeared. Thinking back to the several women I had worked with back when I was <i>really</i> just starting out, I only know of one that's still in the business, but she had switched over to camera. Did every guy I know back then make it to the big leagues? Of course not, but I do see a hell lot more of them around.</p><p>So what happened to all the women I started out with? I don't know, but based on the <a href="http://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2010/10/keep-on-trying-charlie-brown.html">amount</a> of <a href="http://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2009/06/gaffer-can-shove-c-stand-up-his-ass-for.html">sexism</a>, <a href="https://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2011/01/hey-youre-not-useless-afterall.html">comments</a>, and <a href="https://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2011/08/can-you-believe-hes-still-single.html">misogyny</a> I've experienced on my way up, I can only guess they weren't given enough chances and opportunities and/or were just tired of the constant battles. </p><p>In other words, we need to foster the idea of more women in this industry at an earlier stage. While it's great that Oscar winners and other big time names are advocating for parity on set, if you're only thinking about parity by the time you're working on a big budget movie, there may not be a pool of qualified women to pull from that can work at that level. However, if you fight for equality on those shitty shows, the movie of the weeks, the low budget commercials, those short form webisodes, and bring them up with you on to the network TV shows, the mid-tier movies, those big brand commercials, there will be a wonderfully diverse pool of Oscar caliber crew to pull from. If we wait to accept women only when they've made it to a certain level, it's already too late.<br /><br /></p><p>A second comment on my previous post on this topic states:</p><blockquote><dt class="comment-author " id="c4002563620045518096" style="background-color: #f3f3f3; background-position: 0px 1.5em; border-top: 1px solid rgb(238, 238, 238); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-left: -45px; padding-left: 45px; padding-top: 1.5em;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/profile/16732683420405850358" rel="nofollow" style="color: #33aaff;">Phillip Jackson </a>said...</dt><dd class="comment-body" id="Blog1_cmt-4002563620045518096" style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0.5em 25px 0.5em 0px;"><p style="margin: 0px;">I feel ya, to me the fix isn't the current white boss hiring "diversity" but actually put people who would naturally hire those folks to begin with. Power doesn't like to give up power. Hire a cis white male gaffer, he's going to hire cis white males. But I find that step is much harder to force since those Hollywood execs aren't really down to not be in that hiring power.</p></dd></blockquote><p>While I don't necessarily disagree with him, I do have mixed feelings about this, especially the "Hire a cis white male gaffer, he's going to hire cis white males" part. This is where I'm going to have to be <i>that</i> person and say "not all men". I honestly wouldn't be in the position I am today if it wasn't for a cis white male gaffer that gave me my start. Literally almost no one would hire me except for dead-end production companies and "passion projects" off of Craigslist. It was a string of extraordinary circumstances that led to me meeting him and he took me under his wing, brought me on some big jobs, and introduced me to other higher ups with a more than generous recommendation of my abilities. He was an older gaffer on his way out, and he told me he was doing this because he thought about what kind of legacy he was leaving behind in this business and decided he wanted to promote changes for the better. And while I can't vouch for what his hiring practices were in the several decades before I met him, he gave be a healthy foundation to build my career on before he retired. </p><p>I guess what I'm saying is that the "trick" isn't to <i>not</i> hire white cis male Gaffers (or any other department head), but to hire people who hire diverse crews on their own. Productions need to look at their track records before handing over a deal memo for them to sign. Has the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/NowThisEntertainment/videos/cinematographer-alan-caso-calls-out-privilege-during-award-speech/1733170343411187/">DP spoken out</a> on the subject before? Have they signed a <a href="https://www.womennmedia.com/parityinaction/">parity pledge</a>? Who do they usually hire? DPs who are committed to diversity are more likely to hire Gaffers, ACs, and Key Grips who share that same view. So while we're fostering women from the ground up, we also have to remember that change comes from the top down. As Phillip said, we need to "actually put people who would naturally hire those people [in meaningful positions] to begin with."</p><p>The last thing I'll touch upon (for now) on the topic of diversity placement is to think about who you're giving those "opportunities" to and realize <i>they are real people </i>who may not exactly be thrilled to be hired based on a quota. Am I grateful to be considered for a job I probably wouldn't have been called for under any other circumstances? Sure. Am I thrilled that the circumstance is solely because I don't have a penis? No. </p><p>I, and I assume most of us, would prefer to be hired on our merit. Hire me because I'm a badass tech, not because you have to fill a quota. Hire me because you want to be a part of positive change, not because someone is making you. Hire me because you believe having a diverse crew will make you a better boss, a better human being, and give you a more well-rounded crew, which in turn will give you a better show, a better product, which, in the end, means you gain more power instead of losing it. Hire us so we can show you what we're capable of.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><i>Happy Women's Month, everybody!</i></p><p><br /></p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-15616421192412630752021-02-16T16:15:00.001-08:002021-02-16T16:15:10.025-08:00Which Job Are You On?<p> </p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Hey, let's get an 18K on a roadrunner in the backyard." </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The call came over the radio and we all snapped into action, some of us heading to the yard to scope out the power situation while others head over to the truck to start pulling the pieces. Everyone got to work except for a dayplayer still looking at his phone. "I'll catch up in a minute," he said. "I'm almost done with my paperwork for the job I'm on tomorrow."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Okay. Not a problem. There's more than enough people to handle one light.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Later on another call came over the radio. "Camera sees some of our gak and cable in the shot. Can we get some people over to the west side of the building to clear it?" </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Again, we snap into action and in seconds we're all grabbing a piece of cable to move it out of frame. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">...Everyone except for that one guy. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"It's okay, dude. We got it," one of my colleague says to him rather sarcastically.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Oh, sorry. I'm in the middle of e-mailing production on my job next week about my rentals."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Some more time passes and it's time for us to light a new scene. We clear out the old lights and reposition everything on the other side of the yard. It's a pretty busy set up and surprise, homeboy is no where to be found.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Finally we're all set and return to staging where we find him plugging in his phone. "I was on a phone call with the best boy I'm working with tomorrow," he explained. "Did I miss anything?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Shortly after, another call for a light comes on the radio and again, everyone starts moving except for the dayplayer. "I gotta answer this text. It's about the next job I'm doing."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">My other colleague has had enough at this point, stops what he's doing and asks him, "Okay. <b>But which job are you on <i>now</i>?</b>"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The dayplayer takes the hint, puts his phone away, and grabs a light. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Listen, we all know dayplaying can be a hustle. You're trying to fill your week with calls and that means occasionally being on the phone while you're on another job. But constantly dealing with other shows while ignoring the one you're supposed to be working on is poor form. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Don't ever forget what job you're actually on. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-87960918034573343012021-01-03T04:15:00.160-08:002021-01-03T04:15:05.273-08:00Diversity.<p><br /></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EJps-Xm3i44/X_EisZEtL4I/AAAAAAAABDk/O9MpWvb_ficXZ0cFaal5V6kG1--u2HHzQCLcBGAsYHQ/s880/can-you-find-the-panda__880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="880" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EJps-Xm3i44/X_EisZEtL4I/AAAAAAAABDk/O9MpWvb_ficXZ0cFaal5V6kG1--u2HHzQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/can-you-find-the-panda__880.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>One of these things is not like the other.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p><p><br /></p><p>"So how did you end up working with the Gaffer?"</p><p>I was helping a day player button up his condor for the night when he asked me this question. I had been with this particular crew for some time now, but this was the guy's first day with us so our conversations were peppered with getting-to-know-you questions.</p><p>"Oh, I did a pilot with him a while back."</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Yeah. One of his guys threw my name in the hat because production wanted more diversity in their crew and apparently I was the only option available," I said, adding a slight chuckle at the end of my reply. I thought back to how on my first day with them, I was expecting to see different genders and ethnicities peppered into the crew but when I showed up, my entire department was made up of white males with the exception of me. "Three years later and I'm still here."</p><p>"Oh, yeah," the guy replied, though he didn't seem to find the humor in my answer, "My usual Gaffer ended up doing a show like that. We had to let go of a few of our regular guys." The way he said it made it clear that he wasn't happy about that. </p><p>Nor do I really blame him. I like most of the people I work with and am always sad when I no longer get to work with any one of them, but at the same time, he didn't seem to see what his comment was implying: that his usual crew was made up entirely of white, straight, males. And in addition, it didn't seem like he saw any problem with that. </p><p>As more and more shows are pushing for diversity and gender parity, and that's a great thing, I will say that I don't always agree with their tactics. (But that's a much longer post for another time.) And while it has happened more than a few times now, I'm not exactly thrilled that the only reason why I'm on a crew is because "production made them hire" me. I'm a set lighting tech, not a human prop. But in all the times I've been hired in the name of "diversity" I've never once not been called back to work with a crew, even when they move on to shows without a quota requirement. So while they probably would have never hired me on their own to begin with, I'm obviously good enough to keep around when given the chance. </p><p>I'm not saying that any "diversity hire" my day playing colleague's Gaffer had to bring on is any better than any of the guys he had to let go, but the fact that there wasn't someone already in his repertoire shows that he doesn't really give a shot to those who don't come with a certain type of privilege to begin with. And that's a problem. If there was any diversity in his crew at all, their unit would still be intact. </p><p>The conversation died and we packed up the rest of the gear in silence. Then he headed in one direction while I headed in another.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-35700303303647033062020-11-24T08:31:00.000-08:002020-11-24T08:31:00.450-08:00Thanksgiving 2020.<p> </p><p>I'm still here. I haven't abandoned this blog. I just haven't updated it in a while because I don't know what to say.</p><p>I don't have any funny anecdotes to share, or any new insights to wax poetic about. And while I want this space to reflect my life in this business, I certainly don't want to turn it into a Pandemic Blog™.</p><p>So I've just been chugging along these last couple of months. I've been working, but honestly, it's been a weird and confusing vibe. I'd share it, but I just don't know what to make of it just yet. </p><p>I guess what I'm trying to say is, that while this space may be silent, I'm okay. I'm surviving through all the testing, false positive scares, misinformation and shut downs, both <a href="https://deadline.com/2020/11/3-series-pause-production-a-pilot-delayed-cbs-studio-center-positive-covid-tests-why-women-kill-call-your-mother-mythic-quest-lucy-liu-abc-pilot-1234613287/">at work</a> and <a href="http://publichealth.lacounty.gov/media/coronavirus/">outside</a> of it. And I hope you are, too.</p><p>I hope everyone is staying informed with this rapidly changing and often confusing time we're in. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. And I hope everyone is <a href="https://www.alamedaca.gov/files/assets/public/alameda-pio/masks-poster.png?w=1100&h=1700">keeping each other safe</a> as well. </p><p>I hope that this Thanksgiving, we won't look at what we're missing out on, but instead be thankful for what we do have. Our (hopefully) health. Food on the table. Loved ones that we not only miss, but miss us as well. And the will and good judgement to stay home this holiday, no matter how hard it may seem. </p><p>Because believe me when I say, this virus doesn't care if it's "just one dinner" or "just a few people" or even "we all tested negative the other day..."</p><p>On second thought, I guess I do have a crazy anecdote to share! But until I can put it into words, stay safe and follow the recommended guidelines. No one is above the rules on this one.</p><p>And definitely treat yourself to an extra slice of pie on Thursday. Because it's 2020.</p><p><i><b>Happy Thanksgiving.</b></i></p><p><br /></p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-34561340638338309252020-09-20T09:30:00.000-07:002020-09-20T09:30:57.827-07:00"You're Lucky You're Working." Part II.<p> </p><p>Ladies and Gentlemen, I've got some news: I have returned to work.</p><p>I happened suddenly, and a while ago, and boy oh boy, did everyone have an opinion on it.</p><p>There were a few, "It's too soon!" and "That's great!" but the main one I heard was "You're lucky."</p><p>"You're lucky to be working right now."<br />"You're lucky to be working right now when no one else is."<br />"You're lucky."<br />"You're lucky."<br />"You're lucky."</p><p>But am I lucky?</p><p>Almost a decade ago, it was pilot season and to say the town was busy is a massive understatement. I was pulling in 5-6 days of work a week, all with good rates and good people, bouncing around from various show to various show. I finally had a day off with nothing booked and was just about to settle onto my couch for a glorious evening of couch potato-ing when a text came in from a phone number I didn't recognize. </p><p>"Are you available tonight? Crew call is 6pm and we'll shoot until sunrise."<br />"Who is this?"<br />"This is [name of guy I didn't know]. I'm the Best Boy for [Gaffer I didn't know]. I got your number from [someone I met on another job]."</p><p>I sat there, looking at the screen with a groan, deciding what to do. </p><p>Did I need the work? Hell no. I was in the middle of a really good run and I could really use the day off. I was totally looking forward to having a night of Netflixing and chilling, and the last thing I wanted to do was put on work clothes and be all the way across town in an hour. Plus, factor in that it's a night shoot, a one day call at that, and anyone in their right mind would have said, "Thanks, but no thanks."</p><p>But this was with people I didn't know, and in the freelance world, that meant this could be a potential new contact for future jobs.</p><p>Still, I was on the verge of being overworked and had started my day early enough that I knew I'd be up for almost 24 hours by the time wrap would be called on this new gig. Plus, I never heard of these guys before and I only vaguely remembered the guy who passed him my number. Given that cold-calling acquaintances of friends is usually the last resorts of last resorts, the chances of me getting called back once their hiring pool wasn't dry anymore was pretty slim.</p><p>I looked at my phone and sighed. Random night shoots with strangers when I'm already tired is not my idea of a good time. Then I typed in the words, "Yes, I'm available," and hit send. </p><p>Was it a stupid choice? Probably. Would most people have turned it down? Yup. Was I thoroughly exhausted and too messed up afterwards for me to have a decent weekend? Absolutely. </p><p>But was that job with the same Gaffer that not only managed to find work in the middle of a global shutdown but also brought me along for the ride?</p><p>Also yes. </p><p>So I guess the question now is: Is it fair to say that I'm lucky? To equate my employment to just a game of chance? Or did I get here because I saw and opportunity took it, even if it was the hard road?</p><p>"You're lucky."<br />"You're lucky."<br />"You're lucky."<br />"I'm glad all your hard work over the years is paying off right now," said no one, to me.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><i><a href="http://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2011/05/youre-lucky-youre-working.html">Previously.</a></i></p><p><br /></p>A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-82313732961284953362020-07-17T22:07:00.000-07:002020-07-17T22:07:05.348-07:00I'm Not Here.<br />
It's been a little over four months now since The Big Industry Shutdown™ caused by the pandemic.<br />
<br />
It's also been a little over four months since anyone in this industry has seen me, in video, photos or otherwise, which is kind of an amusing thought. I'm not a big social media user and though I've attended the occasional Zoom gathering, my camera is generally off to help with the shitty bandwith situation in my apartment. They know I'm around. They know I exist. I stay in touch with everyone via texts and emails and what have you. I've spoken to them on the phone or during the aforementioned Zoom calls. We all check in with each other regularly, making sure we're all okay, checking if anyone needs anything. But no one from work has actually seen me. I'm like a ghost. They know I'm around, but my actual presence is something intangible.<br />
<br />
The last time any of my colleagues saw my actual, physical being was the day before everything went down. I had the rare (ha!) day off in the middle of the week and woke up to a text from a crew I day played with. They were loading out their show at one of the rental houses not too far from me and invited me to have lunch with them. I met up with them that afternoon and we enjoyed a nice "end of the season" meal together. Little did we know, it would be the last meal we shared in more ways than one. The news was playing in the background, a continuous loop of the NHL cancelling their season and the Governor banning gatherings, but other than a brief acknowledgment, the announcements became little more than background noise. Instead, we reminisced over the highlights of the last few months on the show, talked about what jobs we had coming up, and then gave each other a round of hugs in the parking lot before we all parted ways.<br />
<br />
That was the last time I touched anyone I loved.<br />
<br />
After that, I went down to another show to pick up a check the Best Boy had for me. The stage was pretty much empty when I got there, the company having moved to wherever else they were supposed to be that day. So I sat there with the Best Boy for a few minutes, shooting the shit. We talked about how crazy things got yesterday, how news of one thing after another kinda hit all within the same span of time (Tom Hanks! NBA! Borders shut down!). But how naive we must have been, neither of us even thinking about how we could be effected by it, let alone so suddenly. There wasn't even a whisper of a rumor or anything circling around his show about it. He even laid out which days he could use me for next week and I told him I was available and to book me.<br />
<br />
As I was about to walk through the cracked open elephant door on my way out of the stage, I heard my name being called out. I turned around and smiled. It was my favorite Craft Service guy on this job. Always down for a good chat, he loves nothing in this life more than his wife, his kids, and a good cup of espresso.<br />
<br />
"Where are you going?" he asked. "You can't be done today already!"<br />
<br />
I laughed. "I'm not really here today. But I'll see you next week though."<br />
<br />
"Okay. I'll see you then. Can you believe all this craziness that's happening right now?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, it's crazy for sure." And I'm not sure why, but I added, "Hey, be careful out there, okay? Take care of yourself. Be safe."<br />
<br />
He nodded. "I will. You too, my friend."<br />
<br />
And with that, we both turned and went our separate ways. Him into the dark stage. Me, into the daylight.<br />
<br />
The next day, all the shows shut down, suddenly and swiftly.<br />
<br />
And just like that, he became a ghost. Vanished, just like I have.<br />
<br />
<br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-5575940403105185532020-06-09T20:01:00.000-07:002020-06-09T20:01:00.281-07:00Changes Are Coming.<br />
I've mentioned in my <a href="https://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2020/05/isolation.html">previous post</a> that I'm doing just fine and dandy during this whole "no-work-stuck-at-home" quarantine thing. I don't miss the crack-of-dawn early call times, the end-of-a-fourteen-hour-day location wraps, the sitting in traffic, the perpetual state of exhaustion. I don't miss the judgey assholes who I have to keep proving myself to. And I sure as hell don't miss shit, mold, dust and rat infested locations that for some reason the location department thinks is are great places to shoot.<br />
<br />
And while I'm still enjoying what I suppose was a much needed break from the grind, there are a few things that I <i>do</i> miss.<br />
<br />
I miss working with a great crew.<br />
<br />
I miss the all encompassing hugs from colleagues I haven't seen in a while.<br />
<br />
I miss seeing the resident cranky guy crack a smile when I happen to say something witty or funny.<br />
<br />
I miss the creative 2nd meals crafty sometimes comes up with.<br />
<br />
I miss whispered gossip with the hair and make-up team about the latest drama in their trailer.<br />
<br />
I miss being introduced to new locations and places in this town that I haven't been to or seen before (Shit Alley excluded).<br />
<br />
I miss digging through a cooler full of ice, looking for the <i>one</i> can of the <i>one</i> flavor of La Croix that I like. Having to work for it made it taste better somehow.<br />
<br />
I miss checking off the scenes we've done on the callsheet, like a scoreboard that tells us how many more innings we have left in our day. It was always so satisfying to physically cross something off.<br />
<br />
I miss fiddling with the knick-kacks on set (sorry, set decorators! But rest assured, I <i>always</i> put things back where I found them).<br />
<br />
I even miss riding around in pass vans with my <a href="https://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2019/01/confessional.html">favorite driver</a>.<br />
<br />
And while it may still be a little while before we get the all clear to return to work* I'm getting glimpses of what life would be like <a href="https://deadline.com/2020/06/hollywood-reopening-white-paper-unions-studios-producers-read-it-here-1202948491/">while working during a pandemic</a>.<br />
<br />
No more hugs from old friends that make me feel loved. No more just hanging out with your fellow crew members at staging between set ups. No more huddling around phones or tablets or anything else with a screen and an Internet connection whenever a game is on. No more self-serve meals.** No more whispering of secrets in my ear about the latest work-place scandal. No more cool locations to explore (even possibly no locations at all). No more callsheets to check the day off on. No more driving around, crammed into a van like a <a href="https://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2009/12/family.html">family</a> on a road trip during Summer vacation. No more sneaking away from set to do a coffee (and the occasional milkshake) run. And worse of all, the discussions about possibly having a "studio system" of sorts for day players mean I may no longer get to choose who I will (awesome, milkshake loving people) and will not (assholes) work for.<br />
<br />
Basically, almost everything I love about my job will either be gone or altered in some way.<br />
<br />
But at least on the flip side, gone too are the unsanitary locations, the ridiculously long days,*** and until the unemployment rate goes down, traffic will be lighter.<br />
<br />
Ungodly call times and assholes aren't banned though, so at least some parts of this business will still be recognizable.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*<span style="font-size: x-small;">Yes, I'm aware of <a href="https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/california-gov-gavin-newsom-reveals-tv-film-production-can-restart-june-12-1295861">this article</a>, but as of the time of this writing, LA County hasn't give the okay yet, not to mention pre-production would have to start first, making shooting at its earliest, still at least a few weeks away.</span><br />
<br />
**<span style="font-size: x-small;">I know this one sounds trivial in the grand scheme of things, but you're talking to a gal who generally likes to try a little bit of everything, but can also be kinda picky or have to limit my consumption of certain types of food for health reasons. Self service meals mean I can scoop whatever I want and it'll all get eaten. Pre-packaged or caterer-served, and you're looking at a LOT of uneaten food on my plate (and I hate food waste, as should you), and I'm gonna be cranky and hungry again in a little bit. Also, "bring your own lunch" isn't really an option unless a microwave and fridge are provided (per labor law. Plus, who wants to lug around a full tool bag AND a cooler to work every day, or eat a cold lunch all the time), in which case, that's another potentially contaminated/unsanitized shared space, not to mention, unless we're only working 8 hour days, Mama doesn't have time to work a full day AND make two nutritious meals that can be easily packed and may or may not need refrigeration every night. I don't care if you think I'm spoiled. Production is supposed to provide meals and I'm on the side of making them pay for as many things as possible since they're so reluctant to spend money of things like manpower, equipment, and various safety issues. And this ends my food rant for the day. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
***<span style="font-size: x-small;">While the white paper does call for shorter work days, it declines to give an actual number for recommended hours worked. I've heard various guesstimations of what those days may look like, and while they do sound shorter than what we're used to, they're still longer than the 8 hour days our non-industry friends enjoy.</span><br />
<br />
<br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-26726245310301219522020-05-11T14:58:00.000-07:002020-05-11T14:58:00.900-07:00Isolation.<br />
The world is in such a weird and unstable place right now, but I'm happy* to report that I'm doing pretty well, all things considered.<br />
<br />
I don't have annoying roommates, my unemployment claim went through and even though I have an emergency fund, the additional payment from the CARES Act each week is enough for me to pay my bills for the time being, and I don't have kids to try to teach at home. I have enough crafts, classes I want to take online, and home projects to keep me entertained forever, not including the amount of stuff on the Internet and Netflix to help keep me occupied. I honestly haven't been bored once since this whole thing started.<br />
<br />
The supermarkets may still be out of some of my usual staples, and I may have to get a little creative with some of my meals, but I'm still pretty well fed even without crafty and catering to supplement my diet. (Maybe even a little too well fed if the waistband of my yoga pants has any say about it.)<br />
<br />
My closest friends don't live within a hundred miles of me, and my family even further than that, so my relationships with them haven't even changed much. If anything, we may even check in with each other more than we used to. And honestly, I'm pretty introverted anyway, so I don't even miss the crowded bars, clubs and parties where I have to make awkward small talk and think of an excuse to go home early (or better yet, not go in the first place). Everyone I love and care about are, to my knowledge, safe and okay.<br />
<br />
All in all, despite me being situated in an area with more restrictions than most places, I'm doing okie dokie. Honestly, I had a hard time saying "no" to work for the last decade and as a result, I didn't take as many vacations as I should have. Plus, I looooved it when I had the rare weekend off with no plans and I got to stay in my apartment wearing sweats and doing nothing. So this has essentially been a long staycation for me.<br />
<br />
And like all vacations, the thought of going back to work kinda makes me go "ugh." If work started back up again tomorrow and all the safety issues were magically resolved, I don't know if I'd be ready to go back. I'm enjoying my laid-back-at-home-lifestyle a little too much still.<br />
<br />
My friend, however, does not share my same view. He, like many others I've talked to, can't wait to get back to work. "It's in our blood," he said to me the other day when we checked up on each other. "This industry. This business. It's what we <i>do</i>."<br />
<br />
This echoes what I've been saying about us weird, movie-making folk from the beginning. A part of us has to at least enjoy some aspect of our jobs because we wouldn't be able to survive them if we didn't. It's not like regular jobs where you can hate what you do for eight hours and then go home to what you love. With us, you're at work more than you're at home, so you have to at least love part of what you do. And I loved loved <i>loved</i> my job. That's part of the reason why I have trouble saying "no" and taking a vacation. Who needs time off if you're happy with what you do for a living?<br />
<br />
Not only that, but I owe a good chunk of my career to a Gaffer who essentially used the same words to describe me. "You have to hire her," he once told another Gaffer, "She's made for this business. <i>This is what she does</i>."<br />
<br />
So what does it mean if the thought of going back to work right now doesn't appeal to me? Who am I if I don't really miss working? <b><i>How is it that I'm okay without the lifestyle that I know?</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
Maybe this is me catching up on all the vacation time I didn't think I needed. Maybe I'm not coping with this social distanced quarantine period as well as I thought I am and I'm actually broken somewhere. Or maybe I'm not as in love with my role in this business as I believe I am. Maybe it's all of the above. Who knows.<br />
<br />
But what I do know is that if/when I got back to work, it'll be for this industry. There's no doubt in my mind that this is the path for me. This isn't a career choice crisis that we're looking at here. But what kind of bothers me is how none of all this really bothers me.<br />
<br />
If this business is what I do, if it's who I am, if it's in my blood, why am I not itching to go back to work as soon as possible?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Okay, let me stop you right there. I know a lot of people are </i>unhappy<i> at the moment for various reasons. Believe me when I say that I am very aware of those people, and I'm also aware of the privileges I have. But this post isn't about that. You are welcome to read something else if you have an issue with it.</i></span><br />
<br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-33624872650741741192020-04-22T16:17:00.000-07:002020-04-22T16:17:04.520-07:00Clipboard.<br />
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<br />
<br />
I had been in this business for a little while, mostly day playing, when I landed on this new show with new-to-me people. It's the first day for everyone, so shortly after call, everyone's huddled around the back of the truck as the Gaffer starts handing out start paperwork. After a few of us scrounge around for a pen, we kinda disperse with everyone looking for a flat surface to write on.<br />
<br />
"Here," the Gaffer offers me a quarter apple. "You can use this if you want."<br />
<br />
"No thanks," I reply. "I got something I can use." I open up my backpack and pull out a clip board.<br />
<br />
The Gaffer just stares at me in shock.<br />
<br />
"What?" I ask.<br />
<br />
He says nothing for a second, then, he starts to smile. "Wow. That's some best boy shit right there," he finally says. Then walks away.<br />
<br />
I complete my paperwork, start the day, and finish the job. Years later though, this short interaction still leaves me a little puzzled.<br />
<br />
Before I landed on that gig, I've done several dozen different start packets and almost all of them were done by filling it out on the shelf of a cart, the floor of the truck, the rough diamond plating on the lift gate, a random set piece, or, of course, on a <a href="https://oceanstudio.com/sites/default/files/film-term-images/Apple_Box_Comp.jpg">pancake, quarter, or half</a> apple perched on my lap. And don't even get me started on all the times everyone in my department had to take turns because only one of those options were available.<br />
<br />
So it only made logical sense to me to throw a clipboard in my backpack. I had a couple of them left over from my college days, so it's not like I specifically bought one just to do start work on, not that they're terribly expensive or hard to find to begin with. Plus, it wasn't heavy, nor did it take up a lot of room in my bag. It actually helped give it some structure and kept my tools from poking me in the back.<br />
<br />
So why was it so odd that I carried around a clipboard to do paperwork on? I was a day player, who, like many of my other colleagues, started a new job every few days so I did new start work several times a month. If I had learned to bring my own pen instead of asking to borrow one, why was it so odd I did the same with a common writing surface?<br />
<br />
Every now and then, this little memory will pop into my head. Honestly, I guess I could see where he was coming from since I don't think I've seen anyone else carry around a clip board, Best Boys excluded, but I've always wondered, why not? Why do my colleagues keep insisting on scrambling to find a semi-suitable writing surface that, more often than not, renders part of their start work illegible instead of investing in a $2, low profile, light weight solution?<br />
<br />
While I don't lose any sleep over it, this is one of the questions in life that continues to baffle me.<br />
<br />
<br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-16030506711701140722020-03-23T16:10:00.000-07:002020-03-23T16:10:31.543-07:00COVID-19.<br />
So... I'm guessing I don't need to update anyone with what's going on in the world right now. Our industry essentially shut down across the country a little over a week ago, and shortly after that, the state of California closed down all non-essential businesses and ordered everyone to stay home.<br />
<br />
No one's happy, some people are freaked out, and there was a line running down the entire length of Target the other day, just minutes after they opened, of people trying to get a pack of toilet paper. It's madness out there.<br />
<br />
There's also a lot of people who aren't taking this seriously. I'm one of those people who believe there's no reason to panic, but it's also not the time to behave as if things are normal.<br />
THINGS ARE NOT NORMAL RIGHT NOW.<br />
<br />
I could go into a rant about how self absorbed or selfish you are if you decide the rules of social distancing don't apply to you. Or about how this isn't about the government trying to "take away your freedom," but about the health and safety of your country, community, friends and neighbors.<br />
<br />
But instead, I'm going to leave you with a couple videos. I've seen a lot of news reports, articles and explanations about the spread of this stupid virus over the last several days because I'm unemployed forever, stuck inside, and bored. These are the ones that I found the most calm, yet informative and explain things in ways that anyone can understand. Take a few minutes (and I know you have the time to spare) if you haven't watched them already, and pass them on to those in your life who just don't get it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/I5-dI74zxPg" width="560"></iframe>
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
<div dir="ltr" lang="en">
“If you are irresponsible enough to think that you don’t mind if you get the flu, remember it’s not about you - it’s about everybody else.”<br /><br />Intensive care specialist Professor Hugh Montgomery explains why this coronavirus is different from the ordinary flu. <a href="https://t.co/h9sQorHQUv">pic.twitter.com/h9sQorHQUv</a></div>
— Channel 4 Dispatches (@C4Dispatches) <a href="https://twitter.com/C4Dispatches/status/1241803403619172359?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">March 22, 2020</a></blockquote>
<script async="" charset="utf-8" src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>
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<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
<div dir="ltr" lang="en">
Look what we can do. You and me. <a href="https://t.co/p6VZVhK5SY">pic.twitter.com/p6VZVhK5SY</a></div>
— Matt Dearringer (@dearringer) <a href="https://twitter.com/dearringer/status/1241624901041229824?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">March 22, 2020</a></blockquote>
<script async="" charset="utf-8" src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large; font-style: italic;">Stay healthy. Stay safe. And for the love of everyone, stay home. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #3c4043; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">❤</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-15335347036259220422020-03-15T20:10:00.000-07:002020-03-15T20:10:03.351-07:00Loyalty.<br />
<i>Dear Gaffer,</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>We've known each other for a while now. In fact, you're one of the first people I met when I started in this business. I think we work together fairly well and understand each others working styles. I'm not sure if you've realized it or not, but are you aware that I've been on every show you've gaffed for almost a decade?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>In the beginning, I was just a day player to you. Which was fine. I was just getting my feet wet. I was paying my dues.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Then you started "cleaning house". Every show you did brought in a new assortment of regulars. It seemed like I was the only constant throughout all the changeovers. Yet I was always a bridesmaid, but never the bride. You never felt like I was "regular" crew material and I was always overlooked whenever you were putting together the core crew for your next job.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>As frustrating as it was, I didn't quit you. I enjoyed the projects we did, albeit from a day player standpoint, and I liked your work. You put me on the sidelines, but I was just happy to still be on the team. I waited patiently for my moment. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Finally, that moment came and you asked me to be a full time crew member on your next show. I said sure, and honestly, I probably did a happy dance after getting off the phone with you. After years of waiting for a spot on the crew, I finally had it!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>And I think we can both agree that it was great. I rocked your sets. I had studied you for long enough to know what you were going for with each light you called. I was attentive on set and anticipated your needs. We even had various talks where you mentioned what you were looking for in a lighting technician and I made sure to hit all those marks. We got along so well that we even developed a non-verbal way of communicating. I could tell by the way you were looking at something whether you liked it or not and why. I would often bring you what you wanted before you even called for it. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Eventually, I went from being your last call to your first call whenever you had a job coming up. Soon, it was just understood by everyone on our team that I'd be with you on every job. It was non-negotiable. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I was loyal to you. I turned down job offers that would've placed me higher up on the food chain to stay on your shows. In anticipation of your next jobs, I turned down offers for full time spots with other Gaffers who saw my worth in far less time than you did. I irrevocably burned a couple of bridges with other Gaffers just to stay in your pocket because we had an agreement that was both implied and explicit that assured my future in this business with you. I have no regrets in the decisions I made because I felt good about our working relationship and where it was taking me.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Your jobs, though good when you had them, were often intermittent like much of this industry. And after a while, you hit a dry spell. That's nothing new. It happens to everyone.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>What I didn't expect though was when you eventually did get on a show again, that I wouldn't hear the news from you. Instead, I heard it from everyone else.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Because you, dear Gaffer, had called everyone but me to find a crew. Because you not only didn't call me, but you called <span style="font-weight: bold;">every one</span> of the guys I introduced you to over the years. You called everyone that I had ever recommended to you, and then some, but not once did you call me.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>And I have no idea why.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>But here's what I do know. I know who you're working with and none of them would've vetoed me out. I know the job you're on and that it's a good one, so you're not sparing me from a shit job or rate. I know that, based on you trying to hire all my friends, you could've brought on whoever you wanted. So I know that the choice to not hire me was entirely yours.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I know we ended our last job on a high note. I know it wasn't too long before that where we actually sat down and discussed giving me the opportunity for me to play a more active role in your future projects, and that meeting had ended on a positive note. I know your dry spell meant that we haven't spoken regularly for a while, but I know we were on civil enough terms to at least reach out to each other during the holidays not too long ago.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I know I have spent the last several years of my career being nothing but loyal to you. But I guess that doesn't mean much these days.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I also know that despite part of me wishing I knew why I'm suddenly getting the cold shoulder, I harbor no ill will towards you. I really do hope that you get more good jobs in the future and that you do find that one show or DP that you can sail into retirement with. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I enjoyed our time working together. I would be lying if I said otherwise. I learned a lot from you. I had a lot of fun. I got a lot of much needed paychecks.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>But I guess it's time to move on. In a way, it's somewhat freeing to no longer be bound by our former working arrangement. I can take the jobs that I want without the stipulation that you come first. It's a great feeling, to know that the only one I have to be loyal to now is myself. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>To sum it up, thanks for the memories, boss.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I'll see ya around.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Sincerely,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>-A.J.</i></div>
<i><br /></i><i><br /></i>
A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-2594329320989438082020-02-26T22:38:00.000-08:002020-02-26T22:38:00.446-08:00Stupid Shit.<br />
When I was first starting out, I thought banded cable was called "bandit." I think I called it that for about a year before I finally saw it written down on an equipment order.<br />
<br />
I used to think <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=stake+bed+truck&oq=stake+bed+truck&aqs=chrome..69i57.4377j0j1&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8">stake beds</a> were called "snake beds" and I couldn't figure out why. I mean, wouldn't the snakes just slither out of the sides and escape?<br />
<br />
I was ready to take that to the grave when I worked with a friend of mine on a music video. That's when he learned that it was called a stake bed and not a <i>steak </i>bed. He thought that was the kind of trucks they used to take cattle to the slaughter house, hence the name "steak."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-34385579089022997032020-02-11T08:59:00.000-08:002020-02-11T08:59:00.227-08:00This Would Be Funnier If It Wasn't So True...<br />
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<br />
The sad thing is, I'm not 100% sure it's a joke.A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-12464752315037875542020-01-08T14:40:00.000-08:002020-01-08T14:40:12.684-08:00Decade.<br />
A cool trick I've learned is if you're pressed for time you can do all your Christmas shopping at Costco. There is literally something for everyone. Tools and other household items for Dad, a new jacket and sweater for Mom, various speakers, head phones and other small electronics for various siblings, games and DVDs for friends, and a whole rack of gift cards for whoever that hard to shop for person in your life is, with enough samples in every aisle to keep you fueled as you steer your ridiculously over sized cart through the ridiculous sea of people.<br />
<br />
Part two of the trick is to go on a random weekday and you just might make it out of there with all your goods (plus a hot dog and soda for $1.50) with your sanity intact. God help anyone who tries to navigate the store on a weekend.<br />
<br />
Which is how I found myself there one Wednesday afternoon, pleased with myself for beating the system with one stop shopping at warehouse prices, when the cashier started to make small talk with me.<br />
<br />
"So, what kind of work do you do that lets you shop at Costco in the middle of a weekday afternoon?"<br />
"Oh, I kind of jump around to different TV and movie sets so my schedule can kinda be sporadic. I just thought I'd take advantage of the day off today and knock out some shopping at Costco."<br />
"You work in TV and movies? What do you do?"<br />
"Lighting."<br />
"Lamp operator?"<br />
"Yeah..." I look at him impressed he knew the term. "How did you know?"<br />
"I used to be in the business."<br />
"Used to be?"<br />
"Yeah. I couldn't find enough work so I had to get a 'real' job and ended up here," he gestured to the warehouse. "Who do you usually work for?"<br />
<br />
We traded Gaffer and show names as he continued to ring up my purchases, and then we wished each other a happy holiday and I was on my way to the parking lot.<br />
<br />
Out interaction stuck with me for a little while and I couldn't stop thinking about it. He used to do the same job I did and had to leave because he wasn't finding enough work to make a living. Then I thought about the neighbors down the street from my parents' house. Their kid was also "living the dream" in LA but had to leave the business and move back in with his parents after being laid off from one show too many.<br />
<br />
Then I thought about a conversation I had with my CPA. He was commenting the last time he did my taxes about how he wishes his daughter, who is also in the entertainment lighting business, was doing as financially well as I am. After a few years of struggling, he's not sure how much longer she'd be able to last on her own.<br />
<br />
Then I thought about all the people I met when I started my career journey in Los Angeles and how many of them just kinda... disappeared. The guy who first taught me how to run cable had to go back to England shortly after we met because he had more contacts and offers for work there than he did here. His best boy ended up disappearing as well. The girl I used to compete with for jobs rode off to Arizona at some point on her motorcycle. There was another girl and we'd help each other find work, but she eventually left to fly drones. Another guy I used to work with left to become an insurance salesman so he could pay the bills and support his family. Another one became a massage therapist. And another a fireman. Another works for a dispensary. One even moved to another state to become a card dealer at an Indian casino. "I'm tired of barely making enough to survive," he told me before he left. And countless others just vanished to who knows where.<br />
<br />
And those who managed to stay in this business aren't always thriving. One Gaffer I used to work for is still taking jobs that barely pay minimum wage, which was the same rate he was taking when I met him over a decade ago.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, I've been working pretty steadily for the past ten years. I'd been lying if I said I didn't have a roller coaster of rates, but for the most part, they have been pretty decent. I've also managed to land a few Best Boy gigs and even a Gaffing job or two. I'm constantly finding work that challenges me, and despite sometimes barely making it through by the skin of my teeth, I always make it through nonetheless.<br />
<br />
I made some pretty solid contacts over the years and learned enough niche things to branch out to different specialties that would see me through the slow times. I even managed to have enough money saved that if I were to be hit with a dry spell, it'd still be a while before I have to move back in with my parents.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't exactly say I've been <a href="http://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2011/05/youre-lucky-youre-working.html">lucky</a> this past decade, but I will say it's been good to me. I may not have a clear goal or game plan for the next ten years, but I'm excited to see what it has in store for me.<br />
<br />
Because if it's anything like the last ten years, I'm not only going to survive, but I'm going to thrive.<br />
<br />
<br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-9471839897838645802019-11-28T04:00:00.000-08:002019-11-28T04:00:04.047-08:00HAPPY THANKSGIVING!<br />
Not sure why, but this kinda hit home for me...<br />
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-lang="en">
<div dir="ltr" lang="en">
Flight attendant: Is there a doctor on this flight?<br /><br />Dad: *nudging me* that should've been you<br /><br />Me: Not now Dad<br /><br />Dad: Not asking for a cinematographer to help, are they?<br /><br />Me: Dad, there's a medical emergency happening right now<br /><br />Dad: Go and see if “moody lighting" helps</div>
— Jackson Hayes (@jacksonhvisuals) <a href="https://twitter.com/jacksonhvisuals/status/1199401828456157184?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">November 26, 2019</a></blockquote>
<script async="" charset="utf-8" src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>
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<b>HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE!</b><br />
I hope you survive the holidays with your family. ;-)<br />
<br />
<br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578728360904637566.post-81156687035258074842019-11-21T18:43:00.000-08:002019-11-21T18:43:02.949-08:00My Severance Pay Is In The Form Of A T-Shirt.<br />
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<br />
I'm the only one in my TV and movie obsessed family that works in this silly business, so last year when I made the trek home for Thanksgiving, I schlepped up a bag of swag I've accumulated from the past couple years of work. In it were a few mugs, t-shirts that don't really fit, and various miscellaneous show items that I didn't want to keep for myself and no longer wanted taking space in my apartment. I brought the bag to dinner and let my cousins have at it. The t-shirts went quick, but the most popular items in the bag were a couple of jackets and hoodies.<br />
<br />
Later on at dinner, a couple of my relatives were talking about what a cool job I have, namely because of all the <a href="https://thehillsareburning.blogspot.com/2013/05/nothing-is-free.html">"free"</a> stuff I got.<br />
<br />
"I wish my job gave us shirts and jackets," a couple of them lamented. "We never get anything."<br />
<br />
I thought about that for a sec. Yeah, I guess it is pretty cool that we usually get gifts from the shows we work on! But then, I remembered <i>why </i>we typically get presents.<br />
<br />
"Actually, most of that stuff were wrap gifts, which happens at the end of a job," I explained. "So whenever we get something, it's kind of like them saying, 'Thanks for doing a great job! Now you're unemployed.'"<br />
<br />
Everyone then proceeded to look at their newly procured goods, realizing that each one symbolized a time I was essentially fired. All my cousins of working age have a steady 9-5 job with benefits and paid vacation time and have been at their perspective jobs for years now. Suddenly, my job perk didn't seem like such a perk anymore.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, okay," one of my cousins said, "That does kinda suck."<br />
<br />
I suddenly realized that all my hard work over the years essentially amounted to a bag of ill-fitting tees. Though if I ever was given a shirt that says "I worked on [insert show name] and all I got was this lousy t-shirt", that one, I would happily keep.<br />
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<br />A.J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06280771470428710391noreply@blogger.com2