12.31.2008

Why can't I wrap my head around church and religion and faith, but hymns and spirituals and gospel sung in just the right way stir my soul and fill my heart?  

I can't stop listening to the first 6 tracks on Welcome Wagon's debut album!

New Cancer's Eve

Today, my aunt, who I'm especially close to, was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor in her pancreas.  

In working on all the hospital documentaries that I've worked on over the last four years, I've been around a number of sick and cancer laden people.  With what goes into telling their stories, the countless hours spent with them, we get to know these people very well.  It's natural to feel empathy for them and their families.

I'm asking myself now, was it really empathy I was feeling?  When it's happening to your own family it feels different.  This is someone who through the years has eaten what I've eaten, breathed the air I've breathed, who's blood isn't much different than my own.  

It's different when it hits close to home. 
  

12.30.2008

Croquet (The Game of Kings)


Random King Family Fact:

We play croquet every Christmas (and every other family get together).

12.18.2008

Drinks, Coats and Keys (One Night in Chicago)

My friend, JT, looking dapper in his winter hat and coat, appears a bit drunk in this photo. He's actually not drunk at this point, but it's a sign of things to come on this night out in Chicago.

After dinning at an Argentine steak house, myself, JT and his wife, our friend Todd and his fiance, spent the rest of the night at Todd's neighborhood watering hole shooting Jameson chased by PBRs. There were a number of unappetizing Red Bull drinks that lead to some of us dancing wildly in our bar stools and left all of us with a hefty hangover.

In Chicago, like New York and London, it seems that everyone, men and women, wears the same knee-length black winter coats. And they all end up in a fluffy black cluster on the bar or restaurant's coat rack. As you can imagine, it's quite a chore to locate your jacket at night's end, when you're in a druken state. And JT's druken state is more severe than most people's. We jokingly refer to it as "Weekend at Bernie's." Basically his body goes limp and all verbal function ceases. He nothing more than a tree trunk in the middle of bar room with drunks swirling all around him.  

Fast forward to the morning after and JT and I passed out at Todd's friend's apartment. I awake to the daunting task of finding our way back to Todd in a snowy, cold and unfamiliar city. Despite a bright, shinning beam of light that's resting comfortably on his face, JT is not waking up. Only repeated shaking manages to wake him.

His Jameson, Red Bull, PBR haze is worse than mine, so I help him put on his coat as a cab waits outside for us. Once the coat is on him, in a gravely voice, he says, "Where's my coat?" I say, "This isn't your coat?" Maybe I'm in as much of a haze as JT.  "Nope." In fact, it's nothing like JT's coat. It's gray, not black. It has a zipper, not buttons. And, it's an XXXL, or four sizes too big for JT! Todd's friend Shelly alertly checks the pockets for any of JT's possessions. Pulling something from the jacket, Shelly asks, "Are these your keys?" "I don't have any keys," responds JT. Digging deeper into the pockets, Shelly pulls out a second set of keys, followed by a third, fourth, and fifth set! JT, Shelly and I all look at one another and immediately realize that JT accidentally grabbed the designated driver's jacket. "Whoa," says Shelly! "I got all my stuff," remarks JT insensitively.

Shelly agrees to return the jacket to the bar it was taken from, but that does little to fix the miserable night that at least six people endured. During the cab ride back to Todd's, JT and I dream up scenarios people furiously yelling at their DD and angry drunks locked out of their homes on a bitter Chicago night.       

Over the next 48-hours we would recount this story a dozen times, each time to Todd's delight. It's an utterly perfect drunk story we all agree.  

Just hours before leaving Chicago we get word that Shelly has JT's jacket. We trek into the belly of downtown Chicago to retrieve it... In a moment of perfect irony, the jacket that's supposed to be JT's jacket is not, and now someone else is pissed off.  JT ultimately leaves Chicago with a number of enemies and a new Brooks Brother's coat that fits him perfectly.

     

11.12.2008

Music Video

Here's the idea (I haven't chosen a song yet, but I kind of hear something hopeful sounding from The Smashing Pumpkins ):

TWO YOUNG TEENAGERS, presumably in love with each other, wait at the counter of their local Dollar Store while the CLERK fills a grocery bag with the balloons they've just purchased.  They dash out of the store, balloons in tow, before the clerk can even give them their change (which he pockets in excitement).

The young teens have now separated.  Mouth pried open, the girl has her teeth worked on by an OBESE DENTIST.  One of the pink elastics from her braces snaps and peppers the fat dentisti's cheek.  The girl tries to laugh, but can't.

The boy is hanging around the loading docks in a highly industrial area.  He watches, "smoking" his candy cigarettes, while men load and unload boxes from large, white passenger vans. 

The girl spits blood into the dentist's sink as the dentist and his BUSTY ASSISTANT make their way out of the room.

More boxes are being unloaded.  Just as the final box is being carted away from one of the white passenger vans the boy pops his head out from the under carriage of the vehicle.  

Back at the dentist's office: The girl is rapidly unscrewing tubes connected to the helium tank, hoists the metal canister up on a high window ledge, pushes the window open with one hand, and drops the tank out the window into a bush below.  

The keys are in the ignition of one of the white vans as the boy climbs in the driver's side door.  His head barely eclipses the steering wheel as he backs the car out of the lot.  

The girl is sitting on a street corner in the middle of town, helium tank by her side.  The boy's white van abruptly swerves to the shoulder of the road, upsetting the traffic.  The girl and her helium tank spring into the van.  Horns honk, once again, as the white van begins to drive away.

Montage of the white van driving through this small, suburban town.  Music is screaming from the radio.  The girl steadily fills the hundreds of balloons with helium.  The van has left behind the town for the country.  They now whiz down tree-lined country roads, past farms and ponds.  The back of the van, once barren, slowly gets filled with the girl's balloons.  It's a rainbow of colors.  

The van chugs up a steep hill that overlooks much of the town.  By this time, the girl has filled nearly every square inch of the passenger van with balloons.  The boy's head is lost in the balloons as he continues his first attempt at driving.  As they summit the hill, the girl pushes her way through the balloons to the back doors of the van.  With one swift kick from the girl the back doors of the van explode open and the balloons stream out the doors into the sky.  

The couple laughs wildly as the master plan they've hatched comes to fruition before their wide eyes.  

The final shot of the video shows the van roaring down the other side of the hill with its tail of balloons.  The camera slowly pulls away from the van and up into the clear blue sky with all of the balloons as the song fades out. 

  

  

11.07.2008

Knee Deep


I wish I would have made this documentary.
It's a horribly sad story, but also really, really funny.

It airs on most PBS stations this weekend.

11.06.2008

Animal Whisperer

Check out this blog:

http://pictureyear.blogspot.com/2008/10/amelias-world.html

Binders, Dividers and Folders, oh my!

I had to go to Staples this morning to get numbered dividers and a transparent cover for a grant proposal.  Little did I know this would be such a difficult chore.  Staples literally has aisles upon aisles of different types of binders, dividers, cover sheets, folders, etc...  I was so lost that I must've looked like I was on the moon.  How can there be so many varieties on something so basic?  Chalk it up to corporate America to create a huge industry that is completely unnecessary.  

In the end, I settled on Staples "Report Covers (cubiertas de informe)" which features "100 sheet capacity, two fasteners and compressor strip, and customizable spine label."  And Staples "1-25 Legal Exhibit Dividers" which features "preprinted 1-25 tabs, unpunched to use with all binding systems."       

10.16.2008

Television (No More)

I got rid of my TV a couple days ago.  I've come to realize that I spend way too much time laying in bed following the election.  It's pretty pointless since I already know who I'm voting for.  That's all that really matters, right?  

I was nervous to ditch the TV, not because I like watching it, but because I have a difficult time falling asleep without the buzz and hum of the tube.  Now, instead of laying in bed listening to Anderson Cooper, I listen to the thoughts in my head.  I suppose my life is better for it and I'm not having any difficulty dozing off.

9.29.2008

Survivors by Errol Morris




The filmmaking of Errol Morris never fails to amaze me.  He's responsible for some of the great innovations within the documentary form. This particular film picks up what he started with his highly underrated First Person television series. Morris' interviews are unlike any other on-camera interview you've ever seen because his subjects literally looking down the barrel of the lens, not just at the camera.  Morris has designed a device called the "Interrotron" which is a camera with a teleprompter mounted in front of the lens. Superimposed on the teleprompter is Morris' image on, creating an situation where the subject is interviewed directly by not only Morris, but the lens of the camera as well. The eye contact that is achieved with the viewer is unparalled. 

The greatest strength of Morris' documentaries, though, is his command of words and language. More than any other filmmaker he is a master of weaving and juxtaposing words together. And, the way he uses people's facial expressions as punctuation and exclamation is nothing short of masterful.         

9.27.2008

My Life in Pictures (Pet Dynamics)


The house I live in has three pets: Stretch (hot dog), Scout (black lab), and Ralph (25lb cat). Scout and Ralph are brothers, so they get along ducky.  Stretch and Scout battle for attention and food scraps from the humans.  Stretch and Ralph don't get along at all. Thus, Ralph lives exclusively in my bedroom. It's uncanny, but whenever I leave my bedroom door open for even a second Stretch senses it and scares poor Ralph into retreating into the closet.  The most interesting part of it all is that Scout will turn on Ralph, if Stretch is after Ralph. It's almost as if Scout doesn't want Stretch to know that he's friends with a cat.  But, as soon as Stretch is out of the room Scout and Ralph will go back to inhabiting my bed together.  

There's also two animal intruders in the mix.  A stray, orange cat and an enormous, beige rat. The doors to the outside are almost always open, so occasionally the orange cat will mosey into the house only to be chased up a tree by Scout. There's been days where Scout will stand at the trunk of a tree for hours while the cat is helplessly trapped.  The orange cat has also managed to lure Ralph out of the house on two occasions.  The first time Ralph was standing locked outside the sliding glass door, bloodied and a cat claw lodged into his forehead.  The second time I came home to Ralph's collar in the front yard, a hole in my screen door, and drops of blood on my comforter.  I think it's safe to say that Ralph's a lover, not a fighter.     

Willard, the elusive, beige rat, is a whole other story (for another time)...

My Life in Pictures (The Boom Operator)

A quick lesson in film production. As my friends and I were watching an episode of Entourage last night they were laughing about all the obscure and humorous job titles on a television/film production. I.E. "Dolly Grip," "Gaffer," "Wrangler," "Best Boy," etc...  They laughed hardest about the "Boom Operator," but they laughed even harder when I told them that I've been a Boom Operator.  The Boom is the lightweight, carbon-fiber pole that shotgun (directional) microphones can be attached to.  The boom pole can extend out to 10-12 feet, so the operator won't be in the frame during wide shots.  The extent of the job is standing with the pole rested on the back of your neck and pointing the mic in the direction of the person who's speaking.  

This film particular film, "The Tailor," was an independent feature (period piece) shot entirely in the desert and Imperial Sand Dunes around the town of Glamis.  It's about two-hours east of San Diego along Highway 8.  Just about the only thing to do after work was hang out at the one and only desert bar for many miles.  It was called the Lizard Lounge and the clientele was stereotypical desert folks. One guy was a drug and alcohol counsellor in the San Diego County school system, ironically the Lizard Lounge was his solace.