Saturday, August 31, 2013

mai tai


i was at a crazy college party at a very posh resort. everyone was dressed to the nines and the alcohol was flowing. it was fun and everyone was laughing. a jagged piece of info made it's way through the crowd; obama was mixing and serving drinks at the mai tai bar. of course everyone wanted a drink mixed by obama and soon hundreds of people were crowded around him clambering for a presidential cocktail. someone grabbed my arm and said, 'obama needs help' and i found myself working and pouring beside him. he was smiling and sweet as he worked very hard to make good drinks and ask everyone's name as he passed it to them. i kept thinking about how difficult it was not to like him as he seemed so friendly and earnest. after a couple of hours there was a lull and the secret service was pinching off the line. obama turned his attention to me and thanked me for all my help. as he shook my hand i said, 'you seem so authentic, i don't understand how you could lie to so many people who believed in you.' i could see in his eyes that he was aware of his deception but was taken off guard by the question in this setting and began fumbling for words. michelle was dozens of meters away but saw the change in her husband's demeanor instantly and motioned for the secret service to take him away from me. within moments he was gone.

i remember thinking i was glad i didn't vote for him, but sad that there was just no one to believe in anymore.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

cuba


she was ancient and smoked a thick cigar. her skin was poreless and her wrinkles looked more 'shar pei' than 'old age'. i had a bag of foam blocks that i wanted covered with different fabric pieces so i could make a headboard. as we haggled over a price, she looked at me through her coke bottles glasses and i could tell she didn't think much of me or my project. she demanded money up front and i almost walked away- but everyone had said she was the best and i wanted my headboard perfect. against my better judgment, i handed over my materials and cash.

a week later i made my way to her booth in the mercado. when i stood before her, she refused to look at me. after several attempts to engage her, she finally leaned forward, waved her hands angrily to shoo me away and shouted in spanish, 'this is cuba, white lady, there is nothing you can do!'

i looked around at all the other vendors and a few fat policemen watching our exchange and sipping coke nearby and understood that she was absolutely right. after a long moment, i walked away and started making a mental list of where i had to go to replace my fabric.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

old man

his hair was sparse and silver, his face was lightly bronzed from his time in the garden. he was in his 90's but his skin and body looked like a man in his mid 40's. even when he walked he moved like an athlete and his resting posture was perfect. his mind was sharp, deep and entirely clear of any sorrows. he was a man at peace. years earlier he had lost his only son and soon after when the latina showed up on his doorstep about to give birth he never questioned her claim of the babies paternity- even though the child was born with deep chocolate brown skin. the old man took her in and the baby grew up in his house as his flesh and blood grandson, the actual genetics of the boy were incidental to the man. over time, he allowed two other women to take up residence in his large empty house. a well oiled rhythm ran through the days and started with shared morning coffee and breakfast. the house always smelled like warm, baked bread and hummed with community activity. all 5 always gathered for a pleasant and healthy dinner and shared the clean-up. all 5 retired to their rooms content and happy.

one day one of the women brought up the subject of the inevitability of the old mans death. she planted worry in the other two and suggested they secretly begin the legal process of taking ownership of the house to protect themselves. the other women agreed and plans were implemented. as the process advanced, motions were filed, papers were served and when the old man held them in his hands he felt such a sense of betrayal that he was filled with unfamiliar rage. as he learned more, it became apparent that his ability to stop the proceedings was nil because of their long-term residency and his advanced age.

the women fled the house (certain they would return as the new owners) as he began to destroy his belongings. the old man walked through the rooms of the once peaceful house and spilled a trail of fuel from an old red gas can. when he reached the front yard, he threw a lit match behind him. the old man did not blink or flinch when his house exploded behind him. the red-orange flames from the house turned him into a silhouette, but with every step he took, his rage dissipated.

the man was never seen again.


Sunday, August 18, 2013

sally kirkland


like a true pro, the baby was quietly waiting for the scene to end while sally kirkland was falling apart in the wings. she was not paying attention to her surroundings and was drenched in chattering insecurity. she kept asking me questions and diverted my focus. i touched her arm and tried to mouth 'in a minute' because we were rolling, but she was unable to calm herself down. jason angrily yelled 'CUT!' and i knew it was because jon had heard sally's furtive whispers on sound. i then became impatient and lost my compassion for her and said as coldly as i could manage, 'you are fine, you are set, when they need you they'll let you know' which i instantly regretted when i saw the tears shining in her eyes. i privately lectured my brain to stop letting the fussy little old lady get to me and gently led her to a chair. at that moment i heard, 'speed!' and realized that the sally chaos had taken me out of the loop and i rushed to set. jason caught my arm at the last second and said, 'they're pressuring the room for robert downy's levitation, if you open the door now he'll fall to the floor. i was relieved he'd caught me before i ruined the take. i watched the monitors as roberts body lifted perfectly from the floor. the room was bathed in blue/red light and there was an allegorical image of a birth canal in the background that for some reason was not awful at all. everyone started barking at sally because she would not be quiet and she was taking it hard. i went over to her chair and softly chatted with her. she told me she didn't really act anymore and had forgotten most of her set etiquette. we laughed and then she told me about her organic farm in nicaragua and how that is where she really belonged. i said, 'i understand' and she made me promise to come and see it.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

melanie griffith


melanie griffith asked me to come with her to an appointment because she needed support. when we arrived, i saw that we were at the office of her cosmetic surgeons. i said. 'i thought you promised antonio you wouldn't have any more procedures? 'don't tell antonio!' she begged. 'these are my friends, i'll have them do anything you want for free if you keep my secret! ' at 1st i thought it was just pure crazy, but then i realized that she was so far on the other side of a healthy body image that nothing i said would make a dent anyway- plus it was a tantalizing proposition since her surgeons were the swanky secret 'star' plastic surgeons and hey, when would i get an offer like that again? melanie was immediately ushered away and i sat down and started to flip through their 'look books'. hmmm, maybe i would like a tiny but off my nose and while they were at it, maybe they could use that new ultra frequency wand thing from france to make my neck all silky like naked lamb skin. within minutes i was speaking with 3 surgeons. 'which ever one of you is the least invasive with the most natural results is the person i'd like to talk to.' i said. they all looked at each other as though i had just ordered ketchup to pour over filet mignon. each one glanced at the door of the room that held melanie, then on cue began to give me a head spinning sales pitch about how they would make 'a new me'. 'i don't want a new me' i said. 'of course you do!' they all answered in unison. at that moment, my friend scott breezed through the door and slipped his arm into mine pulling me to my feet and led me out of the room. 'oh darling, you don't need any of this shit! let's go to the car!' when we got to my car, one of the office girls was shoving a vacuum wand into my tail pipe. 'what are you doing?!' i asked. 'i'm trying to get the muskrats out of your exhaust!' she answered as she jammed the wand further up my pipe. the sucking noise was so loud i had to yell, 'i don't have muskrats in my exhaust!' i insisted. 'yes,' she said, 'i know- but i did once, so i just like to always make sure other people don't!'. scott shooed her away and told me to lock my door when i slipped inside my car. i left melanie there and watched scott wave goodbye in my rear-view mirror.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

writing a novel


he was working on a rough draft of a script. there were hundreds of pages- none of it formatted. he guarded it against my eyes but i read, 'he laughed until his DNA understood'.

i knew then he had no idea that he was writing a novel.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

charlotte


charlotte had invited me over for lunch but had forgotten to tell me she was watching her nieces and nephews and their friends. they were all about waist high and running around the house screaming like banshees and knocking into things. she had set a beautiful table on the patio, but the children were using it as a fort and charlotte didn't know how to tell them to stop. there was a neil young album playing really loud and i assumed she was trying to drown out the screaming. i said, 'how do you get them to settle down?'. she just looked at me, poured herself a full glass of wine and said she had no idea.

i eagerly accepted when she offered to reschedule.

Monday, August 5, 2013

henry


we were in a desperate situation. the floods had come and wiped out everything including our home. all we could salvage was the jeep, the dogs and a few clothes. henry, our giant pit, had adopted an abandoned litter of puppies and we couldn't get him to leave them. up to that point we had been bottle feeding the pups but of course no longer had the means to do so. there was a breeder up the mountain who said she had a lactating bitch and she would keep henry and his pups until the pups were weaned and then we could come back for them all. it seemed like the perfect solution- until we had dropped them off and were driving away. 'what have we done?' we asked ourselves again and again, but it was too late to turn back because the road was almost disappearing behind us under mud and water as we crawled forward. i kept turning around to check on mabel and her worried expression was heartbreaking. she couldn't understand why we had left henry behind. a day and a night passed before we finally found high ground. we emptied the jeep, waited for the waters to recede and headed straight back to pick up henry and his pups (we had agreed we would just figure it all out). when we got to the breeder, she was surprised to see us and said she had no idea where henry and his pups were. i grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and slammed her against the wall. 'tell me where my fucking dog is or i swear to god i'll kill you'. she said she had given henry and his pups to a dog fighting operation and pointed into the woods. i threw her to the ground and followed the path.

by the time i found henry, he was unrecognizable. he was bone thin and covered in mud. he could barely stand and was chained to a post with a heavy logging chain. i found a tool to snap the links apart and scooped him up like a baby. several men came out and threatened me. i looked them dead in the eye and told them, 'this dog is mine'. i knew the pups had died. i cried silently and told henry how sorry i was for leaving him. he wagged weakly and gave me small, forgiving dog kisses. i got him back to the jeep and took him to our new home.

Sunday, August 4, 2013

green mansion


we were shooting at an old run down mansion not far from the center of the city. it was a big cast day and there were a million bg. no one would stay quiet or keep to their mark so i was growing bored and frustrated. the 1st kept screaming CUT!!! and then another pow wow would ensue behind the camera. i was feeling like the day would go on forever. every time i could, i wandered the grounds. the house was a tattered, chalky green 19th century clapboard that was falling apart. i thought about how everything that was old and funky looked fine on camera except people- who looked worse. i was drawn to one of the out buildings, a one story octagon with 5 sides screened. i stepped through the door and looked through the screens onto the yard. it was so peaceful. there was a door that led to a small bath and bedroom and i thought, 'i could live here'. i heard the 1st screaming for everyone to take their mark again, so i trudged back to my spot. courtney was sitting next to me and picked up right where she'd left off talking about her endlessly fucked up love life. i kept thinking about how much time i was wasting in chaos.

Friday, August 2, 2013

beyonce and jay z


beyonce and jay z were showing me their new house. the grounds were huge and it seemed more like the campus of a small university than a home for two people and a baby. diana ross and berry gordy had been invited as well but diana kept making snide, envious comments about beyonce's success and marriage then would look over at barry and give him the stank eye before she said things like, 'i guess i wasn't good enough to put a ring on it' and 'love child my ass, you just wanted my money'. barry was staying silent, but it was obvious these were words he'd heard many times before. beyonce kept whispering to jay z, 'she's my hero, why is she being mean to me?' it was amusing in a train wreck kind of way, but i wasn't in the mood for awkward social drama so while diana continued to morph into norma desmond, i decided to wander the grounds.

soon i came upon a building that looked like a small library. inside was a woman named jennifer sitting in a wheel chair who was intent upon telling me the story of her lost inheritance and how all of 'this' rightfully belonged to her. as she rambled on i kept thinking about how hominids were really just full of unnecessary unhappiness and i excused myself to go walk on the beach.