Anti-Pickpocket Maneuverability and Volunteer Beach Patrolling

You know that feeling the day after you go to an amusement park when you're lying in bed, and you still feel the momentum of the roller coaster as if you are falling down?  That's how I feel right now.  That is how much time I've spent riding the metro lately.

But it's not a "fun" falling feeling.  It doesn't make me want to throw my hands in the air and stick my tongue out at the camera.  It's the feeling like you're typing at your computer and 4 dwarves are holding up the legs of your chair and occasionally rocking it, making you feel like you are going to fall over.

Two days ago (Sunday) I visited the beach, in Spanish "the playa".  My original intention was to get up early Saturday and go, but that did not happen.  It was already late in the day and I figured it would be futile.  Sunday, I once again had a slow start, thinking that I had missed my chance.  Furthermore, the forecast said that rain was on the way.  But seeing as this was my last free day, I bit the bullet and said dammit, I'm going to the beach.


In order for me to get to my destination, Long Beach, I had to take the metro to Penn Station and buy a ticket for the Long Island Railroad.  I have since learned that just because something is called "Railroad" does not necessarily make it any more comfortable or any less pukey-smelling than the Subway.

Penn Station was not what I expected it to look like.  I expected it to look like Grand Central, except with Penn Station Sub locations.  I didn't find subs.  Instead, the tunnels from the metro stop at Penn Station sloped through the cavernous underground and slowly began to morph into something that looked like an airport.

where's the subs?

As often happens, when I was waiting for my train a raggedy-looking man approached me and started by saying, "hey hey, I'm not asking for money..."   I said "Sorry," and walked away.  I felt like crap when I walked away.  I legitimately know by now that it's a bad idea to talk to solicitors, whatever their intentions are, just because you never know what will happen.  I couldn't appreciate that fact before I came here; that you have to have rules for literal survival (sort of like in Zombieland?).   But man, do you feel like crap turning your back on somebody who might just want something to eat.  This sort of thing has happened countless times.  But this one in particular just left me with a pit in my gut.

It's shale gray dark outside and raining, as I type this.  This is what I picture London to look like.  Mid-apocalypse, rainy London.

I had about a half hour to kill before the my train left, so I walked through swarms of people, practicing anti-pickpocket maneuverability, and I also flipped through some magazines.

It was a long, overcast train ride to Long Beach.  But I swear as soon as we reached Long Beach, by some miracle, the SUN appeared!  Long Beach was awesome, and surprisingly homey considering its proximity to the city.  When I got off the train I spotted a Five Guys chain.  Note:  eat at Five Guys later.

from top to bottom:  sky, water, earth.  What else do you need, eh?

I remember being on the beach by myself, and reminding myself about the importance of maintaining an attitude of "child-like wonder" throughout all of my escapades.  Then I realized I was on the beach, and that wouldn't be too hard.

The waves were pretty huge, and I decided to go into the water (despite my initial reaction when I stepped into the waves, which was thinking that 'this undertow is really strong').  In fact, I didn't go in past my waist because 'this undertow is really strong'.  I stood firm and poised, working on my balance in case I ever decided to join a yoga group.  I would show up on the first day of class and do some crazy one-legged pretzel maneuver and everyone would say Wow, this guy has really great balance.  I am impressed.  By his ability.  To balance.

Not only was I testing the fortitude of my own center of gravity, I was testing the integrity of the ocean itself.  I would ensure that it was not too mean to its inhabitants or human visitors.  I was volunteer beach patrolling.

Then an actual member of the beach patrol approached me, scolded me, and told me to stay "between the flags".  Apparently they had already "officially" confirmed that 'this undertow is really strong,' and set up flagged barriers that were entirely visible to everyone, except apparently me.  I was at least 50 yards further from where I should have been.

After I got yelled at I carried my sand-bagged bum shamefully off the beach and decided to reclaim the day via a delicious Five Guys burger.  When my burger arrived in front of my person, I was upset.

Whoever cooks the burgers decided to flatten my patties such that half of my burger was hanging off the bun.  My burger had a meat skirt.  **For all fry cooks reading this who may one day cook me a burger, do NOT give my masculine burger a meat skirt.  I shouldn't have eaten the burger, it wasn't right.  But I had to put it out of its misery, its shame.

On the bright side, I am pretty sure all the sunshine killed the poison ivy I had on my ankles (don't ask me how I got poison ivy in New York City...  the Taylor Swift shoot.  I got poison ivy on the Taylor Swift shoot.)

"oh cool times square! michael, tell us about times square!"

"no."

Lady and Man Liberty

I draw very strong associations in my mind between James Taylor and every earthy/woodsy place I've ever been in the United States.  Specifically, places on highways that are in the middle of nowhere.  When I was younger, my family used to drive up to Boston for a family party every summer, and among the CDs we heard were James Taylor, the Bee Gees, and Earth Wind & Fire.  I think Roxette was in there somewhere, but we don't talk about that.  But every summer, listening to James Taylor rolling down I90/MassPike, we'd literally hike our way from Cleveland, and "Stockbridge to Boston".

I'm listening to James Taylor and that really only means one thing.  I'm ready to come home.  I'm ready to be "Homeward Bound".  Oh no, here comes Simon & Garfunkle...  (once the acoustic nostalgia begins it snowballs.)  It's great being here but I will be glad to be back in Cincinnati.  Heck, I will be glad to be on an airplane looking down on rivers and wondering where did it learn to look that cool?  I miss things being cool just because they naturally exist cool.

I was in a clothing store in SoHo yesterday after I got out of work and there was a quote on the wall that said "effortless cool is a detailed process."  First of all, that quote perfectly describes the hipster movement.  Second of all... what the hell??

In that same store I decided to try on some clothes(the sole purpose of my excursion was to try on clothes that I would never ever buy.)  I was experimenting with various shades of tool, and these clothes were definitely tooly.  I have a weird 'love-hate relationship' with many of these clothing stores.  On one hand, it is fun to go in and see the absurd things that people buy, and try on the most ridiculous/expensive thing in the store, just for fun.  I have no intention of buying a button-down that costs $180 or a t-shirt that costs $75.  What do I look like?  On the other hand, I also get this fun-depressed urge to commit arson, and burn the store to the ground.  (To be clear:  this is the "hate" part of the love-hate bi-angle.)

*For all you literalists out there, I don't actually mean to commit arson.  If it makes you feel better, you can think of "burn" the way that Elvis means it, or Nickelback, or Usher, or in that Disco Inferno song.

After I went to SoHo, I decided to go to the tip of Manhattan to ride the Staten Island Ferry.  I wanted to see lady Liberty.  She looks green, unwell.  She's probably tired from holding that torch up for so long.  How many years has it been now, 10?  I can't remember.  You'd think that the French government would build a Man Liberty next to her, to help her hold the torch, or at least to give her somebody to chat with.

MAN LIBERTY:  Oh, hi, Lady Liberty? (nervous, holding flowers)


LADY LIBERTY:  Oh, hey.

MAN LIBERTY:  Do you mind if I join you?

LADY LIBERTY:  Oh yeah sure... no problem.  Now you decide to show up.

MAN LIBERTY:  (unsure of what to say)  Well... I, I brought you some flowers.  From France!  You remember France, right?

LADY LIBERTY:  No.  I don't remember France.  And I am SOOO glad that you brought me flowers (American sarcasm).  This is just great (sarcasm).  Just what I need, something else to hold (more sarcasm).  Look everybody!  Two hands!

MAN LIBERTY:  (a bit embarrassed)  I just...  I'm sorry, I didn't know I'd offend you.

LADY LIBERTY:  Look dude, they sent you to help me hold this thing.  I get that.  I appreciate it.  But it's a shade over a century late... (eyes watering) I can't even feel my fingers anymore.  And you come in here, with your shiny copper tan... (waterworks) I can't do this...

MAN LIBERTY:  (steps in and takes torch, she sobs with head in hands) Hey, it's okay.  It's going to be okay.

LADY LIBERTY:  Really?

MAN LIBERTY:  Yes, or my name isn't "Man Liberty".  Wow this is heavy.  Can you hold it while I tie my shoe?

LADY LIBERTY:  Get off my island.

END SCENE/(TREASON?)

So my experience on the Staten Island Ferry was great, and I took lots of pictures.  There were a bunch of high school kids looking around for a phone charger on the ship, a woman who nursed a Heineken from South Ferry to Staten Island, and a bi-racial couple from Eastern Europe who made it into one of my pictures.  Speaking of pictures, PICTURE TIME!

if anybody speaks 'that', email me with the translation.

Lady Lib. 

staten island dock, looking at manhattan 

 Michael's perspective

the "Lonely Island"

In conclusion, while I'm excited for this last week, I will be more than happy to finally get back to Ohio.  I miss people that I know and love.

Enjoy this great tune by James Taylor titled "Shower the People".  It's easy to forget the people that are really important in your life, but so incredibly important to let them know that you still care about them.
James Taylor - "Shower the People"


.

New Yamsterdork (least exciting post, to date.)

I can't believe I'm already approaching my 3-week mark.  I have just 8 more full days here, and then I depart from New York to Louisville.  Then from Louisville, to Cincinnati.

New York was named after, of course, the Duke of York.  It was previously named after Ronaldo Amsterdam, and when the Duke of York stepped in on the naming rights, Ronaldo was pissed.  The "New" in "New Amsterdam" and "New York" is derived from the fact that both of these men were newborn babies.  Anyway, so this is how the dispute went down.  According to scholars, the two babies decided to duel it out - infant style, on the shores of New Yamsterdork.  And I bet you can guess the ending.  Ronaldo Amsterdam shot Dukey square between the brows.  But it was a slingshot; he was fine.  Later that week Ronny Amsterdam was deported back to Europe, because his parents missed him.  Thus, New York.

Louisville was initially named after King Louis of Russia.  Or wait, that's not right.  It was Saint Louis of Russia.  What am I talking about...  Louisville was named after St. Louis, Missouri.

Cincinnati, surprisingly enough, was actually only recently discovered.  During the whole Y2K scare, people all along the Ohio-West Virginia, Ohio-Pennsylvania border decided that they would not be safe from the impending "two zero zero zero" monster in the mountains, so they all panicked and jumped into the Ohio River and washed up like bloated seals on the shores of Cincinnati.  Just then, the clock struck midnight, and there was no monster to be found!  "This place is great!"  they collectively cheered.  And then a crazy guy said "Cinnamon Cinnamon Nature and Tigers!"  The Cincinnatians threw him in the river.  But the name stuck.

But enough about them, lets talk about me!

As you can probably tell, I don't have much to report.  I just wanted to blog.  Or did I...

I recently bought a book called "Mr. Funny Pants" and despite the name, it is probably the funniest book I've ever read.  I can't read it in public because I can't stop laughing.  And I usually read it in my hostel, which is filled with foreigners.  And foreigners obviously can't understand American laughter, because I'm laughing in English.  I just get confused stares.

This morning when I got off the subway it smelled like the ocean, and there was a nice breeze.  It was awesome.  It also smelled like locomotion exhaust, mixed with a hundred sweaty goats, and pesticides.  But it was like, half ocean, half gross stuff.  It's kinda like when you get an iced coffee from Starbucks.  It's like yeah, I know this is really just half a cup of coffee...  I'm getting ripped off here.  I just gotta drink if quickly before the ice melts.

It doesn't work the same way with air, as it turns out.  I started choking on invisible stuff.  No more saltwater, please!

There's a sign on the door of my hostel dorm that reads: "Extra Blue Blankets", with an arrow pointing down.  To the floor.  I saw no blankets, so I figured they must be under the carpet.  But when I wrenched up the carpet all i found were nickels and pennies and bodies.

Where are those blankets?

 photo caption!

awesome park on the west side 

'cool stories, hostel'

Thirty-Two.

I feared that this would happen.  Rather than immediately blog about day 2 of the Taylor Swift shoot, I put it off to give myself time to recover, and as a result the two days of shooting have started to mush together in my brain making it difficult for me to recall events that occurred.  But I needed a day to recover; Monday was literally an 18 hour work day.  Yep, I was working from 7:30am and remained on set until 1:30am that night.  Woe is me, right?  Wrong!

Despite the fact that in a two-day span, I worked 32 out of a total 48 hours, it was overall one of the coolest experiences of my life to date (can I re-emphasize THIRTY TWO?).  And I think I can try and yank those memories from their deathbeds.   So here's a little bit of day two to satisfy your salivating star-crazed palate.

We arrived on set around 8, and I was hungry.  I mean, really hungry.  So I looked around and saw this awesome breakfast buffet.  And mind you, the buffet from the day before didn't have scrambled eggs or croissants.  So I filled up a plate with these delicious scrambled eggs, a croissant, some grapefruit slices, and a cup of whole milk.  I sat there and I ate it.  Obviously I started with the eggs.  This is very exciting for you, isn't it?  It was for me.  What?  You don't want to hear about my breakfast?  How dare you.  I put my heart and soul into this blog, you ignorant bastion of literary and culinary snobbery.  Eggs are at the top of the food pyramid, and it is high time everyone start respecting the natural hierarchy.  Respect.  The egg.  Are you fed up with this paragraph yet?  Have you moved on?  Or are you still waiting for me to talk about she who must not be named?  Fine.  Taylor  Swift.  Are we happy now?

Most of the day was spent shooting a very difficult scene inside the house.  It was difficult because there were lots of angles.  It probably took longer than it should have, but I'm not allowed to have thoughts like that, because I'm a PA.  I'm not allowed to look at a set and think it would look awesome if there were more lighting on the label of the product.  I'm allowed to look at a set and think it would look awesome if that empty water bottle were removed from the floor and placed in the garbage.  Yeah, that'd look sweet.


It was actually kind of frustrating having this particular series of shots take so long, but something cool did happen.  Here's a story: a Taylor story: the kind of story that you come to my blog to read about.  DO YOU EVEN KNOW MY NAME???

I was standing at the bottom of a marble staircase.  In the takes, Taylor had to walk halfway down this staircase.  I was seriously just standing around then, and one of the producers came up to me and gave me a tall Starbucks iced coffee.  At first I thought it might be for me, but then I remembered my serfhood.  Then I looked at the straw, which had the little piece of paper still at the top, the Starbucks version of "the cherry on top" (... cheap bastards.)  But then I knew.  I knew that I had just been handed Taylor's drink.

I knew this because the producer told me "This is Taylor's drink.  I'm going to tell her assistant that you have it."  NOoooooooo don't tell the freaking assistant!  I want to give her the coffee!  The thing is, nobody is supposed to give Taylor food or drink except Taylor's assistant.  So my strategy was to just stand their like a statue and not talk to anybody, because as soon as I did, they would find me and take the drink away.  What do you think happened next?

One of the crew guys approached me and asked whose coffee that was.  I whispered, "It's Taylor's coffee."  And then I made a pathetic little hand motion that explained to him I'm holding it right here (pointing down), and you don't need to panic (thumbs up), everything is going to be okay (connect pointer finger with thumb).  But I was panicking inside, because he was going to take the drink.

"Oh really?" he said, "Well I'm going to find Taylor's assistant because she should really be the one holding that."  My hand-miming hadn't convinced him of shit.  I thought on my feet, "Well Brooke told me to stay here with the drink."  Which she had actually said.  "Oh alright, well then just hang tight there."

Everything was cool, but he was still looking for the assistant - he found her.  And he came back to me and said "Okay Mike, so Taylor's assistant is at the top of the staircase and can't come down, so at the end of this take, we're going to cut and you just bring the coffee to Taylor."  And that's what happened.  When they yelled cut, Taylor just kept coming down the stairs and I met her halfway up.

Let me describe it to you this way - because it is the only way of describing the moment that actually makes any sense.  Do you remember at the end of Titanic when they do that awesome zoom into the sunken ship, and it comes to life, and Rose meets Jack at the top of the staircase for one final time?  That is exactly what this was like, except Taylor was DiCaprio and I was Kate Winslet.  As I approached the stairwell, everyone on set was looking at me, nodding their heads and smiling, but deep down thinking I hope the PA doesn't mess this up.  And then I retorted back to shipbuilder Thomas Andrews, "Yeah Andrews, hope you don't mess up either!"  Ouch!

And then I almost tripped.  Thank God I didn't, but I nearly did.  Okay we're gonna sink this Titanic metaphor.  Back to Glen Cove.

"I'll never let go of your drink."

I approached her and said cheerfully "Here is your coffee".  And she said "Oh thank you so much!"  I could tell that she was parched.  So that makes me like the hero... right?  Anyway, she took the paper top off the straw, and I stood there and waited for her to finish drinking.  I said "I can take your garbage for you if you'd like."  She said "That'd be great thanks!"  For anybody who still isn't convinced, or perhaps is jealous of her, Taylor is a very friendly, kind-hearted person.  That was one of the coolest things to happen that day.

Now I will tell you about an equally cool thing that happened, but very briefly.  Before the male actor showed up on set, I got to act as a stand-in for him.  Obviously Taylor had a stand-in as well, but I befriended Taylor's stand-in that day and we chatted for a long time while we were standing around waiting for the cameras to get ready.  I also was pal'ing it up with the actual male actor, whose name was also Mike.

We had dinner at 9:30 that night.  We weren't even supposed to, but the shoot was just taking that long.  It's just one of those things that happened, and it was the reason why we didn't leave Woo....th Mansion until 1:30 in the morning.  Those last 4 hours were grueling.  You know that feeling in class, where the last 5 minutes just seem to drag and drag and drag?  Picture that, but apply it to the last FOUR HOURS. I'm not mad or anything, I mean I was on set and getting paid for it.  But I am still feeling the effects of an 18-hour work day, two days later.

My experience with the Taylor shoot was really great.  There's a lot of production drama that went on behind the scenes that I can't talk about, and I didn't even know about a lot of it until after we had finished the shoot.  But overall it was awesome being around that.  For a first celebrity shoot (and I don't think it will be the last... keep your eyes peeled this next week for another potentially awesome shoot), Taylor Swift was a cool one to do.  Because she is just so down to earth, and I think that's the way a lot of celebrities are.  Honestly, I think many of them are just surrounded by idiots and jerks, and we forget they are human too.  I swore that I wouldn't write a "moral of the story," damnit...

Shutting up now.

Glen Cove Cove. Taylor Swift. (And None for Gretchen Wieners.)

Today I woke up at 3:45am, left my hostel at 5am, and didn't get back until 11:00pm tonight.  I was on Long Island, at a shoot.  All in all, I had a 14 hour work day.  But it was worth it, because it was Taylor Swift.

I am going to be omitting some things from this post about things that occurred on set, for the sake of the production and the company I'm representing.  I had to sign a waiver saying that I wouldn't blah blah...  I didn't really read it.  Moving on.

In other words, don't be upset if I decide not to include certain details about the production.  Please understand that it is truly only because I don't like you.  Okay, but quite seriously, the blog might be short because I'm getting up early again tomorrow and doing the whole tay-tay-day all over again.  I need to sleep, but if I didn't write now I definitely never would I ever would have.

Here is the only picture I'm including in this post.

from left to right:  trees, mansion, not taylor's tour bus, legal obligations.

I rode the metro downtown to 23rd street and walked to a place called Gemini Deli where I was to meet a guy named Matt, in a van, at 5:45am.  Just like in movies when banks get robbed.  The crew van, fully loaded, departed through Queens and onward into Long Island, to a cozy coastal town called "Glen Cove".  In Glen Cove there is a mansion, and in that mansion, we executed the commercial shoot.

There are so many things that happened over the course of the day, so I will list them and describe them briefly.  But not too briefly.  A satisfying briefly, like boxer brieflys.
1.  walkie talkies
2.  Rob
3.  Taylor
4.  Agency PA
5.  cord wrapping
6.  picture (proof)

1.  Walkie Talkies
The Taylor Swift commercial shoot is my 3rd job as a PA, and the first one where I've gotten to wear a hands-free walkie talkie that snakes its way down my back from shoulder to belt loop like some parasitic spectre, whispering voices into my ear with echoes of "we need more tall directors chairs"  and "can we get some PAs on set" and "copy that."  The response to every walkie-talkie request is "copy that".  It's fun speaking a space language even when you're not in space.


However unpleasant the analogy, having a walkie talkie was awesome because I was never sitting around.  There was always something that needed to be done, and even if it was something as small as making sure somebody else was doing something requested via walkie-talkie, it was still great just being involved.  Also, you can hear what's going on with the big picture constantly, just from hearing the production team communicating.  It'd be like peering over Alex Trebek's shoulder during a game of Jeopardy.  And secretly laughing at the incompetent contestants who don't know the answers.

Only joking, I wasn't laughing at anyone.

2.  Rob
Rob is an awesome guy.  Rob is the literal voice of the production.  He talks on the walkies all the time.  He is hilarious.  And today he liked me, and always had me do cool stuff.  Hands-on stuff, like helping transport gear and... and.... well, I'll get to that later.

3.  Taylor
I was looking around for a working bathroom in this huge mansion (I later found out there wasn't even one), and I started walking upstairs.  It was early in the day, and Taylor wasn't supposed to be out for quite some time.  At least a couple of hours, until the set was ready.  I peeked around corners for a room of rest, and I hear someone on the walkie go "no, she's not there.  she wanted to have a look around the house."  I passed a bedroom on the second floor and there she is (with a few other people in the room) looking around, admiring the architecture and intricately crafted crown molding and century-old paint.  For the record, she's not just pretty on her album covers, or on SNL.

It is strange seeing a person you have seen many times before but have never met, and immediately recognizing them.  Taylor immediately struck me as very down-to-earth, and human.  Not as some fame-crazed country popstar.  Can't really describe it.  Maybe tomorrow I will come up with a good word for it.

4.  Agency PA
The Elizabeth Arden people seemed really excited that I decided to come to the shoot.  I honestly thought it should have been the other way around:  me being really excited, and them - the creative team - thinking oh cool, another intern.  Let's send him to Starbucks.  That didn't happen, because they are great people in addition to being skilled professionals (not that anything is wrong with coffee runs.  We all need our java juice.)

The EA people decided early on in the day to assign me to Taylor's agency people, to be the agency PA, which was pretty cool.  Anytime they needed me, I'd be there to get them anything/accommodate their stay at Woo...sh..eh...kip Mansion.  In the meantime, that meant I'd be able to hang around on set.  Because they had to be there, I technically was supposed to be there (I could've very easily been booted to the other room.)

I won't tell you much at all about the set other than the fact that the first set of shots were indoors, and there was a mirror.  And 2 or 3 times, Taylor stared straight intently at me in the reflection of the mirror during the takes.  On a side note, I will no longer be accepting applications for... wives.

Cord Wrapping:
After lunch, we started up again at 2:00.  I was nearly dosing off when in a span of 3 minutes, I was invited to come back to the second shoot (tomorrow) by the EA people, and was also recruited by Rob to do legitimate crew work on set.  To date, it is the most fun I've had on a North 6/whitelabelproduct production set.  It was a blast.

We were inside still, and Rob wanted to see me do some actual crew work.  So he swapped out one guy with me, in the middle of run-through takes, and had me grab a bundle of 3 cables that run from the video camera to some magical place - a box, a computer, maybe a whale's belly, I don't know - where it gets stored so that they can make a commercial.

Considering they carry the video and audio signals from the camera, they are the most important cables on a set.  It was my responsibility to make sure that when the camera dolly was being moved (which it did, a lot), the cables didn't get caught underneath and people didn't trip on them.  Not only was I near the camera and talent on set, but I was doing a job that was crucially important for the production.  It was awesome.  This is not a brief blog posting at all.... oh well.

6.  Picture (Proof)
You want to see proof that I was actually there, doing all of this?  Well, I don't have one.  I mislead you. But Taylor Swift has a picture of me, so I'm not lying.  Let me explain, oh captive captivated readers...

During the outdoor takes, we had just finished one set of shots and were setting up in a different area.  Taylor pulled out a camera from somewhere, and started taking pictures of the set (which looked really really cool).  I saw another one of my PA compadres helping set up for the next scene - taking leaves from a garbage bag, and scattering them all over the ground.  I noticed Taylor walking sort-of in that direction, camera in hand.  I seized the opportunity and went over to help scatter the leaves with the other PA.

OTHER PA:  "Mike, I'd be careful...  If a prop guy saw you do this he might get mad."

MIKE:  "Yeah."

I took a handful of leaves and let it scatter down to the ground.  From behind me I saw a quick camera flash.  Then I heard Taylor show her agent the picture and say "Oh wow, this one looks pretty cool."

I will never, ever see that photo, and I don't care.  Taylor Swift took a picture of me - just me - playing in the leaves.

Goodnight.

Move It, Football-Head

I seriously think that I started preparing for this New York trip when I was just a child, through many hours of watching Hey Arnold on Nickelodeon.  First of all, I think Arnold's neighborhood was modeled after apartments on the upper West Side.  Didn't take me long to settle in.

Like Arnold, most everybody I have met does not disclose their last name.  Good lesson, Arnold.

Another lesson:  don't get on the wrong train, because it will take you to a place that you think is hell.  Get on the right train.

Lesson #3:  Diversity.  Just look at their heads.

Lesson #4:

don't be a creep/watch out for creeps.

Lesson #5:  When a heat wave hits NY there is very little you can do to escape its wrath.  Makes me wanna go back to December, this heat has been ridiculous.  Although, much better the past few days.

I'm sure others will come.  If I meet Monkeyman in the next two weeks I will likely faint.  And then he will save me from my unconscious state.  For those of you who have never seen Hey Arnold, I apologize... but its like a pity apology, because you'd be much better off in general having seen this show.

Yesterday at work I got sent on an errand to Grand Central Station (check) to pick up a package, and I ended up walking by the Chrysler building (check), which was super neat.  Grand Central is the only place I've visited in NY so far where I've seen multiple cases of really angry people.  It does sort of make sense; Grand Central is the heart of Manhattan in many ways, and very congested.  I think I was just witnessing little heart attacks, murmurs, or palpitations in the city's rhythm.  But it's good to know the whole city isn't like that.  Manhattan is much more diverse in lifestyle than I had given it credit for.  Like a centaur, with an oversized heart.

I've been getting to know the city mostly through little errand runs like the Grand Central one, and I probably already know my way around New York better than most business travelers, and maybe dogs.  Maybe not dogs.

It always fascinated me how you can be on one block that is bustling with shops and people, and the next street over the only thing there is a shy little art gallery, and the rest of the block is a gallery of urban decay, more real than anything you'd find elsewhere.  The good thing is, I haven't run into many of these streets.

I saw a guy the other day wearing a sign on his body, advertising "eyebrows".  Just eyebrows.  Allow your imagination to ponder that one.  I'm still investigating.

One thing that I've figured out is that in Manhattan everyone delivers.  If there's a store, there's a bike, and there's a dude who will ride that bike and bring you your filet mignon or Chilean fish tacos in a little plastic container.  This concept, I am still trying to get a grasp on.  I'm afraid to call anyone who's not pizza.

Pigeons are bullies.  There, I said it.  But I couldn't just sit back any longer... When the old woman dumps the rest of her seed on the ground, why do you have do push all the little finches out of the way?  Why you gotta be so mean?

Today I went back to that apartment and got to hang with Alex and Alex again.  It was alright, and I went and got lunch in SoHo but I had to be Swift and get back to his apartment.  Despite today's babysitting, this weekend there might be a cool shoot I get to go on.  But we will see.

Oh Tom Petty's daughter was in the office yesterday.  That was pretty cool.
Goodnight.

Talking to Myself, Steve Jobs Style

Enjoy a video I recorded of myself walking back from dinner. Sarah Oldham wanted me to do this.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLrMNz-eLnM&feature=youtube_gdata_player">

Snow Day in SoHo (Sweet Shoot, Sally)!

I haven't met anybody in New York named Sally.

I have, however, met people named Reese, Maritza, Caleb, Cortade, Raphael, Manel, Annabelle, Elvira and Church.  In my hostel alone, I've met people from Brazil, England, Scotland, Catalonia, Germany, Sardenia, Little Rock, Honduras, Hong Kong, and Texas - and wait, as of 5 seconds ago, Vancouver.  There are great people from just about everywhere.

Yesterday I spent pretty much all day at a Tiffany's shoot.  This was a HUGE shoot, occurring in 3 different locations (SoHo, Central Park, and Top of the Rock).  The company I intern at is called 'North 6', which deals with print advertising.  Its sister company, 'aWHITELABELproduct', does work in video/commercial advertising.  Both companies were present for this shoot.

I showed up on set, a cute little side-street in SoHo a few blocks from the office.  There, I saw a slew of rental trucks and mobile trailers for talent, hair/makeup, crew, etc.  On set there were tents set up where monitors were positioned with live feeds from the camera.  Oh, and it was snowing.

'a foam-like substance that looks like snow'

-Noah (Brandon Brown), Musk

Yesterday it was at least 75 degrees out, but when you see the ad, you would never guess that it was shot in the summertime.  They got the snow on the ground with ice trucks that essentially operated like giant slushie machines.  If I had some fruit punch on me, I would've chucked the carton into the shredder and watched it spew out of the hose all over the set.  And then I would've eaten the set.  Okay you get the point...

I was much more involved during this shoot than the Maybelline shoot.  Which was amazing.  This guy named Jamie who was super intense but also incredibly personable sort-of took me under his wing for the day.  It was very apparent that he was a veteran and knew exactly what had to get done, so I listened to him whenever he told me to do stuff like collecting cones and moving tables.  The jobs don't sound exciting but it is all stuff that needs to get done, and once again, just being on set was a privilege that I am extremely grateful for.

For the next set of shots we ventured to Central Park, and that's when it started raining.  Yep, a supposedly winter-time shoot and it was raining.  Luckily, real life rain doesn't show up on camera (Jurassic Park special features disc taught me this), but fake snow does!  And at Central Park and SoHo, they had plenty of fake snow.  It literally was soapy foam bubbles that floated down and stuck to your clothes, and when they accumulated on the ground you had to be careful not to slip on them.  Not only would you look like an idiot but you would be clean, and I have learned so far that it is not in a PA's job description to be clean (*Work now, bathe later).  So I avoided falling for sucio's sake.

I think I can only show very limited photos of the sets, and I can't include talent.  Sorry guys.

The camera and crew is all gathered underneath the arches.  I was in the rain directing park pedestrians and one crazy guy away from the set.

The one crazy guy I am referring to almost ruined the shot.  The director yelled action, and the two actors began walking slowly up the stairs (snow-foam falls gently).  A guy walks up and almost on set.  I had to use my arm and say "excuse me sir, I'm sorry there is a shoot going on".  He just stared at me.  "Oh yeah? You guys got a permit?"  Oh boy.  Here we go.  Of course we have a freaking permit, it's a Tiffany's shoot.  The last thing I needed was some guy walking down the stairs mid-shoot and halting the operation to make sure that he ran an impromptu permit check on Tiffany & Co.

I said "yes, we have a permit.  I'm sorry sir it will just be a minute."  To which he responds, "I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Patrick Swayze, did he leave yet?"  Ooooh boy...  "Yeah sir, you just missed him..."  At this point I'm thinking, okay, there's something off about this guy.

When I saw him lean up against a stone pillar and let out a bellowing rooster crow, that pretty much confirmed it.  At that point it was alright, he had found his happy pillar and was safely away from the set.

NO reenacting that scene from 'Ghost'.

-Community

After Central Park we ventured to Rockefeller Center.  After traversing a labyrinth of underground tunnels, parking garages, freight elevators, etc., the other PAs and I made our way to the 65th floor of 30 Rock, in the Rainbow Room.  This part of the day was the single coolest thing that I've done in New York to date.

Free food.  65th floor, 30 Rock.

The actual shoot was on the 69th floor of 30 Rock, the Observation Deck.  Aside from the fact that the Rockefeller Center itself is one of the most beautiful buildings in New York, we were on top of it, shooting an uber-classy Tiffany's commercial there.  Everything about the experience was stunning.

I put those ropes there!

cool view Hansel.

The funny thing about this shoot was that earlier that day, before the shoot, I had no idea that I would be going to 30 Rock for the Tiffany's shoot.  I had to run an errand that morning, and that errand took me by St. Patrick's Cathedral (near 30 Rock).  I stopped into the Cathedral for a bit to pray, and on my way out I snapped this ditty.

'Oh hi Mark.'

When I was on set for the Tiffany's shoot, I snapped this ditty.

'Oh, hey Johnny.  What's up?'

The male and female models were both really good looking people.  There were some tourists hanging out at Top of Rock craning their necks (tryin' to creep a little sneak peek!  YOU can travel the--) to see the models, and there was this one Italian mom with an Italian boy, maybe 6 or 7.  The Tiffany's shoot had some suave moonlight dance-type music going, with some female on vocals.  And the little boy was just staring at the woman model, and he kept asking "Esta cantando?  Esta cantando?"  He thought the woman was a singer.

When I saw that, I thought to myself, this right here should be the ad.  A little Italian boy for his first time visiting New York, awestruck, staring at this beautiful angel and hearing the music.  THAT was the ad.

I'm going to end this blog with some pictures that pretty much sum up how my night ended.  I don't think I really need to say anything about them.

 first picture of me in NY.  I am actually here.

Bubble Guns at Planet Beef

Remember in one of my previous posts where I talked about Kombucha, the drink that exploded on my arm?  Well yesterday I was walking around and passed a girl who had just recently opened a Kombucha.  I noticed her because her drink started foaming and dripping down her arm in the middle of the street.  Just like me!  I was so excited that I struck up a conversation.  "Hey!  That same thing happened to me the other day," pointing to her drink.  She had headphones in, but she also just looked at me disgusted like yeah, I'm really glad we have this in common...  Well, I was glad.  Nevertheless, I'm mentally adding her to my paltry list of "friends" that I have "met" in New "York" City (we all know you were supposed to be New Amsterdam...)

Second order of business.  Never buy the tiramisu cake pops from Starbucks.  Aside from the fact that I felt excessively feminine while eating it, there was nothing in that cake pop that tasted anything like coffee liqour, chocolate, or lady fingers.  Disgusting.

Yesterday, I had the privilege - and it seriously was a privilege - of being present on the day of the Maybelline shoot.  It occurred at Pier 59 studios, and this time I took a picture so you could see that this place is very literally an ugly oyster sitting on the edge of Manhattan.  But inside, there sits a beautiful clam.  What?  Yeah, I guess a pearl could be there too.

That silver part is where the magic happens.  Or, as Tina Fey calls it, 'gay magic'.

Tina Fey actually did call it that, speaking about photo shoots.  For the record I'm not being offensive.  Okay so the Maybelline shoot was really long, as in... I stayed for 9 hours and I didn't even stay the whole time long.  But that is normal in this business.  In the studio there were 5 different sets, which is a lot.  There was a different model for every set, and they all were extremely professional and fit the role of he particular shoot perfectly.  Though I want to, I will not go on a tangent about that.  Overall it was very exciting seeing the whole production process, and for each set there were literally hundreds of pictures taken, from a number of different angles.

Everybody that was working there on set was extremely kind, and when I would go up to them sheepishly and introduce myself, they would usually introduce me to one or two other people.

Most of the day I was running errands for the crew, getting pop and beer and bottled waters.  I was sort of nervous walking around in the area, especially because people were carrying guns.  In fact I got shot during one of my trips.  By a little girl with a bubble gun.

her daddy has no idea she's packing.

d

This grocery store that they sent me to 3 times is called 'Western Beef'.  First of all... why?  Second of all, I hated that name so I decided to start calling it Planet Beef in my head.  On the second trip they sent me to get 8 six-packs of beer for the crew later that night.  I tried carrying them in grocery bags, 4 blocks back to the studio, but I could not.  Luckily, this friendly delivery guy at Planet Beef asked me if I needed help.  I told him no thanks, that I was walking 4 blocks.  But he said not a problem, and we split the load.  I was paranoid letting this guy take half of my purchase; after my bubble wound that I received on the way to Planet Beef, I had become extremely wary of everyone.  It was sort-of like...

'share the load...'

I shared it.  The guy was really nice, from Honduras.  I am learning that even in living in a city that any decent, morally-minded person would have every right to abhor, there are tons of good people who have incredibly giving hearts.  It is comforting to see.

This video is also comforting to see.

Mike this better not be another stupid movie reference.

Don't worry it's not.

Alex and Alex

This is going to be a very "visual" post.  I am going to employ the use of "visual aids" whenever it is appropriate, and often times when it is irrelevant.  Now class, let us begin.

Last night was pretty great and also bittersweet because my friend Manel (I spelled his name wrong in the previous post, for all those sticklers out there.  ya caught me!) just going to start over.  My friend Manel.  Last night was his last night in town before he went onwards to Mexico, and so we wanted to hang out.  I invited him to a birthday party that I was invited to by Ali Galieti who was invited by her friend, anonymous b-day girl.  This event occurred at a bar near SoHo, and I originally thought the name of the bar was "Home Sweet Home" but I was wrong, it was called "Libation".  Yikes.

We entered Libation, and what to my wondering eyes did appear... people were actually enjoying libations!  Who knew??  That gives me an idea, I'll open a bar called Beer that only serves coconut milk.  I just want to mess with the system, man...

I'm rambling...  BAM! VISUAL AID!

Ali and I!

I really owe a very fun night to this girl right here, who I have known for pretty much my entire life.  She is incredibly sweet and a lot cooler than the DJ at the bar.  BAM AID!

the man, the myth, Manel.

Alright enough bar talk.  There are kids reading this I am sure.  As you were, children.  Go play with that Play-Doh stuff.  Or silly putty.  Or a caulk gun.

Today was a really interesting day.  I had to go over to the house of the guy who owns the company I'm interning at, because he is out of town and was getting a home theater system installed (projector, speakers, etc).  And they needed somebody to go over and make sure the Ukrainian guys didn't steal anything or eat all of the dill pickles from the fridge.  I'm not being racist, they were indeed Ukrainian, and they were large enough to take my ass and kick it many time.

I've been hanging around foreigners a lot lately and my English is getting worst.

So I was in this unbelievable studio loft, babysitting two mammoth Ukrainian technicians (both named Alex), and waiting for the 5 hours to be quickly over.  For lunch I ate well.  BAM!

After Kronk 1 and Kronk 2 finished their movie theater project, I had just enough time to head to my first on-set shoot.  BAM!  Just kidding, I didn't take any photos there.  But here's a photo of me babysitting my European droogs.

'and the hottest in the office award goes to...

ryaaan the temp!!!'

When I was on set today, nothing much happened.  But the studio is located on this secluded Pier on the western edge of Manhattan, and it is incredibly modern and soo cool inside.  From the outside, you would never guess that there is a professional production studio inside.  Why is my life turning into Zoolander?

clarification:

that's not manhattan, and i'm not on a boat.

i'm on manhattan, and the skyline is on a boat.

After I finished up at the studio, I walked out somewhere in Chelsea, and started exploring.  Then, exploring turned into getting lost.  Then I figured out where I was, and 6 blocks later realized I was going the wrong way.  After all that walking, I figured I'd just walk to the subway and head back to the hostel.  But when I got to the metro station, I was in a nice area, and not quite done exploring.  So I kept walking.  After a while, I thought why not try and walk up to Midtown?  And after that, I thought, why not try walking all the way back to my hostel?  When I had to eat, I ate.  When I had to sleep, and when I had to go, I, I went.

i just started walkin'

All in all, I pretty much walked half of Manhattan, just because.  It's Friday, why not.  I don't know, I enjoyed it.  But my feet feel like overcooked chicken meat.

this is where i went.  consequently this is

the greatest bed i've ever slept on.

neato gang.

central park.  wait mike that's a road!  no, it's a park.

I have nothing more to say, except Merry Christmas and goodnight.

Tiny Cities Made of Ashes

The past two days have been sort-of hectic, and I'm still trying to process everything that's happened.  I've always felt that my memory naturally works to remember things by association of events, rather than recounting events chronologically.  But this is a blog, and it's time to set those memories in their respective proper places.

the wormhole machine from 'Contact'

Monday nothing really happened.  Check.

Tuesday was my first actual day of work for my internship.  I admit I was nervous walking into the building in SoHo.  It's always bizarre starting up something totally new, everyone's talking to you and explaining things and all you can do really is say "Okay", "Right, I gotcha"  and "Yeah that makes sense." Anything that you say beyond that immediately becomes pretentious, so it's better to just shut up and listen, smiling when appropriate.  Another cool thing about first days is how your limbs don't really work that well.  It's just a part of getting comfortable in a new setting I suppose, like when Bambi was born.  But it's just a strange thing where as much as you think, 'damnit, don't feel awkward.  It's just an office', you look at your arms resting on your lap like 'what are these doing here?  can I get rid of them?'


Despite the original uneasiness, I very much enjoy the office, and my superior Lauren is super cool and extremely friendly.  I've only met one other intern, and I would tell you her name if I could spell it, but she is also very nice.

Today when I went into the office I was doing a lot of grunt work, which I don't really mind so much right now.  Life of a PA I suppose...  But they had me working with the Zale's group - you know, the diamond store - and I had to prep a bunch of payroll timecards.  As I was sitting there I wanted to make small talk, but the only thing that kept popping into my head was 'So have you guys seen Blood Diamond?'  I just kept my mouth shut (again), they were pretty busy anyway.

Despite the stories I have given thus far, I am not a mute, and I'm already starting to feel comfortable with the people I work with.  They're all very anti-NY-stereotype-type personalities.

I haven't seen friend or family since Saturday, which is strange because I see enough people in one day to occupy a year's worth of acquaintances.  I don't like not trusting people.  But I'm quickly learning that you absolutely need to be distrusting of mostly everyone, otherwise you'll get stabbed.  Likely by a dog-walker.  (or worse, ex-pelled!)  <-- hey there family!

I've been wondering for a while now why they leave the doors at the end of metro trains unlocked.  But now I realize, they're designated for public speakers.  That has to be it.  I've already seen a number of people who, while the train is in motion, will pass between cars.  And they always have something to say.  ALWAYS.  First time it was a drunk guy who wanted to sing to all of us.  He was probably thinking you know what, that metro car over there doesn't look very cheerful.  I reckon I should bust through those doors and brighten their day with a song, and while I'm at it, I could lean over everyone and scare the shit out of them.


And shit scare he did.
Point and case, minimal trusting and zero conversations on the metro.  Ever.

oh, hi mark.

Highlights:  Last night I went out and had a drink with this guy from my hostel named Manil, from Barcelona.  We talked a lot about the differences in culture and politics and sports between the US and Catalonia.  It was a good time, and nice to have somebody to talk to.  **For the record, he just came in the room chanting 'mike mike mike mike!'  And I ended my night today by going to Little Italy and hunting down the best cannoli on Manhattan.  I found it and pounced on it with my face.

and you'll sing 'vita bella'

Towel Shopping & Kombucha

Not much to report from today.  Woke up at 8 and met some British guys who are living in the same room as I, and then went towel shopping so I could shower.

At 9 a.m. I walked into a 4 story Bed Bath & Beyond that had an escalator for shopping carts.

Besides that nothing too interesting.  I bought a drink called Kombucha.  I didn't realize it was carbonated and it Pompeii'd all over my arm.  Currently in a Starbucks reading C.S. Lewis and listening to some Simon and Garfunkle.  Life is good.

Welcome to Monatin

Yesterday was awesome.  When I got back to the hostel last night I was so exhausted I hit the pillow and sunk like butter into the hardwood mattress.  It felt like a giant cream puff.

I made a friend on my flight from Bmore to NY, a guy named Jessie who is doing mission work and invited me to come help out at this place in Brooklyn some time this week.  Very cool, thanks Jessie.

please turn off all electronics, Michael.

At the airport I immediately bought my metro card, and was trying to figure out how the hell I was going to get from LaGuardia to the Upper West Side.  I walked outside and saw a few buses.  I went up to one, confused.  "Excuse me, do you know where this bus is going?"  I asked some guy.  "Monatin," some guy said.  "Sorry?"  "Monatin."

Screw it, I'm getting on the bus.  Really hoped he was trying to say Manhattan.  He was.

The bus led us through Harlem towards the west side, and when I felt we were getting close I got off, looking for a subway to take me south.  Couldn't find the subway.  So not that anything's wrong with Harlem, but...  I stood out.  Maybe I didn't, I don't know.  I'm kinda white.

Eventually bussed my way south past central park, and when I got to my hostel at 12:45, they told me check in wasn't til 3.  No big deal though; I dropped my bags and walked around Broadway Street for a while, which was awesome.  There were lots of people walking dogs, so I knew I was pretty much safe. I mean honestly, who's gonna stab and rob you while they're taking little Roscoe on his afternoon walk? Then again, it's probably happened.

this is my safe neighborhood.

it smells like urine sometimes.

After that I went to Times Square - Jason was planning on meeting me @ 3, so I still had time to kill.  And this part of my day was probably the best.  Not because of Times Square, I only stayed there a few minutes.

What I DID do is walk from Times Square over to 5th Avenue, which was a really cool street.  I remember seeing these two mobsters - and yes, they absolutely had to be mobsters - walking twice as fast as everyone else, as if they had just committed murder and were trying to get away.  I wouldn't be surprised if it were true.  They were dressed in your typical boss and consigliere attire, carrying the same sense of authority that ants have over tiny rocks.  And they were bilingual!  Cincinnati doesn't have bilingual mobsters, New York is so cool!

And then I found it, what I was looking for:  Rockefeller Plaza.  (Side Note:  my dream job is to be a writer for an NBC sitcom.  Rockefeller Center is the location of NBC headquarters.  And also the location where the show 30 rock takes place.  SNL happens every Saturday in Rockefeller Center.)

I walked in and am just in awe.  I'm starting to get really tired, because I had woken up at 4:30 that morning.  But yet, I'm walking around in this weird half-zombie half-awestruck state, in the building I want to one day work in, all by myself and having very little clue of which hallways I'm supposed to stay out of.  Turns out I made a non-tourist turn, and was stared down in passing by a suspicious maintenance worker.  I turned around and just headed to the gift shop.

The NBC gift shop was the highlight of my day.  Amidst Starburns t-shirts and TGS mugs and a huge array of other NBC merch, I was in heaven (financial hell, but emotional heaven).  As I was calling a friend of mine, a guy at the gift shop commented on my Cleveland t-shirt, and said there was a guy who worked in the shop who was from Ohio.  Cincinnati, actually.  "Oh wow, I go to Xavier" I say.  And me and this guy Pete started chatting for a good 5 minutes.  He was a young guy, and said he found the job on Craigslist.  Lucky bastard he is.  We talked about The Chris Farley Show, biography which both of us had read.  We talked about other NBC stuff, and how both of us want to one day work doing actual production stuff for NBC.  After I walked away, I briefly thought wouldn't it be funny if we ended up working together some day.

After I grabbed a job application (shut up,  there's a chance...), I walked outside and this was the icing on the cake:

30 rock.

I ended up meeting with Jason, and having been running since 4:30 am on an Auntie Anne's pretzel, it was time for dinner.  We went to this awesome family-style Italian restaurant called Carmines and ordered baked ziti that was probably the best baked ziti I've ever had.  Don't ask me how much it cost.

After that we went to Soho and met up with Jason's brother Keith, and we went to another restaurant, where I drank 5 glasses of water and passed on the food.  Then it was time to go, and then I got lost.

The train that I thought would take me to the west side was actually headed to the east side, and before I knew it I was on Roosevelt Island.  There was a really beautiful moment before the chaos started when I was looking out from the Island onto Manhattan.  I'm really happy to be here, I thought.  I was too exhausted to really probe for thoughts deeper than that.  I just wanted to get back to the hostel.  I saw one of those lift things that carries people over water and to Hitler's mountain hideout, and other things like that.  This is where Green Goblin almost killed Spiderman.  Cool.

All in all, it took me 2 hours longer to get back than it should have.  But it was a freaking awesome first day.

ronnosevelt island.

Layover?

First off, I hope you enjoy reading about my travels this upcoming month.  I am sure the time will fly even faster than the southwest flight this morning, but not quite as fast as the talking speed of the woman i sat next to on said flight.

I saw a lot of really cool stuff this morning, like... clouds.  Okay actually the clouds were pretty awesome.  I think I was the only one on the flight to immediately claim a window seat, which confused me because the sky looks so cool from above.  You never get that perspective, and I imagine it must be the way the dentist feels when he probes my mouth.

Why have I only mentioned clouds so far?  "yeah mike I thought this was supposed to be a NYC blog, what the crap?"  Shut up mysterious voice, I can't help it.  You see, I am currently experiencing what is called a "layover".

Not only have I found out that "layover" implies more waiting, there also is nothing in this airport for me to comfortably lay over/on top of.  Severely let-down.  They should call these things "let-dovers".

Hope this blog #1 hasn't been a let-dover for your expectations.

Michael G