Made it to HOLLYWOOD

But only to visit!

My new family, thanks to my new son-in-law, invited us to stay with them near LA and I was all too happy to oblige. Their wonderful hospitality was the highlight of our stay... in addition to meeting their friends (hundreds)... and of course the whirlwind tour of the nearby environs that so manny would-be actors would covet a glimpse of. I confess, I number among them.

Our wind blew through Ventura, Rodeo Drive, Huntington Gardens (complete with tea), and 2 very distinctly different Hollywood parties. One at the local Chabad House for the newly weds -where we got to meet some 200-plus guests and chow on some very excellent buffet food while watching a slide show of the nuptuals... and then there was the other party, a birthday party in the Hollywood Hills for a TV producer-cousin of my new family, where the entertainment was a beautiful transvestite Marilyn Monroe (I keep crossing paths with her imago every now and then). But the real attraction for me was the view from the hilltop house: SPECTACULAR! All the twinkly lights of the city seen from above. A lasting impression -fer shure!

There is a very seductive allure to California. Everyone is beautifull, usually tanned, wealthy, friendly, easy-going... and the weather is usually nice... the sights of the hills and the beaches constantly becon. And even the precipice-driving along Route 1 has a quality of grandeur. It's easy to want to live there. But although I really got to like my new family and would love to visit them often, I'm still a New Yorker -I need the gritty city, the in-your-face attitude, the quick pace... the wake-me-up-every-minute life.

Although... if a big movie-offer came along...well....

Made it to the Rainbow Room

I work in the theater distric of Times Square and my daily walks to work have taken me past the strikers who have been out here for a couple of weeks protesting the fact that they're not getting paid for their share of contributions to the theatrical arts. I stopped to chat with one of them as a gesture of support -and perhaps to satisfy my longings for what I've now left behind.

2 months into my real-life full-time job, there's a holiday party which puts me on the 65th floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza, also known as The Rainbow Room. The very same place that I had missed out on just a couple of months ago when I was doing my paparazzo gig for JLo at Radio City Music Hall.

Funny how life turned out! Here I am at this coveted area, eating sumptuous food and hobnobbing with my office buddies -drink in hand and gazing out through the hazy glass windows at the New York City skyline... my reverie takes off into the distance and I think back to the fantastic time I had just 2 weeks ago at my daughter's wedding. I danced, I drank, I rejoyced, I ate, I hugged and kissed my relatives and friends. A vast difference compared to this place where most people are just standing still listening to the blaring DJ'd music.

I spent an hour and decided to boogie out of the increasing crowd. Down the windy elevators of the RCA building, picking up my coat and scooting out into the tumultuous crowd awaiting the lighting of the Christmas tree. There would be some celebrities there to sing songs -but there was no allure. That part of my parallel life was now in denouement.

Tonight, on the news, they announced that the strike was over and everyone was going back to work. The stock market was going back up -and life is good again!

New Amsterdam in Brooklyn

Williamsburg, Brooklyn - the new Greenwich Village... but only on the west-side of the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. A late season release for FOX-network TV, this sci-fi detective series was shooting this particular episode in the Brooklyn Beer micro-brewery. This will, I think, be the last gig for me... I've landed a major full-time job in NYC... in fact, in the very middle of NYC: Times Square! And the realization hits me that I have to leave all this fun and friends... yet again.

Oh well... let me get "into character" one more time.


(Episode 6 aired on 3/31/2008-with me in the background and the patriarch hood descendant, Theo Spoor (Larry Keith) in the front left.)

We were all mafiosi, attending a wake for a "dearly departed". And most of the extras picked for this role, really looked the part. Everyone was dressed in dark clothes and a somber attitude -with lots of laughs and chattings between the somber re-takes. I was paired up with Chris, who has been in this business (showbiz, not mafia), for the past 20 years. He was SAG and knew how to make between 20 and 30 thousand dollars per year, being an extra. He also explained something new to me: how to collect unemployment when not working in gigs... hmm! I never did that since I always thought these were only temporary jobs, and not really enough to garner unemployment checks. But Chris knew that they always deduct NY TAXES... and so... you can apply for UI. You learn something new in this business every day.

The star of the show was a foreign film star, Nikolay Coster Waldau -who resembled Dennis Leary... a lot! The director was Lasse Hallstrom (Chocolat, Cider House Rules... and husband of Lina Olin). Lasse was tall and bald. Which was strange, because in all of his internet photos, he has hair. Oh well, maybe I'll shave my head too one day when my hair gets too thin to do combovers!!
One of the guest stars that Nikolay played a scene with was Adam Storke (Mystic Pizza-1988). Apparently the two characters have a disagreement in the back of the wake-area and Niklay storms out (of the brewery). This is the scene where I was tapped to do a "walk-by".
One of the DP's came over to me and put me next to his camera. He then instructed me to start to do a "banana walk around" of the oncoming star. But the "oncoming star", Nikolay, came over to me also and pointed to the ground where there was a large white spot, saying "When I pass by that, YOU start to move...". WOW! A principal actually spoke to me -directly... with "direction" for the first time in my showbiz career.

I nodded in acknowledgement (he didn't look like he wanted to discuss the matter too much further...). And then the film rolled, ACTION! was called... we did the scene... and it was a wrap!!! Neat. It was a perfect take. The look on the star's face was bewildering. He had a disbelieving grin on his face as he rushed by me... without the slightest of a nod for a "job well done"! Sheeesh...
In the final cut I was literally a blur going past Nikolay as he pauses and looks up in recognition of a painting that he did a hundered or so years ago!

"LUNCH!" was called at around 8:PM and we did the caste-system-lineup: crew, SAG, us extras...
But there was plenty of good food so people could go back for seconds if they wanted to. Few of us did... we just piled it up into 3 plates on our first go-around! There was lot's of political chatter around our table which eventually melded into the aether. Evening had arrived and it was dark outside, so the bright flood-lights were brought into service. A few more scenes and we were wrapped for the day.

On the walk back to our holding area, a Russian orthodox church some 6 blocks away, people struck up conversations with each other. As I was ambling along, suddenly a hand with a cell-phone jutted in front of my face. A young blond girl was attached to it. She began a conversation with me saying: "That's my dog... look how cute she is in that position - my "Moms" just sent me this." It was a bright blob of light on her cell phone... I really couldn't make out the details of the picture shining in my eyes on her cell phone, but I went along with the impromptu conversation: "That's great! Tell me about your dog..." No problem there -she went into a monologue of sorts :
"She is just the best ever dog... got her from a shelter... hated to leave the shelter because you know what will happen to the others, but... my Moms wanted a smaller dog, but... and she is a 'waterdog' with webs between her toes... and she does these cute things like immitate the way I sit... I just love her...". Reminded me of this telephone commercial I once saw on tv -where a young prepubescent cheerleader-type teen goes on and on with run-on sentences while digressing about "...I love chewing gum..."!!! But this girl's demeanor of striking up a sudden friendship just like "that", caught me by surprise and I was feeling great about it... I began to filter out her talk and notice how pretty her face looked... and wondered what made her befriend me. Unexpected flirting like that hasn't happened to me since I was 16.

And then it was "wake-up time" -we arrived back at the holding area scattering to our respective seats as the check-out line for the voucher-signing began to form. I asked the PA doing the administration if I could have a "waiver" (after all, I did a 'banana-walkaround') -but all I got was a guffaw. So I packed up my stuff and shook hands with the guys around the table and Sara, my impromptu doggie-story-teller... and said good bye. I walked over to my car and blasted out of Williamsburg a millon miles above the Brooklyn Queens Expressway.

Jogging in Central Park for a LINCOLN Mercury commercial

Yet another cushy gig... commercials generally are!

A car promo for Lincoln Mercury that had to have some elements of jogging and spectating hired about 60 of us to be extras in NYC's sunny Central Park. The director was Roger Michell, famous for his direction of the movie Notting Hill and the fallout from his sudden departure of not wanting to direct the 22nd James Bond film due to that old directorial demon: "creative differences". (Apparently there was no shooting date set nor was there a script!?!)

Our first assignment was to cheer the SAG runners from the sidelines. And then we had to change into our jogging outfits to run alongside a very iteresting young lady by the name of Sara. She had lost one of her limbs, a leg, but became an avid jogger utilizing a prosthetic attachment that looked like a curved metal band near the bottom and acted like a spring of sorts to give her an extra bounce as she jogged. She led the pack as we formed a wall of runners behind her while the camera-cart zoomed down the middle of our crowd. But in all the time that we were there, we never saw the Lincoln. Still wondering what the concept of the commercial is!?

A few more takes, and it was -"check the gates"...and "gates are good"... and "it's a wrap"!

Three hours worth of work for $175... and lots of laughs and gigles in between with the other extras. If only I could do this four times a week -like one of my fellow extras does. Alas, for me this was the first gig in 2 weeks. I still haven't mastered the skill of keeping the job-to-job connection work-flow going. It seems the trick is to register with multiple agencies that are getting most of the jobs... but which ones are they? Showbiz is a moving target... and although I got to run today, I still feel like I'm standing still.

I'm JLo's paparazzo at Radio City Music Hall

(Source: Newsday 9/8/2007 - CLICK to enlarge)

Me... and about 49 others -dressed in "tough-to-see-you black"!

This is it... this has to be it. I've reached the epitome of my extra's career. I made it to Radio City Music Hall's stage in front of a live audience at a Rock Concert given for the glammy Fashion Industry! Whooo Hooooo!!!

We rehearsed on Tuesday, taped it on Thursday -and it's airing on CBS tonight! Now that's what I'm talkin' about -or will be talking about for eons to come.

It all started on Tuesday, when I got a last-minute email from my agent to go to a Jennifer Lopez gig at RCMH and to be a paparazzo. I immediately called my agent and we commiserated on how difficult it would be for me to get there for a 7:PM call time, and we hung up. But I just didn't want to let this one go... so I checked the LIRR schedule and figured that if I could catch a taxi as soon as I got into the city, I just might make it! So I called her back and she was encouragingly enthusiastic -giving me the "GO AHEAD! I'll submit your number to them so they'll expect you..."

CLICK! Whoooooooosh!!!

I was out the door and made the train in 5 minutes; 40 minutes later I rushed out of Penn Station and into a NYC cab (complete with a turbaned driver). It was the eve of a pending taxi strike but the driver was efficient and got me to 51st and 6th Ave in 10 minutes (that earned him $1/minute) -it was well worth it. I got to the check-in desk where they gave me an official "paparazzi" sticker and I was now part of this gig!


Entering the great hall with a different "air" than the usual concert-goer was exhilarating. After all, I was now someone on the "inside"... a participant, rather than an observer. We were seated on the left side of the audience seats and told to fill out a bunch of release and tax forms by our handler, Brooke. Later we were corralled up by our stage manager, Seth, who explained that he would be taking us up to the stage and handing us over to AJ, our choreographer... in about an hour or so. We didn't care how long it would take because Martina McBride was doing her number on stage and she was terrific. Wearing beige pants and a black top (slight hint of shiny leather on the shoulder area), she's about 5 foot tall but a great looking lady (having a Jane Russell-type of edge to her) with a powerful voice. We clapped spontaneously every time she sang. And then it was our turn to mount the stage.

Seth took us up on stage-right and we were promptly organized into size places by AJ. He divided us up into two groups and took us over to a metal podium of steps with a red carpet down it's middle. We were given cameras with flashes and lined up along the sides of the steps with orders to "shoot-on-sight". Needless to say, we shot each other up until we could see nothing but bright balls of light in our fields of vision. So that when JLo appeared at the top of the steps, we could only squint at her figure until our eyes returned to normal in the dark theater.

JLo was very friendly... said "Hello everyone....!" with a big smile, and then it was down to business. The dance steps had to be worked out by her entourage of dancers and we had to coordinate our movements with hers as she descended and ascended the steps -all the while snapping away with veracious zeal. AJ quickly corrected our enthusiasm: we would need to "freeze" ourselves whenever JLo and her dancers "froze"... and resume our activity when they renewed theirs as the number progressed along. So there we had it... clear instructions that would meld into chaos when the actual taping occurred... but it was o.k. -the number got rave reviews from the critics as a "high-concept". Some of the other performers didn't fare well with the critics -but I thought all the performers were really good, giving their best for the show.

Steven Tyler was the first to rehearse on Thursday -taping day! Unfortunately he wanted a "closed set" and that meant everyone had to leave the auditorium... even Seth and other Radio City Music Hall employees. Dang... here we were hoping to see everyone rehearse and we were all being kicked out... there goes the whole perk of this deal -or so we thought.

We were taken to the third floor dressing rooms. There were rows and rows of dressing room mirrors with the appropriate peripheral bulbs; we were seated next to each other, partitioning curtains flowing on either side of the narrow aisle. We dutifully took our respective seats and chatted... for about 5 minutes. There was no way that we were going to be sitting here for the next 9 hours!!! Most of us "snuck" out into the stairwell and into the black-background of backstage and whatever was going on there. It was just like in the movies where you have pretty dancing girls shimmying past you, costumed performers warming up, Tyra Banks decked out with a cell-phone constantly in her ears (we almost shared a ride up the elevator with her, but she just couldn't make up her mind weather to risk the disconnection from her cell phone -so she turned down the ride). After trying all the doors, me and another guy found ourselves on the side street... with "the red carpet" in front of us.

It was being set up for the decked-out glitterati who would be arriving as we chatted on. Hunger pangs overtook my friend and I accompanied him to a pizza shop down the block. Later, when we got back to the dressing room area to see if anything was happening and we saw 5 pizza boxes stuffed into the garbage. This was our "dinner", as promised by our stage manager. Not exactly sumptuous -glad I missed out on it. I preferred noshing on the veggie platter and the potato chips. We were told to stay put because the show was going to start in an hour... so this time, a bunch of us decided to go exploring the audience area. Two of the guys went up front and checked out the placards with the famous guests' pictures on it, depicting where they would be sitting. A young guy, dressed in a suit with a folder under his arms began chatting with them. I wasn't going to miss out on this and decided to brave going up front with the thought in mind that this guy was someone famous!?

As it turned out, he began to befriend us with small talk and then dropped an interesting offer:

"I'll give you guys $100 for your passes... how about it. You won't need them anymore...you're all inside. I just want to get a few of my friends in here... come on....how about it?"

Silence.

"How about $200... I'll give you $200 right now!!! But the offer is only good now... the closer we get to show time, the less they're worth..."

One of the guys took the deal immediately. He waited for the higher number -and got it. The other one was deep in thought... teeter-tottering in his decision... what should he do?

The pimpy-guy now offered to give his pass back after the show... and that seemed to have sweetened the pot enough to make him caved in.

He gave up on me... primarily because I had mentioned that I worked on a movie with DeCaprio and Winslet in our pre-offer conversations. When he offered me the money I told him I wanted the badge as a "trophy". But his impression of me became something like: "Ahhh! He's rich...he doesn't need the money... he works with big stars!!!"

How easy it is to become corrupted in this industry... it doesn't take much... a little dangle of money...some empty promises...and before you know it... you can lose yourself in the fantasy.

The show started, and we paparazzi decided to stay in the audience seats until it was getting close to our set. And it was the right choice... we saw all the glammy people begin to filter in...beautifully dressed sexy women, fancy duds on the dudes, and plenty of famous designers populated the halls at this spectacular mix of fashion and rock stars.

Steven Tyler and Arrowsmith started the show! YEssssss. We may have missed the rehearsals but now here we were in the audience, watching the "real performance"... the one that would be taped and shown on CBS-TV the following night. Everyone of the stars were fantastic... Fergie, Alicia Keyes, Usher, Mary J. Blige, Maroon 5, Jennifer Hudson, Joe Perry, Carry Underwood and Lindsay Buckingham, Miri Bar-Lev, Martina McBride, Avril Lavigne... AVRIL LAVIGNE!!!

Oh...oh...we had to scatter back into our area to get prepared for our paparazzi number with Jennifer Lopez!!! And suddenly, about 50 shadows popped up from the darkened audience to skittle through the music hall's backstage catacombs of stairs and elevators in preparation for our "centerpiece number". We made it just in time...Seth was taking attendance and was ready to dock people's pay if they weren't in place on time!

We were taken backstage. Given our flashy digital SLR cameras and as soon as the previous act completed, we were lined up along the stage in darkness, put into our places next to JLo's steps and braced for the curtain to raise... JLo genuflected!

The curtain went up... and as I turned my head I saw a sky-full of people sitting OUT THERE... wow...WOW -what a feeling! The thought zapped through my head that I was on stage in front of thousands (soon to be millions when it airs tomorrow on TV) and me and the others had to do this RIGHT or...

Oh piffle... I can't be bothered with thoughts like that -I've got a job to do...and do it we did! In fact the number's title was "DO IT WELL"... and the first words were "DO IT...DO IT". So the adrenalin kicked in and we all performed as a group... an amorphous black blob of men and women with twinkly flashes beckoning JLo's attention as she controlled the stage with her song, dancers... and her provocative presence. It was a terrific success -an explosive centerpiece for the Fashion Rocks festival... and the newspaper reviews validated it. WoW... again! I loved it.

After our number, we were told that we could do what ever we wanted to...watch the rest of the show or go home: DUH! Of course we all scrambled back into the audience seats. People were constantly moving back and forth -in and out of their seat, so that it was easy to "trade up" on the vantage point toward the stage. We watched a few more live acts and then it was time for the last number: SANTANA. The man is unbelievable. I remember him from the Woodstock days... a tremendous virtuoso of sound on the electric guitar -he didn't disappoint. Alicia Keyes joined him for the greatest music of the night: Black Magic Woman... This was the only number that people got up for in a standing ovation. Unfortunately that part was edited out from the TV version. In fact, the TV version of this show was not very good "sound-wise". Somehow, TV is unable to transmit the unbelievably good performance that each of these super-artists created on the stage here tonight. The full dimension of SOUND and SIGHT at the live performance was totally missing from the taped televised version. (Although it was still good.)

The evening performance had ended and I got together with my buddies to see if our "shady friend" would follow through with his promise to give us passes to the coveted "AFTERSHOW" that was being held at the Rainbow Room around the corner. Needless to say... he never showed...and of course my friend's pass was never returned either. I bailed early and was glad to have done so. The others waited in hopes of him showing up... Live and learn.

[Epilogue: That's me in the circles... snapping at JLo... and then retreating as she ended the number. I bask in the glory of anonymity!]

Exhibiting my art at MICROCOSM gallery

["There is a paradox between the concept of "not doing" and of something being demanded of us, something that must be done. Normally we feel a need to do and we express this need in art, in accomplishments, or in other important things. These acts of "doing" are the unconscious responses to something being demanded of us -a certain creativity. We need to find out what this demand is about. What is really demanded of us is to take that concept, which is there for a reason, and come closer to its essence." -Michael Conge 1912-1984]

The assignment was to create some form of art on a 12 inch square canvas, in response to the zen queery:

...WHAT IS YOUR ORIGINAL FACE?

It was to be my first ever attempt to be exhibited in a gallery -before I left this earth. You may ask why did I want to do this?

Well... it goes back, way back, to my early days as a child -when I liked to draw a lot. Progressed to my teenage years... when I thought I had "something" and wanted to pursue it... and then

SKREEEEEECH!!!

My parents and my only artist friend at the time, discouraged me (and perhaps rightly so), diverting my life-path toward a more mundane vocation -but my dream never died. I confess, I am the stereotypical case of the wrong-road-taken-syndrome knows as:

"I always wanted to be an artist..."

But in my case it's true -I REALLY DID WANT TO BE AN ARTIST. And so, here I had my chance at an "open call" to "EXHIBIT YOUR ART in MicroCoSM Gallery"! Of course it cost me $25, plus the canvas, plus the travel expense to get to the NYC gallery... but who cared. My dream has been achieved.

DAMAGED lawyers at CIPRIANI's

Both Tedd and Glenn were there in full regalia last night -along with the rest of us penguins. It was a black-tie affair wherein Glenn Close is presenting a prestigious award to a fellow lawyer...

[That's me sitting in the back... and never to be "discovered" -at least not from this show! It was a day's work for 2:43 minutes of this episode. So, approximately 3 minutes of showtime per day means about 2 weeks of work for a 50 minute show. Hmmm....]

Later as she dances with him, Tedd's evil-mogul character cuts in and the two antagonists are now arm in arm to the tune of Harry James' sentimental music. But the cozy scenario quickly deteriorates as Glenn's character provides an effective digg -accusing the high-powered businessman of letting a girl die as she cries after him, "Arthur...Arthur...ARTHUR!!!" But after a number of repeated takes it all sounded like a Broadway book-show.

It was great to see the two actors up close... way up close this time. Ted Danson was standing right in front of me and my "chanteuse partner", asking one of the PA's for his lines... sat down at one of the dinner table chairs and repeated it to himself a few times. After being satisfied with his lines and the blocking, he was in full swing as his confidence kicked in and his acting improved.

Glenn Close kidded around with the dinner-crowd as she stood by a podium ready to deliver a mildly roasted intro for the award-winning lawyer associate. In the beginning she blew her lines (they were kind of tough and jumbled) but eventually she got them out and kidded with us to break the tension... "So a lawyer walked into a bar..." we had to laugh at that one! Then she sang an etherial tune (not a bad voice)... and the scene was eventually completed to the director's satisfaction. Our part was to pay attention - laugh - clap!

This was a completely different Glenn Close than the one I had experieced back in episode #3! There she seemed more focused, stern and disassociated from the crowd. Here she was acting almost like a kid. At one point after the "Arthur...Arthur scene", it was supposed to be "silent" as the two arguing attorneys (are there any other kind?) separate -but Glenn just had to get that Cruella De Vil's "wicked witch laugh" out as Danson is storming off the dance floor -and of course that put the entire crowd into giggle-land. At this point a woman asked me "What was that 'Fatal...something' movie she was in? And I responded by saying, "Fatal Repulsion'.

Couldn't resist that one.

At break time we got 10 minutes to eat... this meant finding the catering truck (which was parked way the heck down the block) and then finding a reasonably ballanced place to eat. I found a fire-pump on which I ballanced one leg and a can of pepsi while juggling a small hero slice and a veggie-wrap. (Oh, the things that hunger and decent-looking food can motivate you to overcome!) While doing my ballancing act... Glenn Close and the award-winning lawyer actor saunter by on the street, walk up to the crafty truck near-by and have a snack with the rest of the SAG people. A few minutes later they are on their way back and I watch them pass in front of me with "blank forward-looking" expressions on both their faces... It was very tempting to wave my hand in front of them to see if they weren't sleep walking. But I'm digressing into fantasy-land here -and it's really neither here nor there how they walk and how they look... they are who they are; for whatever reason that they are. I can only observe without judgement.

The shoot soon ended, an orderly exit was made by all voucher-signed participants as our seven hours of celebrity exposure began to fade in our dressing rooms. Cipriani's fancy coach was back to being a pumpkin again... and we were all left looking for that missing shoe.

VERIZON with Paul Marcarelli and a cast of dozzens

I don't know if he could hear us now... but we were all jibber-jabbing about his fame and monetary success! We, the extras, standing on the green-screened floor hung in there for the $150 session just to be in a Verizon commercial. Wearing the hats, shirts, jackets, tools, etc. that the wardrobe department supplied us with -and we just shwitzed away the time in Silvercup's Studio #5 -while Paul, "the Verizon-guy" held up the latest version of the brand's cell-communicator... (not a word from Paul -just face time to the camera as we stood behind him en mass). As a matter of fact -someone had mentioned that we were supposed to be on Mars!? Oh yeah... even the aliens will be using Verizon soon -just to call Earth.

During breaks I sat across from a young guy who was well prepared to while away the hours in a crowded room (where there were, according to our attractive raven-haired PA, exactly 160 chairs). We played WAR with cards -but then he suggested a rousing game of DOMINOES! I haven't played that since I was a kid, -remembered something about having to match the dots... but that's it. I would have to learn it over again. Luckily the process was quick and we were having some high-felutin' competition over our lunches. Now I'm hooked. (Later, I bought a set in the nearest 99 cent store.)

Michael Imperioli FOR ONE MORE DAY

Dressed as number 11, he swung the bat at his hometown field during the nostalgic 1970's -where he returned to commit suicide. But his mom (Ellyn Burstyn) comes back from the dead to talk him out of it. (And whether he lives or dies makes no difference to us extras...we just wanted to get out of the blazing sun bearing down on us before we had a meltdown in the open bleachers.)

That's the quick and dirty version of this film's plot. The long version dealt with our 6:30 AM to 7:PM stint, spent getting fitted for post-hippy chic. I was given bell-bottomed pants that didn't fit and I had to keep pulling them up until I finally got my hands on a large safety pin and reduced the 44 inch wasteline to a more managable one that could remain escalated around my girth. Afterwards, I was sent to make-up to have "porkchop sideburns" pasted on my cheeks in order to better fit into that period -a period which I lived through in polkadot shirts, tight pants and western boots. Certainly not the pukey mustard-colored tight-fitting terrycloth shirt I was given!

Quite frankly, some of my fellow extras fared a lot better... even with the wigs! I think the wardrobe department had a "Mod Squad" fetish... My friend, Karli Bonne, came out looking like a brunette version of Peggy Lipton.

The made-for-TV movie is an adaptation of Mitch Albom's book -and presented to the boob tube by Oprah Winfrey through the directorial exhuberance of Lloyd Kramer. Once Oprah recommends a book, it becomes a sure-to-make-it-big on the best sellers list. Thereby assuring an audience for this production... most likely to be aired on ABC... TBD!

Michael Imperioli took more guff from some of the more "experienced" cheering section than the non-specific direction given to our cadre of fans had called for (e.g. "What a lousy slice -you bat like a pussy!"). So that when the cheering got a bit ugly, the over-enthusiastic yellers were approached and told to cease the all-too-accurate jeers. After all, we were instructed to make believe that his first hit was a homerun (even if it was a foul). But Michael bore up well and was a real trooper. Such is movie-reality.

We were relocated several times in the bleachers to make the crowd look thick (I had tons of exprinence with this in the CMA Forex commercial a couple of weeks ago). The bleachers, however, had some obstacles in store for us: At one large area they were covered by squashed berries that had fallen from the overhanging tree; at another there was a wasp nest and they were zooming about our heads rather antagonisticly -enough so that a couple of us went running up and down the steps to try to escape their attacks and eventually we had to yell at the assistant director to stop reseating us in this section! Lloyd's bullhorn kept on with "...aaaaand.... ACTION!" They didn't care. The scene had to be completed while there was daylight...

Most of the people were called back to the bleachers after our meager roast-chicken lunch break... I was not among them -and didn't really mind. I had somehow been spared a second grilling from the August summer's hazing sun. I just cozied up to my seat in holding and let the hours pass until wrap time. Outside, a scene with Michael and his "father" would take forever. Something wasn't going right and the extras were kept in perplexity as to the reasons for the delays in the shoot. When the participating extras returned a few hours later, I got different stories from different people. But the gist was that it was a mess... the scene wasn't working. They had us for the past 12 hours -additional time would incur OT... so now it was WRAP time!!! Ah, the rush of stamping feet as they returned their wardrobe and hair-pieces for the exchange of the "ticket to leave", our VOUCHERs... which we now had to get signed. And now the lineup -an occasion to banter among each other while we wait for the PAs to process our IDs and at the same time trying to focus on the availability of the nearest exit door.

I made friends with a couple of people, and one of them quickly economized on it. Angelo asked if I could give him a ride into the city. I told him I could drop him off in Queens and off we went. While enroute to Queens, I learned that Angelo was a dancer persuing acting. He was post-college-age whose favorite dancer was pre-kiddie-Michael Jackson... and now Angelo wanted a career. I knew exactly what he meant -it was time for me to start getting back to mine also. The one in the real world. My phone rang -I got an interview scheduled in the middle of the week with a large firm in midtown NYC. More calls follow with opportunities of large salaries and full benefits and bonuses... etc. Reality beckons and acting strange now presents new challenges in both worlds.

A 2-day Odyssey with HONDA

[ I always find it ironic when there is a NO PARKING sign posted for a CAR commercial!]

The 4:AM call means a 1:AM wakeup ring on my alarm-cell-phone; catching a 1:56 AM Long Island RR train and hoping that the NYC subways are running… and that there are some people around so that you don’t feel like you’re going to be a target for muggers. But NYC has a rhythm all its own –and you really can’t guess it, no matter how street-smart-savvy you think you might be. I’ve done all these musings before, and each time the results were pleasant.
The trains had a bunch of early workers starting out and the streets had groups of couples whose partying had finally taken it’s toll and now it was time to go home and rest (for more partying, no doubt). In this state of mind, I arrived 30 minutes early to the holding area that was at a Presbyterian Church on 55th Street and 5th Avenue.

The food truck was servicing us and I wasted no time in getting the fresh fruit with yogurt as my breakfast of choice for this fine and unusually chilly August-weekend morning. Others began to drift in and I noticed some familiar faces, and some not-too-familiar figures: one in particular was that of an emaciated looking young blond woman. Her face was pretty but her jeaned-up legs were spindly-thin and her arms, although covered with some muscle tissue, had given the impression that she may have been sick and was now coming back to possible health. Her demeanor was reserved and I noticed that one of the PA’s was fawning over her to meet her much-needed caloric-needs. I never actually witnessed her ingesting anything…

After our breakfast snacking, we were ushered into the church and two floors down, where we set up our “base camp” for today.

“Yoo kin put yer fookin’ things doon an’ git fookin’ coomftahble while we fookin’ fill out some fookin’ papers…!”

Derek, our handler, was Scottish and had no problem with telling us what to do and where to go! He was pleasantly serious and gave us a real listening treat with his heavy accent. I impressed him when I found his wallet on the bathroom floor and returned it to him. “You’re an honest mahn…(and after checking the contents to be intact he intoned further kudos)… a very honest mahn!”

Our wardrobes were checked and half of us, 20 or so souls, would be “shoppers” and the other half would be “business” –only 10 would be called back for the 2nd day’s shoot. I was to be a member of the latter group. An hour or so later, we were taken to the set which was in front of Harry Winston’s jewelry store on 5th Avenue. Classy!

Our direction was given and it was explained that we were to be the background-part of a Honda Odyssey car commercial. The commercial, however, would only be shown abroad –most likely Japan and Europe. When we saw the car, we realized why: the driver’s seat was on the right side. Groaaaaaan! Oh well, at least the pay was good.

Then came an entourage of people, in the center of which was a tall statuesque model with Barbie-doll-like spaghetti-thin features. ~~~Tidle-dee-dee, Tidle-dee-dee~~~… I realized that it was the girl I saw a few hours ago by the food truck. She was wearing a classy short chiffon-pleated dress that barely grazed her knees, some shopping bags and tons of makeup over her face that had to be touched-up on a regular basis by the Japanese makeup crew (army). And it was chilly, so that her thin constitution started to shiver… luckily, between takes, the Japanese contingency would bring her a coat to drape around her shoulders. Ultimately she bore up well and kept her composure, always focusing on her “delivery” to the camera. I gained a lot of respect for her very professional attitude.

The streets were wetted down by the water truck and the shoot began. Some of us were told to walk south, others north and Lindsay, the model would remain in place by the curb while doing a Queen Elizabeth-hand-wave in expectation of a pick-up by her oncoming Honda-driving acquaintance. Much of this shoot was done through the inside of the oncoming Honda car… an apparent signature of the director, Sano Yutaka. He had done Honda before, as shown on his production company’s website DAY-O… usually with some NYC landmark clearly seen through the car’s window. I suppose to signify that the right-sided-driver Honda Odyssey “gets around”! Interesting concept…and from what I observed on his website, cleanly depicted in each of the company’s commercial projects. Nothing was “lost in the translation”! He was good.

A small sliver of sunlight began to squeeze through to the concrete jungle’s skyscraper valley that we were now inhabiting. This light was to be used for a special shoot. While they were setting up their equipment, we were given a few minutes for a break. I decided to go into the direct line of the sun’s rays while leaning against the door of one of the fancy storefronts. I closed my eyes and just let the warmth of the sun penetrate. It felt soooo good after the long morning’s chilly weather. Suddenly my reverie was interrupted by a rude uniformed SOB behind the glass door. He was tapping it vigorously with his white-gloved knuckles and giving me some dirty looks to indicate that I should be off-of-there!!! Reluctantly, I complied… I vacated the door and the comfortable spot and receded back into the frigid grey light of inscrutability.

Bantering with the PA’s and the other extras during takes created a friendly networking atmosphere that allowed us to exchange headshots and contact references in hopes of a new gig. I had met two of the women here on another set and we commiserated on past experiences. One of them, who also worked on Adam Sandler’s “Zohan” set had the same disenchanted rotten experience that I did –and we both swore never to see that movie! The other woman was the UMAS waitress from the “Damages” restaurant set we filmed at DUMBO. Once we recognized each other we instantly resumed our “sentient” subjected conversation.

The time was rolling around to 10:AM and the stores were starting to open up… this was the desired cut-off time and pretty soon the “gates were checked” –and we were dismissed. My trip home was a lot less apprehensive, even though I was going against the flow of the incoming Saturday morning crowd. It was nice to be home before noon.

Day 2’s call time was a half hour later: 4:30 AM –big whoopy! But since it was an early Sunday morning call, I decided to drive to our new location –the Flat Iron District: 17th Street and 5th Avenue. This was my wife’s and my old workplace neighborhood in the mid-1970’s. A time when we would go to lunch together in the nearby park –so it brought back some romantic memories. My romanticism, however was quickly ended when I learned that Lindsay, the Barbie-doll model, would not be here today. Today’s shoot would only involve “the car”. Bummer!
The 10 special extras, which WE were –had to be posted effectively for the shoot since the streets were lacking human forms that would otherwise fill in the void of NYC’s sleeping Sunday population. The water truck did its special shpritzing for the slick photographic effect and we watched it go by from a safe (and dry) distance a dozen times or so. Everyone’s energy level was low…you could sense it…we were all sleepy and it showed in our lack of enthusiasm. But that didn’t matter –the takes went on endlessly as the Honda and the camera crew circled the blocks over and over again. Between takes, the only drama we could get involved in was that of a hopping baby sparrow which had fallen from its nest and the ensuing frantic prods of the sparrow family to get the baby flying. In its efforts to escape the pedestrian onslaught, the baby sparrow kept coming perilously closer to the certain doom awaiting it in the ceaseless traffic of 5th Avenue. My “sentient” friend kept blocking the baby sparrow’s path off the curb, hence saving it from the inevitable. But this could only last between takes and once we wrapped up, the fledgling would be left to fend for itself. We, special extras, after all, had to go sign out and get home to our beds for some much needed rest, so that we could continue to remain “sentient”.

On a COLLEGE ROAD TRIP with Martin, Raven and Vinny

My agent must have gotten inspired by the title of this movie because the "coordination bug" really bit her for this gig. She arranged for groups of people to travel together in car-pools to Oakville, Connecticut. The movie company couldn't get any locals so we would be given the "coveted WAIVER" if we showed up. And it would have been pulled off flawlessly had it not been for THE STORM FROM HELL!!!

I was paired up with Pete as the driver, who lived in the next town over from me. We agreed to meet at 6:15 AM for the 9:15 AM call time. Sounded pretty fair... planning 3 hours for a 2 hour drive... yet our plans still went awry (or AW-REE, as my wife likes to pronounce it).
When I arrived at Pete's house, it was a gentle rain that drizzled upon my bare noggin as I switched to his car. A short wait and Pete was ready to pick up another passanger in nearby Inwood. But as we began to get on the main roads the sky opened up and the rain was now pouring down making visibility almost non-existent as Pete answered his cell phone. It was our agent... "Could you pick up one more passanger in Astoria???"... The rain was now a deluge as we turned onto the highway, Pete fiddling with the phone and the car swirving a bit here and there as his attention was being distracted at the thought of having to go out of our way.

The water on the highway was now at curb level as Pete "calmly" explained the delaying situation to our persistent agent, and eventually she relented so that we could continue on our way to pick up our scheduled 3rd passanger nearby. It was still dark and the oncoming storm made it even darker as we searched for the house number. After a few missed turns we found it and Pete, still dressed in his shorts and T-shirt, got out with an umbrella to help Donna into the car. It was a 2 door sports car so that negotiating the narrow door-space in the torrential rain delayed her entry and prolonged Pete's unscheduled soaking -his large stature requiring that the driver's seat be readjusted after Donna's ingress, thereby extending his exposure to the elements. The unbrella was useless now. The storm was raging, lightning, thunder and tremendously wild winds were the fare for the next hour or so. The radio was warning abut possible TORNADOS right in the area where we were traveling -the south shore of Long Island!!! (Later we learned that an official tornado, with strength EF-2, did touch down in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn at 6:30 AM... uprooting treets, roofs, CARS, etc.).

But who cared. We wanted those WAIVERS! Donna had one already but Pete and I were going for our first one. Three waivers will get you into SAG... which meant we would earn SAG money (almost twice the usual amount as for non-SAG extras). And we were going to show up for this gig -no matter what kind of weather slowed us down. But slow us, it did. We arrived at 11:15 AM... 5 hours driving and 2 hours late.

Luckily, they were understanding and the PA's treated us with consolation... we wouldn't be penalized for the "tardyness". Our arrival time would still show as 9:15 AM. Thak you PA's!

At noon we were called to set at the TAFT school. It was a pretty large, well manicured campus for a boarding school. A nice place to simulate a "college atmosphere". On the set there were "toga party" type pledges scattered all over the area. We, the older looking types, were to be "faculty". But for now, the faculty types were told to wait by a tree while Martin Lawrence and Raven, dressed in red gym clothes were screeching a golf-cart to the school's entrance... TG far away from us. Vincent Pastore also has a role in this movie -but he wasn't around. The scene was repeated for a long time... we were never called to be on camera and told to return to holding.

As it turned out, the production of that scene was running way too long and we, "the faculty", would not be used today. The announcement was "Call your agent to see if you will be needed tomorrow?!" We didn't care... we all had plans anyway. But as it turned out we were finished... not used for the scene... and we got our coveted waivers.

The trip home... in the calm dawn... was a lot faster.

TAKING CHANCE with Kevin Bacon

A sad story to be played out on HBO, based on the real life of a 19 year old Marine who gave his life in 2004 Iraq, so that his fellow Marines could all survive. His body, as prescribed by the Marines' tradition, is accompanied back home to Dubois, Wyoming to his family -never left alone during the entire trip. Kevin Bacon plays the accompanying Marine... Lt. Col. Michael Strobl.

The director, Ross Katz, got up to the gym's microphone and explained the story to us in heart-wrenching words. It was very emotional and the hundreds of extras listening were all appreciative of the director's efforts to address us in this way.

It was an early morning call to a sleeping New Jersey town's high school gym, but it was also an early afternoon release. One of the quickest sessions I've ever attended. The scene was relatively simple:

• the grieving family enters the gym and walks slowly to their seats


• we stand up in respect


• the high ranking Marine asks us to sit and begins to deliver the intro to the eulogy
  

We had to be sufficiently somber as the multiple cameras did their work while the scene was on...

In between takes however, we were attempting to be jolly... couldn't be helped... The guy next to me had a huge beard and it was his first time as an extra. His innocent questions and my wiseguy responses were a diabolical mix. Add to that the zaftig "reading woman" on my other side whose informational jibes were unexpectedly comical... well, we just needed the boost between the downer takes.

I was in the second row as Kevin Bacon walked around being one of the "funeral goers" and would occasionally get tips from the "real Marine" advisor on the set. His appearance reminded me of his role in "A Few Good Men" as the naval prosecuting attorney: stiff back, crew cut, no-nonsense attitude. And like other actors I've seen for the first time, he was shorter and skinnier than I had imagined from the screen. The only time I noticed him perk up was after one of the "check the gates" calls -he walked by and gave a wink & smile to the girl in front of me, who, I figured was somehow well known by the crew people who kept coming up to her earlier in the shoot session. I didn't recognize her to be one of the actors. Oh well -have to wait for the movie to come out, I guess.

The zaftig woman mentioned that Tom Wopat was playing one of the mourning family members and after looking at his Dukes of Hazard photos, I believed her... although, he was sporting a scroungy beard for this role.

The brown-bagged lunches we eventually received had consisted of a mushy ham and cheese sandwich with an apple and a bag of potato chips... I gave it away to one of the hungry PA's. I just didn't feel like eating anything after the morose atmosphere. I really didn't expect it to affect me this way -so I guess I must have acted pretty good in this one.

Silvercup Studios and "The Arena" commercial

I was alreay familiar with the navigable environs of the confusing "Streets" and "Avenues" criss-crossing this area of Queens, which made my trip relatively shorter from Long Island.
As my car was nearing the studios for my 1:PM call to set, I was also on my cellphone to my friend Massimo -who runs a silkscreening company nearby. I needed some tips on parking possibilities and he gave me some expert guidance on the best (and cheapest) location.
The walk was only 2 blocks up and the guard here was much more informed than my previous day's experience at Kaufman-Astoria Studios (excrucio) that were also in this upcoming neighborhood.


I was given a pass and immediately shown into Studio 3, where Persona Films were preping the green background for the CMS FOREX commercial shoot that I and about 40 others were slated to act in. Max and Shaun were the PA's who were handling us. Their professionalism was exemplary -they were curteous, doting and informed. We were immediately given access to an air-conditioned room, a large cooler filled with water, soda and gatorade... as well as snacks and a large mirror with the traditional stage bulbs attached to its periphery. What a difference from the shlocky "bums-rush" treatment at Kaufman-Astoria Studios.

The makeup lady came in and took us into her area for some "touch ups". As I chatted with her, I realized that it was Paula -she was also part of the makeup crew for "Revoutionary Road", which we both worked on a few weeks ago. My shiny forehead was now completely dull from Paula's makeup pallette and we were ready to go into the studio.

"Don't walk on the green paint!" was the immediate direction from several PAs. Two huge walls were completely painted bright green with some accurately placed "cross-hairs" for later CG-simulation of a Romanesque arena. And then we were guided to a four level fabricated set of bleachers, upon which we were to stand in our dark suits under the HOTTEST STUDIO LIGHTS I've ever experienced. Our young director, Yan Vizenberg spoke with a Russian accent:


"You are agressive stockbrokers in the podium where there are four animated currencies -they are fighting it out. Yell loud and cheer them with thubs-up or thumbs-down... throw paper and talk on your cellphones and crackberries!" The rest of our direction came from his bald-comical-stocky-bearded assistant. "LOOK AT THE RED 'X'... LISTEN FOR THE GONG... LOOK SURPRISED. It was a real directorial show!

[That's me in the circle -although I must have been replicated at different times doing different motions all over the arena!]

The shoot took about 6 hours... Yan and his English-accented partner Helga were constantly conferring abut the specifics as we yelled our heads off for fast-mo, slo-mo, inbetween-mo...no-mo!!!

Shots were positioned from the left, the right...from the back -we were shuffeled constantly... front row shots...then back row shots. And although we were given breaks, our shirts (and underwear) were soaking wet from the exhuberance and the super-hot lights.
At the end we met Max in the lobby, where he doled out our envelopes containing $50. We also learned that the commercial will air only in the industry circles of the financial arena's brokerage houses. What irony... my "real-job" usually takes place in the environs of Merrill Lynch, JP Morgan Chase, BlackRock et al. It would be a real kicker if I landed a job soon and saw myself in this commercial... OY!

Kaufman-Astoria Studios and the "Power Of TEN" game show

Arriving at the Kaufman Astoria Studios parking lot, just across the street from the business entrance, resulted in an immediate argument with the parking lot caretaker. An elderly man wearing blue overalls speaking with an overbearing foreign accent that easily leads to a mish-mosh of misunderstandings for parking instructions. As I pulled up and asked how much it would cost to park here, he gave me a long cocophonous explanation that enventuated on a single phrase of communal understanding: $7.00 -Sounded fair to me.

But as soon as I gave him the money he told me to leave the convenient parking lot and embark upon a search for a movie-house parking area a few blocks away... where I could now park my vehicle on a rooftop area! Huhhhhh?

"Give me back the money -I'll find my own parking spot for free!" I retorted. And I did... right across from the big front entrance to the studio-building that was just around the corner.

After going into the lobby and asking where the "POWER OF 10" extras were to be assembled, the guards behind the security desk knew nothing. Eventually they called a neuromancing PA with a jacked-in secret-service-type of earpiece that was constantly issuing instructions and status updates to her somewhat over-multi-tasked brain. Nonetheless, she was able to point me in the right direction with as little eye-contact that she could afford... "go outside the building and around the OTHER corner! You'll see the others lined up there." Here we go...

Around the corner... there were about a hundred young people waiting to be called in for audience seat-filler gigs. It was a new game show hosted by Drew Cary. But no one was going in... everyone was just mulling about aimlessly. As I found out later, there were 2 groups: people WITH tickets and people who were EXTRAS from varius agencies. Mine was Extra Mile...others were Kaplan...etc. And the reason no one was going in was because they overbooked the number of extras (who would provide seat-filling-talent, should the ticketed population decide on not showing up). But the "ticket holders" were arriving en masse and we extras had to stand around without shelter, drink, food or toilet facilities from 6:30 PM until 10:30 PM before there was a need for us. And then finally one of the PA's announced: "I need 15 people...", and IN we went to the audience area with the show already in progress. Our "act" was to "CHEER Drew and the contestants"!
Oh joy...been there/done that at David Letterman and at Millionaire.

After 20 minutes, the show ended... Drew gave a short and quick bye-bye and went off the stage, high-fiving me as he passed by. What-a-guy! (What a dull gig!)

In the process of waiting around for hours prior to being called into action, I made a few new friends... most of them Italian -one of which bummed a ride off me to Long Beach. I didn't mind. It made me feel more usefull than a hungry, thirsty, piss-filled cheerleader.

Adam Sandler and his messy ZOHAN (whatever that is?)

My agent notified me that it would be a night shoot but that we "wouldn't be working overnight"! YEAH...RIGHT...

When I arrived at holding for the 8:PM weeknight shoot, everyone was shmoozing outside St. Mary's on 46th Street. It was a very humid and hot night that kept us sweating for most of the 9 and a half hours that we were to spend here. Inside the church, there was no air conditioning, no food and no production assistants to check us in. They arrived late and that pretty much set the tone for the night... LATE!

After about 6 hours, I went inside the holding area and just took in the heat for a while. My friend Pat, came over and intoned: "You must be CRAZY, NUTS and someone must have DROPPED YOU ON YOUR HEAD if you're staying in here!" -and gave me a friendly, albeit concerned smile. I was into my Gurdjieffian-fourth-way mental exercise of "CONSCIOUS EFFORT and VOLUNTARY SUFFERING..." (but I could never explain that to him in 25 words or less). So I smiled back. Suddenly an announcement was made and we were taken to Times Square and set up on the super-busy post-midnight sidewalks as "added pedestrian fodder" for the evening's big "limo-scene" (oh... a pun). The white stretch-limo was driven by a stunt driver with an Adam Sandler-standin (for safety, no doubt) sitting next to him as the vehicle careened up Broadway opposite the one-way traffic flow -zigzaging past all the oncoming cars. I have to say that the driver was excellent because he had to repeat the scene several times with the hairline-crash-misses intact. Bravo!

Unfortunately, with all the stars in this movie, we never got to see ANY of them. Not Adam Sandler, not Rob Schneider, not Mariah Carey, not Henry Winkler, not Talia Shire... nada, nookoo, nyitzky-nyitzky, swah, zipo stars on this set!!! So it was very disheartening to go through all the hot weather and lack of food, and standing for long periods of times without rest, etc... without the "reward" of seeing one of the principal characters. About the only thing we were given was water bottles and left-over cookies, potato chips and lolly pops... and the only "star" we saw up close was the limo-driver being made up with a wig and a hat! Oh well, chalk this one up to yet another Gurdjeffian exercise: MAKING SUPER EFFORTS!!!

The gates were checked and we were sent home at 5:30 AM... the sun was begining to rise. And as we extras commiserated on our way out, we vowed NEVER to do night-shoots again! It just wasn't worth it for $7.50 per hour. Some of us even vowed NEVER TO SEE THIS MOVIE!

DiCaprio,Winslet & Mendes on a Revolutionary Road

The dream team! I wish I could have kept dreaming but... I had to self-report to the set of Revolutionary Road in Fairfield, Connecticut at 5:30 AM. We, background extras, all needed to get a 1950's haircut and this crew didn't like to waste any time. We had to eat our sumptuous breakfasts while filling out our I-9 forms, obtaining our fitted wardrobes (bathing suits)... and board the bus to the nearby beach: Sasco Beach. A Long Island Sound beach with rough sand and plenty of rocks to walk bearfoot upon. Luckily, the weather was cool and cloudy, so that my "bare bodkin" was somewhat spared by the summer's usual tempermental elements.

My placement was relatively near the principal charachters so that I was able to observe them up close as they went through their thespian routines as well as their personal ideosynchracies.
DiCaprio likes to bite his nails and often uses a toothpick. Kate Winslet likes to keep her hands on her hips and maintains a serious attitude. Both are excellent actors and deliver their lines with the appropriate accurate physical accompaniments (happy-sad-mad) -as the scene calls for it. And the scene called for a lot of "it"... especially from the director and husband of Kate, Sam Mendes.

Mendes is a very meticulous director. He doesn't like to let go of a scene easily. So there were a lot of retakes... in fact we started to call his style "The Groundhog Day" style...named after the repetition-themed Bill Murray movie. Over and over the takes were requested and delivered, until eventulally Sam was satisfied and shook his wife's hand! How nice...romance and gratification. What a team!