Well it is February and the sun has come out full force. Sad as I am to be missing the big party in Vancouver, I can't help gloat about the stellar weather here. There is no Olympic fever here, that's for sure. Lot of folks aren't even aware it's going on, let alone sure where Vancouver is located. "That's in Canada isn't it? Near that french place - Quebec?" I know this because I quiz the workers at the stores and coffee shops all the time. In the papers, the stories have mainly been about the security risks and the luge tragedy and how much NBC is losing by broadcasting the games.
Yes, Ben is in the building. We have got if from a reliable neighbour that the Sir indeed lives here. We know which apartment. We know his parking space, which up until recently has been empty. Then a car appeared in it, right in sinc with the release of "Shutter Island". We see his Prius everyday, sometimes in its spot, sometimes not. Sometimes he parks rear to front, sometimes front to rear. Still, we have not run into Ben. Only a matter of time though. I am just so afraid of mumbling something unintelligible and ruining my chances of becoming his new buddy.
We have begun the open mic circuit and wow- let me tell you Vancouver, you guys should be very, very proud of your talent. These open mics are more like circus shows - weird talent and even weirder rooms. The dingy Kabbitz room is a cavern like watering hole stuck beside a Jewish deli. It's a dive but they are famous for giving triple drinks for only five bucks. Another, the Rainbow Room has a big pit below and a small opening that looks up to the main floor. So you have to kind of bend your neck to see the musicians. The wanna be stand up comics, come up closer - which is too close for comfort usually. Upstairs there's a dark loft where the Rolling Stones and other rock and roll hall of famers once did drugs and other nasty things - according to Joey the door guy, who's been there for 25 years and seen it all. Maybe rock and roll will never die but it looks like it's about 90 years old up on the inglorious sunset strip.
We went there to observe an open mic night and decided it was low key enough for us to do our first appearance there the following week. Monday came and we were determined to go, even though I had a cold. Knew we had to break the ice. With good friend Richard visiting from Vancouver, we trudged up the hill to Sunset, Gibson in hand, walking past all the grungy clubs, some you may have heard of: "The Viper Room", "Whiskey a Go Go" - and on to the Rainbow where we suffered, and I mean really suffered through two hours of mostly awful entertainment. When it was finally our turn, there were only a handful of drunk regulars there. There was almost no response from them. J sang a very solid "Mistaken" and I played - I don't know why - "I Want to Be the Pope" and "Fall Girl". We left right after, feeling good that we'd given it our all and had one under our belt.
Next day, while waiting to go into the "Backdraft" set at Universal Studios Theme Park, Judith got a call. The promoter from the Rainbow wanted to know if we would play a show at one of their venues! LA weird.
Thursday at Barbara Deutch - entertainment coach: I have to sell myself more. Tell people about my accomplishments. I am not just another wanabee and people here are impressed by anyone who has gotten beyond the dream to something remotely tangible. So okay, I will brag more. Even though it makes me feel really, really uncomfortable. So Canadian, I know..
Celebrity sightings: Well poor Richard, here for a week and by his last day he still hadn't seen one celeb. We were on our way home from Santa Monica, stopped at a light when Richard, from the back seat says: "Isn't that Swartzenager?"I looked to the black Van next to us and sure enough, Arnold is sitting in the passenger seat, his head lowered, deep in gubernatorial thought. Couldn't bare to honk the horn and wave. Seeing Arnold in a real moment was enough of a thrill. Good score Richard!
Something I have learned: There is a local mental disease they call Hollywood NOS or "HOS". This is a made up designation based on the non specified disorder NOS from the DSM IV - the manual psychiatrists use to diagnose mental illnesses. People with HOS are obsessed with "making it" or becoming a celebrity or rubbing shoulders with celebrities or in any way climbing the various ladders of power in the entertainment biz. These people are either actively in their addiction or recovering from it. Those inside it work tirelessly, sleep little, party way too hard and only speak to people who are "useful" or "somebody" who can help them become more famous or powerful in Hollywood. Of course it's all an illusion and there is no end game for these poor saps who's world eventually comes crashing down. Most of them end up becoming alcoholics or drug addicts or if they are lucky, in rehab.
So just a friendly reminder to myself: If you play the game, don't forget it's just a game.
I think that will be it for now. Campbell is coming back for a week so there should be more funny stuff on the way. This weekend I participate in my first LA Mastery workshop and get to watch founder Dan Fauci do his thing while J goes to Marianne Williamson's "Sister Giant" seminar with 500 other women hell bent on changing themselves and child poverty. Man - are we going to be powerful by the end of the weekend. Look out LA!
Monday, February 22, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
How to Make it in LA in 6 months in 10 Easy Steps...
1. I actually have no idea.
2. Be bold?
3. Be ruthless.
4. Meet people!
5. Connect with people: anyone, especially limo drivers.
6. Crash parties.
7. Be at the right place at the right time.
8. Get lucky?
9. Cry a lot.
10.I really have no idea. Nobody does.
Thank god for our cats. For while we struggle and toil to make it here, they go about their business of sleeping and cuddling with no thoughts of fame, fortune or even creative fulfillment. Long as J and I are around, they are content. And the sun helps.
I am exaggerating, we are not struggling, we are actually going about our own business of working on our respective creative endeavors, working out, going to classes and drop ins, getting manicures...
Manicures - now that's something to talk about. Campbell, before he left, showed up with the nicest, cleanest fingernails you have ever seen on a guy. He was all smiles - "Only fifteen bucks" He encouraged me to get one too and I said no, so he put $20 in my hand and sent me down to the Vietnamese family run business on Santa Monica. Of course, J wasn't going to let me get a manicure without her getting one too.
A lovely young lady got me settled while a handsome young lad took care of J. Suddenly the girl was gone and replaced by a rather abrasive, ugly young flamer. Now I dont know about you guys, but if I am going to take the big step to metro by getting my nails done, I don't want a guy doing them, gay or not. I asked for the girl to come back and thankfully they obliged. Luckily her English was terrible so I could just sit back and enjoy the delight of being pampered. Unfortunately, she didn't understand me when I said "No polish". She meant that to be "Polish". Anyway, the three of us went to the Coffee Bean and admired each others' glossy nails. Another day in West Hollywood.
Before I forget, more star sightings! J is for sure winning with a major sighting of Neve Campbell in a local eatery although C had numerous sightings of obscure actors from the TV present and past. I had the misfortune of seeing Andy Dick once again. C and I were thrilled to meet and be in the lovely home of Donna Mills, star of Knots Landing. We also met Fisher Stevens (actor who once dated Michelle Pfeiffer) who has an academy award nom for a major doc this year about the dolphin trade in Japan. Then there was Francis Fisher (wife of Clint) who J & I spotted at a Marianne Williamson lecture. Oh, and Marianne herself of course.
Marianne authored "A Return to Love" and is one of our heroes. She just happens to be back in LA after 12 years and wants to give back to the community - so she gives pay what you can lectures every Tues night at a theater about 5 minutes from here. Frustrated as one can get in the rat race called Hollywood, one is reminded of the truly important things on these Tuesdays - to meditate, stay close to your source, to love and remember who we really are and why we are really here. Much as my ego keeps telling me it is to make the next Seinfeld, it is really just to spread the love, baby.
Patrick brought his "Actor", the SAG award he got for Glee to class last Wednesday and jeez is that thing heavy! That boy is proud and so he should be. We had a great talk about the biz at Cat and Fiddle on Thursday and it made me want to go for it even more. Just gotta get that visa. Good news is that my new hotshot New York lawyer thinks I have a good shot at it. Bring on the paperwork!
J and I had our first drop in with Barbara Deutsch, renowned entertainment biz coach. Good kick in the ass. Thanks to a contact there, J now has an audition for the most happening music cabaret in LA! My task was to go to Samual French and research managers and agents. Holy crap - do not, I repeat, do not go to this bookstore with your wallet if you are an actor, filmmaker, director, producer, musician, film buff, etc, etc. The temptation is too great and you will leave broke (but armed with all the imperative info you need to make it and make it big!) I have never seen the volume or variety of such books in my life. Wow. I could easily have left there with the entire Hollywood Creative Directory and thirty other great titles - but I resisted. I will have to rely on my slowly but surely expanding circle of contacts.
Had a few "meetings" this week. Most notable was the one with my cousin's attorney. I was to meet them at a bar on Melrose but when I got there, cop cars were blocking off the entire strip and red lights were flashing everywhere. They wouldn't tell me what was happening and they wouldn't let me on the street so I went down a back alley and convinced the Mexican cooks to let me go through the kitchen. About five minutes in, the music stopped and the manager announced that we must all evacuate. There was a car on the street with a suspected bomb. Rather than panic, my cous's lawywer insisted they get their burgers, for which they'd been waiting a very long time for. Everyone left while we waited for the cook to pack 'em up to go.
Burgers in hand, we left and there was a great buzz on the street. Everyone was talking to each other. Several New Yorkers said it reminded them of being in NY again. Someone said actor/musician Jared Leto was doing a screening of a documentary when some guy came in with a suspicious package. The bomb squad was called in. Check out this link.
http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1631430/20100205/30_seconds_to_mars.jhtml
My cousin's attorney's car was parked right on the street beside the suspicious car and he wanted to move it but the cop said no way. "Hey, I know my rights". He started going toward it and all of us had to remind him this wasn't a negotiation for some movie deal - this was the bomb squad and they were not going to let him get his car. Now that's the kind of tenacious attorney I want on my team. In fact, it would just be cool to say I have an "attorney".
"Sorry I flaked out". Apparently this is a legitimate excuse in LA, a reliable source told me. Sometimes you arrange to meet someone and they just don't show up. A few days later you might get a call from them saying "Sorry man, I flaked out.". There is nothing you can do, especially if this is an important contact.
So right now I want to apologize for being rather tardy with the latest installment of this blog. I flaked out man. Sorry.
Okay, so I have a potential attorney now and another friend from Vancouver is trying to set me up with a manager. My Canadian agent tells me no managers are taking on new clients until the economy improves. But apparently you don't need a manager anyway. If you're a great actor, someone will see you. If you have a good script, all you have to do is talk about it and it will eventually make it's way around this town. And someone will option it. But you cannot rest. If you want to make it in LA, you must always be on the ball - for that record exec or agent from William Morris might just be sitting next to you at the Yogurt Stop and you had better have something funny to say and your pitch ready.
Now that the car siren that has been blaring for the past half hour has finally stopped, I will go and wake up J and we will have a breakfast meeting - or maybe just breakfast.
2. Be bold?
3. Be ruthless.
4. Meet people!
5. Connect with people: anyone, especially limo drivers.
6. Crash parties.
7. Be at the right place at the right time.
8. Get lucky?
9. Cry a lot.
10.I really have no idea. Nobody does.
Thank god for our cats. For while we struggle and toil to make it here, they go about their business of sleeping and cuddling with no thoughts of fame, fortune or even creative fulfillment. Long as J and I are around, they are content. And the sun helps.
I am exaggerating, we are not struggling, we are actually going about our own business of working on our respective creative endeavors, working out, going to classes and drop ins, getting manicures...
Manicures - now that's something to talk about. Campbell, before he left, showed up with the nicest, cleanest fingernails you have ever seen on a guy. He was all smiles - "Only fifteen bucks" He encouraged me to get one too and I said no, so he put $20 in my hand and sent me down to the Vietnamese family run business on Santa Monica. Of course, J wasn't going to let me get a manicure without her getting one too.
A lovely young lady got me settled while a handsome young lad took care of J. Suddenly the girl was gone and replaced by a rather abrasive, ugly young flamer. Now I dont know about you guys, but if I am going to take the big step to metro by getting my nails done, I don't want a guy doing them, gay or not. I asked for the girl to come back and thankfully they obliged. Luckily her English was terrible so I could just sit back and enjoy the delight of being pampered. Unfortunately, she didn't understand me when I said "No polish". She meant that to be "Polish". Anyway, the three of us went to the Coffee Bean and admired each others' glossy nails. Another day in West Hollywood.
Before I forget, more star sightings! J is for sure winning with a major sighting of Neve Campbell in a local eatery although C had numerous sightings of obscure actors from the TV present and past. I had the misfortune of seeing Andy Dick once again. C and I were thrilled to meet and be in the lovely home of Donna Mills, star of Knots Landing. We also met Fisher Stevens (actor who once dated Michelle Pfeiffer) who has an academy award nom for a major doc this year about the dolphin trade in Japan. Then there was Francis Fisher (wife of Clint) who J & I spotted at a Marianne Williamson lecture. Oh, and Marianne herself of course.
Marianne authored "A Return to Love" and is one of our heroes. She just happens to be back in LA after 12 years and wants to give back to the community - so she gives pay what you can lectures every Tues night at a theater about 5 minutes from here. Frustrated as one can get in the rat race called Hollywood, one is reminded of the truly important things on these Tuesdays - to meditate, stay close to your source, to love and remember who we really are and why we are really here. Much as my ego keeps telling me it is to make the next Seinfeld, it is really just to spread the love, baby.
Patrick brought his "Actor", the SAG award he got for Glee to class last Wednesday and jeez is that thing heavy! That boy is proud and so he should be. We had a great talk about the biz at Cat and Fiddle on Thursday and it made me want to go for it even more. Just gotta get that visa. Good news is that my new hotshot New York lawyer thinks I have a good shot at it. Bring on the paperwork!
J and I had our first drop in with Barbara Deutsch, renowned entertainment biz coach. Good kick in the ass. Thanks to a contact there, J now has an audition for the most happening music cabaret in LA! My task was to go to Samual French and research managers and agents. Holy crap - do not, I repeat, do not go to this bookstore with your wallet if you are an actor, filmmaker, director, producer, musician, film buff, etc, etc. The temptation is too great and you will leave broke (but armed with all the imperative info you need to make it and make it big!) I have never seen the volume or variety of such books in my life. Wow. I could easily have left there with the entire Hollywood Creative Directory and thirty other great titles - but I resisted. I will have to rely on my slowly but surely expanding circle of contacts.
Had a few "meetings" this week. Most notable was the one with my cousin's attorney. I was to meet them at a bar on Melrose but when I got there, cop cars were blocking off the entire strip and red lights were flashing everywhere. They wouldn't tell me what was happening and they wouldn't let me on the street so I went down a back alley and convinced the Mexican cooks to let me go through the kitchen. About five minutes in, the music stopped and the manager announced that we must all evacuate. There was a car on the street with a suspected bomb. Rather than panic, my cous's lawywer insisted they get their burgers, for which they'd been waiting a very long time for. Everyone left while we waited for the cook to pack 'em up to go.
Burgers in hand, we left and there was a great buzz on the street. Everyone was talking to each other. Several New Yorkers said it reminded them of being in NY again. Someone said actor/musician Jared Leto was doing a screening of a documentary when some guy came in with a suspicious package. The bomb squad was called in. Check out this link.
http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1631430/20100205/30_seconds_to_mars.jhtml
My cousin's attorney's car was parked right on the street beside the suspicious car and he wanted to move it but the cop said no way. "Hey, I know my rights". He started going toward it and all of us had to remind him this wasn't a negotiation for some movie deal - this was the bomb squad and they were not going to let him get his car. Now that's the kind of tenacious attorney I want on my team. In fact, it would just be cool to say I have an "attorney".
"Sorry I flaked out". Apparently this is a legitimate excuse in LA, a reliable source told me. Sometimes you arrange to meet someone and they just don't show up. A few days later you might get a call from them saying "Sorry man, I flaked out.". There is nothing you can do, especially if this is an important contact.
So right now I want to apologize for being rather tardy with the latest installment of this blog. I flaked out man. Sorry.
Okay, so I have a potential attorney now and another friend from Vancouver is trying to set me up with a manager. My Canadian agent tells me no managers are taking on new clients until the economy improves. But apparently you don't need a manager anyway. If you're a great actor, someone will see you. If you have a good script, all you have to do is talk about it and it will eventually make it's way around this town. And someone will option it. But you cannot rest. If you want to make it in LA, you must always be on the ball - for that record exec or agent from William Morris might just be sitting next to you at the Yogurt Stop and you had better have something funny to say and your pitch ready.
Now that the car siren that has been blaring for the past half hour has finally stopped, I will go and wake up J and we will have a breakfast meeting - or maybe just breakfast.
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