Being Humbled

Last night I had the pleasure of babysitting my niece, the world-famous Valencia Placencia. We had a blast. She's four years old and an amazingly well-behaved kid. Or at least she was last night. Before my brother left for his football game he got down on one knee and looked Valencia in the eye and said "You listen to Uncle Eddie and do what he says, OK?"* I was glad Ray gave her that instruction as I intended to make her vacuum out my car and fix me waffles.

I had just come from work and was still speckled with paint but our adventures began nonetheless. We ran down to the outskirts of Ft Wayne to go to the paint store and pick up some wallpaper. Whilst there we looked at a wallpaper book featuring Disney characters. From there we zipped back down to Auburn so I could swing by the house and get a change of clothes and then stop by the bank so I could get some money for the night's festivities. We saw my Aunt Mary, who works at the bank, and Valencia became a little shy as she talked to her on the bank's drive-thru intercom.

We then went back to V's home so she could get in a nap and I could get cleaned up while she snoozed. We got home about 4:30 and Ray had instructed me not to let her sleep past 5:30. V woke up a little after 5 and we were soon on our way to the mall in Ft Wayne.

We went in the entrance near the Red Robin restuarant and they had a costumed character of, well, a red robin hanging around inside so we went in so V could shake his hand. We then made our way into the main mall, where V advised me not to walk on the diamond-shaped pieces of tile on the floor. Just because.

We stopped at a bookstore so she could look at the Clifford books that were on display and then made our way to the Disney store where I was informed what Santa needed to get her and also what I needed to get her.

The next stop was Toys R Us and while there the store clerk told me how well-behaved V was. Since Ray and Piper weren't there to accept the compliment I took it for them. A Spongebob Squarepants costumed character showed up after a bit and I felt bad for the person inside the costume. V was the only kid in the store and she was more preoccupied with the Mr Microphone and the battery-operated stuffed pig that walks around on its own. I cheered for V to myself.

After 20 minutes we moved on to the huge two-story carousel in the mall where V was happy to ride the giraffe, even though it didn't go up and down. The carousel is in the middle of the food court and the Chick-Fil-A cow character was walking around. It was definitely the Night Of The Living Costume Characters.

Our next stop was Claire's, where I let V buy anything of her choosing. She opted for a keyring that had a little plastic bird on it. And when you squeezed the bird, sticky brown poop came out (although we aren't allowed to say "poop." You call them "stinkies').

Next up was The Princess Store which we kind of sped through. It was a little too pink and fluffy for me.

As we left the mall we stopped in to grab a bite to eat at the Red Robin. The Bird Guy was gone but V at least got a balloon. We bundled back up and raced out to the car and from there we went to V's favorite store: Wal-Mart.

We looked at all the toys and walked through the Halloween aisle where she nervously laughed at all of the motion-activated talking skulls. As we left the aisle she confessed she was a little scared in the Halloween aisle. I told her it was just plastic with batteries that was acting silly and she agreed that the plastic was indeed silly.

We got her home at 9:00 on the dot. As we pulled in to her house she said, "I had fun today, Eddie" and it gave me the proverbial warm fuzzy feeling.

"I did too, V," I told her and then followed up with, "What was your favorite thing you did?"

She thought about it for no more than 2 seconds and said simply, "My nap."

Stinkies.



*(Yes, for those of you who didn't know, back home in Indiana I am known as "Eddie." So shut up.)

Cut Me, Mick

I've found the difference between improv and stand-up is kind of like the difference between soccer and boxing. In soccer, like improv, you have a team backing you up. If you get the ball and feel yourself start to bobble there's usually a teammate there to back you up and you can pass it off to them and hopefully they'll be able to do something with it. In boxing, like stand-up, it's just you out there on your own and if you get the crap beat out of you then you get the crap beat out of you. You can train all you want but you never really know if you're ready to fight until you step into the ring.

On Thursday November 9 I'll be stepping into the figurative ring again. It's open mic night at Snickerz Comedy Bar in Ft Wayne and I have secured one of only 3 slots. I'm stoked to get back up there.

I like the way they do things at Snickerz. I'm actually surprised more clubs don't do it this way. At every other club I've been to, open mic night is open mic night. Come one, come all, step in line and take your turn at trying to get people to laugh for your 3-5 minutes. Unfortunately because it's amateur night most of the time the only other people in attendance at open mic night is the mass of other comics wanting to get up on stage. And sometimes that mass is only 10 people. Needless to say, it's usually a pretty rough crowd.

Here in Ft Wayne they take a different approach. Instead of bringing on any and everyone who shows up, they only let three people go. Those 3 people serve as opening comics for the main comics/headliners, who also appear that night. Because it's not strictly an open mic night, you tend to get a close-to-full house of people ready to laugh as an audience. So not too shabby.

I was trying to get an October slot at Snickerz and when I called in late September they told me to call back in October. Since the first of the month I've been playing phone tag back and forth and today got a message informing me the next available slot is November 9. I'll take it. No complaints.

I'd like to get back there as often as possible while I'm around to get some solid material to bring with me when I return to NYC (yes, I do plan on returning to the Big Apple) so I can hit the comedy clubs running (as well as return to improv at the beloved National Comedy Theatre).

So, if you're in the Ft Wayne area on the 9th of November, stop by. I'm sure I'll post something else as the date nears so keep your eyes peeled for more self-promoting blogs and bulletins.

That's just the way I roll.

How excited am I for the "Lost" premiere??

Gibbidy hoober gaminer typhiners cherbitty gerzin smertifying

...But I Can See How You'd Confuse The Two

This week Dad and I are doing some work for a friend of his. She owns a two-story house that she bought with the intention of fixing up and re-selling for a nifty profit. She hired us at the beginning of the summer to do a little work, claiming her ASSISTANT would be doing the rest. Fast forward a few months when Dad and I are back, trying to fix the goofs all over the house brought on by THE ASSISTANT who claimed she "knew what she was doing."

She didn't. Just because you watch a marathon of HGTV on Saturday doesn't necessarily mean you can run out and do the exact same thing on Monday.

This morning Dad was on the roof painting and I was on the porch. THE ASSISTANT was inside doing the only thing we would let her do in the house: Clean heating vent covers. I have banned her from touching another paint brush, roller, hammer, screwdriver, spackling knife, or drywall compound.

Dad finished what he was painting on the roof and tossed one of the dropcloths from the roof onto the ground before climbing down himself. A few minutes later THE ASSISTANT came out of the house and pointed behind me.

"Is that a tarp?" she asked.

I turned and looked where she was pointing and saw the gray square dropcloth in the yard. "Yeah. That's a tarp."

"Oh. I thought your dad fell off the roof." She began to laugh and giggle annoyingly. I think she was trying to be cute and/or charming, but she had all the style and finesse of a rusty bedspring one might find in an alley behind an abandoned army surplus store.

"Yeah that's not my dad. It's a tarp."

Let me just say, I can understand if you see something fly past the window out of the corner of your eye how you might think Dad fell off the roof. But to wait a few minutes, come outside, and then point at the tarp and try to differentiate between the two...well...that's just dumbness.

I Hate Your MySpace Page

Your MySpace page is ridiculous. And you know who you are.

You fill your page with so much crap it takes me 36 minutes to load the entire thing (and I have a cable connection). Did you know that in the time it takes your page to fully load 13 kids in Africa died from rickets and the ozone layer got smaller by .96%?

There are so many videos on YouTube that crack you up, you couldn't choose just one (they're all so funny!). So you uploaded 14 of them onto your page that will surely entertain everyone who decides to watch them all.

You feature music from 18 different bands. Conveniently, none of them are bands I have any interest in.

You have a background picture featuring colors that make it impossible to see and navigate my way around. But kudos for the image of a haggard fisherman aboard what I can only assume is a schooner made of cardboard. By moonlight.

You feature 6 different clever and witty little polls that give me even more insight on you that no one really cares about (My personal color; Which character from "The Jeffersons" am I; My mood rainbow; Which lunch meat are you?).

Splashed across the top of your page is "YOU GO GIRL" written in maroon glitter.

When I move my cursor around your page the images blur, or even more amazing, flip horizontally. It's like surfing the web with a hangover except without the trouble of getting drunk first.

You have all this and more on your MySpace page. I know this hurts to hear it, but someone had to say it. I hate your MySpace page, and so do your friends. It's not cute. It's not intriguing. It's not even entertaining. It hurts my eyes. Thank you for the headache and, as of last Tuesday, the epileptic fits.

Robbed

Someone stole my money clip, doggonit.

Last night I went to drop off my rent and decided to drive instead of walk. I stuck my money clip in the little console between the driver and passenger seats and forgot to grab it when I returned. Of course, when I went out to get it this morning, it was gone.

How can I live in cities like LA, Chicago, and New York and never once meet any harm and then come to Auburn Indiana and get ripped off. I hope they tried to use the credit card because the card I had in there was no good. I had $14 cash, my membership card to a video store (I should call to make sure no one tries to rent anything) and Borders, my tip chart, and some other stuff that I guess wasn't too important (except my discount card I bought that gets me 3 cents off every gallon of gas I buy...crap!). The most annoying thing will be replacing my driver's license.

Ugh.

JAVA! - A Short Story

JAVA!

by Ed Placencia

FRIDAY 5:43pm
Hung out with Todd this afternoon. He dropped me off from work and decided to come in for a quick hang. Had some coffee. He told me his coffeemaker was busted and in a grand gesture of generosity I offered him mine. At first he refused but I insisted. I hardly ever use mine and it's a shame because it's one of those nice and nifty silver sleek models. I'm sure it cost a lot but I got it as a gift from my ex-wife's father so what do I care. I know Todd would put it to good use and otherwise it's just kind of going to waste. I told Todd he could pick it up later tonight; give me a chance to clean it up for him. He said he'd stop by around 10:00 after his softball game.

FRIDAY 6:15pm
Found an unopened bag of coffee in the back of the cupboard. Figured I'd give it to Todd as an "enjoy your new coffeemaker" gift. I've had this brand before. It is, for lack of a better word, amazing. He'll be hooked.

FRIDAY 6:45pm
Been thinking about that coffee ever since I found it. I would break into it, but it feels kind of cheesy to give him an already-opened bag of coffee. And if I do bust it open for just one or two cups, then that's just a waste of great coffee. Wish I'd found it a week ago.

FRIDAY 7:20pm
The coffeemaker is all boxed up in its original packaging and the bag of coffee I found is sitting proudly on top of it. Even though it's never been opened I think I can smell it and it's driving me nuts. Pretty sure it's all in my head, though. You can't really smell an unopened, factory-sealed bag of coffee, can you?

FRIDAY 7:25pm
I put the bag of coffee inside one of those huge Ziploc freezer bags to keep the aroma in. I'm sure it's just my mind playing tricks on me, but it seems to have helped. I don't smell the coffee anymore. I wonder if I opened the Ziploc in a few minutes if I'd be able to smell the coffee. That would definitely let me know if it was in my head or not. I'd just open the bag and take a little whiff. At least then I'd know if I was imagining it all. I probably sound like a mental patient right about now, but you'd know what I was talking about if you'd tasted this particular brand. The most amazing I've ever had.
I found it when I took a trip to New Orleans a few months ago. It was in a little cafe well off the beaten path. I'd actually stopped in to get directions back to my hotel and as soon as I walked in the front door the aroma of the coffee knocked me off my feet. They offered me a free sample and it was like everything in the world that is well and good in convenient hot beverage form. I ordered one large coffee, then another, and later walked out with six one-pound bags under my arm. I gave one to my brother, one to my dad, one to my in-laws, and kept the other three for myself. I thought I went through them amazingly fast but the fact that one of them escaped my eyes now makes sense. I knew there was no way I would have gone through three bags in two weeks. Two seems to make a little more sense. One bag left and it's all for my number one pal. Well, I guess enough time has passed. I'm gonna go check it out.

FRIDAY 7:31pm
I shouldn't have opened the freezer bag. As soon as I slid that little red plastic tab to the right and undid the patented Ziploc seal the scent of the most amazing coffee in the world wafted out and filled the room. I know it's impossible but for a second I felt as if I could see the aroma, like in those old Pepe LePew cartoons.

FRIDAY 7:39pm
The coffeemaker has been unpacked and I can hear the water percolating from here. As it runs through the coffee grounds, seeps through the filter, and drips into the pot the anticipation is killing me. I almost want to remove the pot and stick my head under there and let it brew straight into my mouth. But it would probably be too hot.

FRIDAY 7:42pm
I'm an idiot. The coffee being too hot wasn't the main snag in what I now realize was probably my dumbest idea ever. As soon as I removed the coffee pot it flipped a trigger (or more precisely un-flipped it) and the water stopped brewing. Part of a safety precaution taken by the manufacturer to prevent spills, I'm sure. But all it did was stop me from tasting the caffeinated goodness. While my brain was processing all of this it failed to register the fact that the burner the pot sits on stays pretty intensely hot and I seared the crap out of my left ear. But in the long run it's a small price to pay for tasty coffee.

FRIDAY 7:45pm
Coffee almost done. Ear still hurts.

FRIDAY 7:52pm
Mmmmmmmmmm! I don't know what happened but somehow the coffee managed to be even better than I remembered. Be right back. Going to get another cup.

FRIDAY 7:54pm
Second cup just as good. Maybe even a little better. Brewing another pot as I write this. I don't quite get it. It was always my understanding that after coffee beans are ground they lose their flavor. I read an article once that said you should never let coffee grounds go for longer than a week if you want maximum flavor. And that pre-ground stuff like Folgers grocery stores try to pass off as coffee is totally out of the question. But this particular coffee seems to have gotten better with age, like wine. I don't quite understand it but I'm definitely not complaining. I figure after this next pot I'll go ahead and give the rest of the coffee to Todd. Sure, it'll be an open bag of coffee but after he's -- Wait, coffee almost done. Be right back.

FRIDAY 8:16pm
I wonder if it's possible to brew and drink the rest of this coffee tonight before I have to give up the coffeemaker. Well, I'm sure it's possible, I just wonder if I could handle that much goodness. What the heck. It's Friday. Let's turn this mother out.

FRIDAY 8:25pm
Just finished the second pot and numero three has just started. Went to the bathroom and peed twice in less than ten minutes. My hands are shaking a bit but it's worth it. I should build something. Bring it on!

FRIDAY 9:06pm
Third pot is finished and the fourth is almost done. Less than an hour before Todd gets here. How long will it take me to brew what's left? I figure I've still got about half the bag remaining. Talk about a race against the clock! This is like that old show "CHiPs!"

FRIDAY 9:12pm
I just timed myself to see how fast I can say my ABCs. I wish I had a stopwatch so I could be more precise. I did it once in under three seconds but I think I forgot "F." And "R."

FRIDAY 9:20pm
Burned my tongue. Badly. Trying to drink too fast. Didn't give a chance to cool down. I've single-handedly polished off four pots of coffee in about an hour and a half. I'm going to have to move faster than that if I want to finish it all off before Todd gets here. Anyhow, fourth pot is finished and number five will be here soon.

FRIDAY 9:24pm
Went outside to see if I could run to the end of the block and make it back before the coffee was done. I did it!!

FRIDAY 9:31pm
I poured the fifth pot of coffee out into six separate mugs so I could go ahead and start brewing the next batch. Put the oven on at 400 degrees so I could put the extra coffee in there to keep it warm but by the time I drank them all the oven wasn't even hot yet! Better go check to make sure I turned off the oven. Dumb oven!

FRIDAY 9:33pm
It takes 16 somersaults to go from the kitchen to my bedroom.

FRIDAY 9:42pm
Pot number six was just as good as numbers one through five. Fifteen minutes before that asshole gets here. I used the pillows from my bedroom and living room to make a giant padded area so I can bellyflop off the couch.

FRIDAY 9:44pm
If I jump high enough I can almost touch the ceiling with my face!

FRIDAY 9:47pm
Peed for two and a half minutes.

FRIDAY 9:52pm
I heard some noise outside so I ran to the window to see what it was but I couldn't see anything so I ran into the other room but I still couldn't see anything so I went to the other room but I couldn't see anything so I went outside and ran around the block two times and the second time around I touched all the cars that were parked along the curb and someone yelled at me and I shook hands with a Mexican (two times!).

FRIDAY 9:54pm
COOOOFFFEEEEE

FRIDAY 9:58pm
My phone rang and I could hear it but I couldn't find it. And I was like "Where are you, phone!" and my phone was like "Doot doodle-oodle doo!" and I was like "Am I getting warmer?" and my phone was like " Doodle-oot doo-doot!" and I was like "Come on just give me a hint!" and I was running everywhere and tore up my pillow fort trying to find it and went and checked in the oven and it's a good thing it wasn't there because it was still on and it kept ringing and I thought if I could match the pitch I could hone in on which direction it was coming from and I was humming and humming and then I was like "Wait, I'm not even humming my ringtone" and I was running all over and I realized I only have on one shoe and I was like "I ran around the block twice with just one shoe on? No wonder my foot hurts!" and then I found my phone and it was in my hand. But by then it wasn't ringing anymore and I tried to go through my missed calls but I got distracted when the coffeemaker beeped to let me know another pot (I lost count) was done and I started brewing another pot and had to pee again and I was peeing and drinking AT THE SAME TIME! Fluids were going in and out of my body simultaneously and is that even possible? Tried to take a picture with my phone to use as proof but then remembered my phone doesn't have a camera but I did manage to piss all over the phone in the process. Phone ringing again. Going to try to do a backflip.

FRIDAY 10:07pm
Todd not coming over tonight. Said he'll pick up the coffeemaker Monday morning. Backflip unsuccessful.

FRIDAY 10:34pm
Finished off the coffee!!! Peed four more times.

FRIDAY 11:13pm
Peed again. Two more times. Went outside to look at the night and ended up chasing a bug. Must have been laughing really hard because my throat is sore. That bug was fast!

FRIDAY 11:54pm
Tried to make a house of cards. Hands wayyyyy to jittery. Cooked pancakes instead but I'm not hungry. What if I made a house of pancakes????

SATURDAY 12:56am
Spent the last hour trying to make a house of pancakes. Stupid Bisquik assholes.

SATURDAY 3:36am
I ran to the mall!!! They were closed.

SATURDAY 3:47am
Dialed 911 to see if they were open. They were. Got scared and hung up. Phone ringing.

SATURDAY 4:01am
Was trying to wear all my ties at once. Someone rang doorbell. Looked out window and it was the cops! Turned out the lights and made sleeping noises to fool them. Handwriting is messy because I am writing in the dark. My ties are heavy!!

SATURDAY 4:59am
Cops were mad!! Got a ticket. Weren't impressed with my pancake house or my pillow fort. Said it was really hot and found out oven was still on. I tried to illustrate how I chased a bug but they thought I was trying to escape and they chased me down. Peed once. Told me to go to sleep and stop drinking coffee. No way!

SATURDAY 8:42am
Mall still closed. Forgot my wallet anyway. Never found my other shoe.

***

Staking Out Ed

Yesterday morning I did my daily ritual of looking out the window to see what the weather looks like [I've learned to put very little faith in the weather man]. Parked in front of my apartment was a shiny silver BMW. It looked like someone was sitting in front of it staring up at me but because of the reflection of the trees on the windshield, I couldn't be sure. I looked for a bit longer and finally decided there wasn't a guy sitting in the front seat with a white shirt on but it was just a white towel draped over the seat. I continued about my daily routine and when I went outside to get in the car I saw the Beamer was still there.

And I was wrong.

It was a guy in a white button-up shirt just sitting there looking at me. Mind you, by this time he'd been there for about 45 minutes. I drove away and thought about circling the block so I could get behind him and take note of his license plate number.

But then I remembered I wasn't in an episode of 24 and went on to work.

Today I was in Garrett painting the front door trim of a house. I was painting, painting, painting away. I happened to turn around and there in the street parked in front of the house was a shiny silver Corvette. The driver was sitting there just staring at me. I looked at the guy and tried to figure out if maybe I knew him but he started up the sports car and zoomed away.

What the freak is going on?

Coffee: Ahhhhhhhh

A few days ago I posted a blog about an annoying experience I had at a coffee shop. Tonight I am happy to report that thankfully there are two coffee shops here in Auburn and I gave the other place a shot tonight.

I originally intended to do some writing while I was there, but by the time I got there it was only going to be open for another half hour so I didn't bring my notebooks in with me. When I got in and went to the front counter, I heard someone softly say, "Eddie." After my last coffee shop experience where my presence was announced at the top of one's lungs, this was a welcome change.

Inside were three girls from the youth group my cousins Jordan and Logan go to, so it was nice to see some friendly faces and say hello. And, I have to confess, the coffee at this place was much better than the other place. I'm not just saying that because I had a bad experience at the other shop. Ask my brother Ray. I had mentioned to him that the coffee at the other location wasn't as good even before The Incident.

BrewDaily's Cafe, where I went tonight, also has a much nicer vibe to it. I can definitely get some writing done there and I am looking forward to seeing what gets cranked out. Most people have coffee to wake them up but it has the opposite effect on me. My white mocha I had tonight was the very definition of relaxing.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Leave Me Alone!!!!

Last night I wanted to get some writing done, but I couldn't do it here at the apartment. You'd think I'd be able to find some peace and quiet here seeing as how I live alone and the apartment downstairs is vacant but I'll be the first to admit I'm a little ADD and have the attention span of a baby giraffe. I may have every intention of doing some writing but here there's always something to distract me.
I wonder if anyone left me any comments on MySpace!

I wonder if anyone has commented on any of my YouTube videos!

I wonder who's on Comedy Central Presents right now!

I wonder if I should make a smoothie!

I wonder if I should watch a movie!

I wonder who's on IM!

You get the picture. Nothing ever gets done. So I decided to head over to a little coffee shop I stumbled upon last week. The owner knows my brother Ray and the first time I was in he could see the family resemblance and asked how I was related to him.

So I made the short drive over, my trusty little notepad tucked away in my pocket. I ordered an iced coffee and made my way to an out-of-the-way table against the wall and with my back to the door so as to keep myself distraction-free. There were about 6 or 7 kids in there having a Bible study a couple of tables away. No big deal. Although they were carrying on a discussion, they were still mindful of their surroundings and spoke in hushed tones and soon they had faded into the background atmosphere.

At the table next to me were a couple of people playing chess and it didn't take long for me to delve into my notebook and totally forget where I was. I was frantically scribbling away in my book, the words pouring out of me. I was on a roll and it felt good.

Which is probably why I didn't notice the owner had come in. Suddenly his voice broke the calm serenity of the room and I heard his voice boom out, "Hey, do you know who that is?!!!"

All that was missing was the sound effect of a needle scratching across a record. The entire room came to a standstill and everyone; me, the Bible study kids, and the chess players stopped what we were doing and stared at this guy who was pointing me out to his (I assume) wife.

"That's Ray Placencia's brother!!" He continued to bellow out and I felt the focus of the room shift from him to me.

Bear in mind, I really don't like being the center of attention. You may find that hard to believe seeing as how I've spent so much time on the stage and trying to make people laugh (both on and offstage). People are always surprised when they hear I'm a shy person. But think about when you first met me. Chances are I didn't come across as "the funny guy." Maybe "the nice guy." But it usually takes me a while to warm up to people when I first meet them.

In the meantime, please don't shine the spotlight on me.

Especially when you're in a place that is relatively quiet and people are trying to hold a Bible study. Or play a game of chess. Or write.

I smiled at the guy's wife and sheepishly said, "Hello." And the room continued to stare at me. I don't know what she - or everyone else - expected me to do. Was I supposed to hop behind the piano and play a song or grab my foot and stretch it behind my head? This guy's wife was still staring at me and I just smiled and nodded. "How are you?" was all I managed to get out.

She smiled and then they walked away. And for those of you keeping score at home, everyone else was still looking at me. I focused my attention on my book and my writing - or at least pretended to - until everyone else went back to what they were doing before they were so rudely interrupted.

I gathered my papers, put them back in my book, slipped it into my back pocket, dropped my cup in the proper waste receptacle, left the building, and swore never to return.

WOW, Do I Rock

Tonight I cooked some catfish and holy schmergoley, I freakin' rocked the house. Blackened catfish with a topping made of mango, onion, avocado, lime juice and cilantro and complimented with a glass of white wine.

Zoinks, it was good. I'm not too humble to admit it.

Whew.

Looking For Home

Today after work all I wanted to do was go home.

But I don't know where that is.

I have a small apartment here in Auburn where I have my computer and a few random essentials. But when I think of the concept of home, I don't think of these bare white walls and matching Venetian blinds.

When I think of home I guess my first instinct is to think of Garrett, the city I grew up in and where the majority of my family is. But I don't know. Garrett doesn't feel like home, either. Kind of like an old pair of shoes that you loved, but are now a half-size too small. You want to wear them, you want to feel that comfortableness...but after some time, you're going to have to face the fact they just don't fit.

Other geographical places I think of when I think of home are California and New York. But I wonder if I only think of California so fondly because it's the first place I lived when I left home and did a lot of growing up and experiencing life there. I have some great, great memories there. The big city. A million opportunities. Meeting a great friend. Just having a great time.

But do memories alone make a home?

As much as I love New York, the main reason I think of it as home is because of the friends I have there from the National Comedy Theatre. I've never had such a huge circle of friends that consisted of so many genuinely wonderful people chasing the exact same dream as me (or something very close to it). The city has a lot to offer, but if my buddies all moved away, I know I probably wouldn't think of it as home. I don't think of New York as home. I think of the people there.

So perhaps home isn't a physical place but a state of mind. If that's the case, then Lancaster PA and Atlanta GA are homes. As a cities and places, I wasn't their biggest fan. But the people I met in those places are lifelong friends whom I adore and they made it into something like a home.

I'd like to be home. I want to be home. I just don't know how to get there or even where it is, for that matter. I've had this intense longing for a home for the past week or so and it's been a heavy load.

I remember reading interviews about the late singer Rich Mullins. A lot of his close friends said that just before he died in a tragic car accident, he was very restless, looking for a home...basically in a similar place I am right now.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I think my time is almost up. I'm just saying someone else was seeking the same think I am seeking now, and I think he found it. The question of the hour is:

Will I?

Gonna Fly Now

One of the things I was looking forward to when I moved back to Indiana was going down to the boxing club. Dad's been a boxing coach for as long as I can remember and was a boxer for quite a few years before that.

Last night after work I went with Dad down to the boxing club to work out. I don't even remember the last time I trained with Dad [I must have been around 16 or 17] and I was excited to return. I'm still sore, and I love it.

The workout killed me and I reveled in every last minute of it. The training agenda hasn't changed a bit since the last time I was there so I was able to get right into the groove of it all. Three one-minute rounds of warm-ups, three one-minute rounds of speed heavybags, and then three rounds each of heavybag, swaybag, and speedbag.

By the end of it all I was nothing but a big sweaty mess but I didn't mind at all. I'd worked hard to get that way. I'm looking forward to going back again next Friday night. The club is officially closed for the summer, but a few guys still like to go down so Dad opens it up once a week. The actual training season will start in a few weeks and the club will be open three times a week.

Dad's a great boxing coach [that'll happen when you're as good in the ring as he was] and it was good to step back in and have him spotting me. I'm not looking for any bouts or fights, I'm just there for the workout. And it ain't too bad. If you're in the Dekalb County area, I highly recommend it. Unlike most gyms that charge an arm and a leg each month to join, the Dekalb County Boxing Club only charges five bucks a year, and Dad only charges that because that's what the boxing commission requires. Dad's never charged more than that required minimum because he wanted as many kids to be able to participate that wanted to join.

If you want me to keep you posted on when the club will officially open for the season, drop me a line. It's a heckuva workout, and you won't be sorry.

Legally Hoosier

I was able to go and get my Indiana driver's license this week. Seeing as how my old Tennessee license expired in November, I guess I was due. Ha! But I was living in New York City, and you don't need a car there, so I never wanted to spend the money to renew my license for nothing (I was using my passport as my I.D.).

This week I finally had a little extra time to run by the DMV (excuse me, the BMV here in Indiana) and get legally licensed. Because I was switching my license from another state, I had to take the written test. That always makes me nervous, because I never know what they're going to ask on there. But I'll be darned if I'm actually gonna read through the driver's manual. Let's do this.

I was allowed to miss 6 questions. I wonder how close I got. One of them was:

Drivers licenses issued to people 21 years of age and younger are:

A. Considered temporary licenses
B. Means the driver must be accompanied by a driver 21 years of age or older for the first 90 days
C. Must wear seat belts at all times
D. All answers are correct

I thought this might be a trick question. Mainly because it has nothing to do with me. What does this question have to do with how well I can operate my vehicle? This isn't a test of my driving ability, it's just Indiana Motorist Trivia. There was also a question about drivers 16 years of age and again, impertinent to me. So instead of filling in a circle with my answer, I carved my name into the desk.

Another fun question was "What is the legal speed limit on a county State road?" Allow me to answer your question with a question of my own: "What in the world is a county State road?" My options were 50, 55, 60, and 65. I chose 50 because Indiana is slow.

Later on they asked what the speed limit is on a county road. I was pretty sure the answer was 50, so I changed the answer to the other question figuring they couldn't both be 50. I changed my answer to my brother's name carved into the desk.

After all was said and done, I passed and am now legally allowed to operate a large vehicle at a high rate of speed.

Or at least at 50mph.

NBC: Later Rather Than Sooner

A couple of weeks ago I think I posted something on here about my video submission for a contest NBC was having to promote the most excellent show, The Office. The top three submissions will be aired on NBC. They've released the 20 finalists at http://www.nbc.com/The_Office/contest/ and if you look closely, you'll see that I'm not among them. A few of them are actually pretty good. But only a few. I'm not saying that my submission is better than the others (I'm no sore loser) but I am saying I can't believe most of them were selected. Kind of like watching America's Funniest Home Videos. At the end of the show when they announce the 3 funniest videos, more often than not I'm left thinking Huh? But I guess that's the thing about humor. It's all objective.

My video submission is posted on YouTube and, as promised, I have made the video public so you can watch and enjoy (hopefully enjoy). The final product had to be exactly 20 seconds and you weren't allowed to use any footage from the show (even though one of the 20 finalists did. Um...that's not freakin fair). My original cut was 2 and-a-half minutes, so needless to say, I had to do some serious editing. The basic premise is some friends hanging around, quoting lines from The Office, and one guy who doesn't watch the show tries desperately to fit in.

Maybe it didn't translate in 20 seconds. Or maybe the judges forgot that Steve Carell, star of The Office, was also in The 40 Year Old Virgin. Oh well. We still had a good time. My submission can be seen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kre-xh16fw Feel free to leave a comment and browse around while you're there!

Miami (Yawn) Vice

Went to see Miami Vice with Dad the other night. I never saw the show on TV so I wasn't too incredibly jazzed to see the film, but thought I'd give it a try. It's not one of those TV-into-film shows where you have to be a fan of the show to "get it." In fact, aside from the name "Sonny," as far as I could tell, it didn't have anything else in common with the show. It might as well have been called Bad Boys III (except without the humor or action or appeal). The movie is basically an hour and a half of Colin Ferrell in sex scenes (I'm not that desperate, thank you) and then 10 minutes of shooting bad guys (They don't even draw their guns until the end? Can this movie be any more boring? Don't get me wrong. I'm a fan of "talky" films as long as what they're talking about is interesting [as in Glengarry Glenn Ross]. But I was hoping for something to jump in and wake me up).

I guess I'm just not a fan of director Michael Mann. Like his movie Collateral, that had a lot of cool shots of LA at night, there are a lot of cool shots of Miami at night in Vice. But Tom Cruise with gray hair wasn't enough to save Collateral, and Colin Ferrell in bed certainly didn't save Miami Vice.

Where's Talladega Nights when you need it?

The Library Is For Stupid People

This week Rich and I were working at the Garrett Public Library. On the west side of the library is a side entrance door and three adjoining windows that are in pretty bad shape; we spent the week stripping the old varnish off of the wood, steel wool-ing them smooth, sanding them, applying a coat of Cover Stain, and then a coat of paint (we'll be putting on the final coat of paint on next week). Although the side door is closest to the parking lot, the front entrance is only about 25 paces away.

As we worked, we encountered some local citizens that had questions and/or comments that on more than one occasion forced me to turn to Rich and say I thought only smart people went to the library. I would now like to share some of these brilliant insights with you.

* I am on a stepladder, dropcloth splayed out below me, in front of the side door, applying a coat of stripper. Approximately 435 people asked Can I get in this door? Either that, or they would just walk up behind me and stand there silently, apparently waiting for me to finish my work for the day, so they could go in. On all occasions, I would politely let them know the front door is open. Then I would make a sarcastic comment to Rich about their pink stretch pants.

* Rich and I were scrubbing the paint stripper off with steel wool. Scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing. Toiling away like good little Mexicans, not bothering anyone, and we are approached by an old man who asked us, Are you doing that by hand? No, genius, we're using solar-powered heat-seeking monkey-guided lasers.

*Rich was sanding the windows and was approached by a man he guesstimated was around 50 years old. The man asked him, Are you sanding them? I told Rich the proper response was No, I'm checking my email.

* A fat guy sitting on a scooter stared at us and watched us work while he ate a bag of Krispy Kreme donuts. He didn't say anything stupid to annoy me, but the fact that there was a fat guy parked on a scooter eating a bag of Krispy Kreme donuts made me want to laugh out loud. It was a picture like you wouldn't believe. I was impressed with my ability to keep a straight face.

* A skinhead in a pickup truck slowed down, drove by us, and yelled Are you ready for the rinse cycle? This didn't annoy us as much as it just confused us. Apparently the thing to do in Garrett is to yell out random phrases about household appliances. Next time I see him I'm going to shout out Are you ready to cook it on high for 3 minutes, rotate it 1/4 turn, stir it, and cook it for an additional minute-and-a-half?

Even though the hillbilly geniuses were out in full effect, it was still a fun week and Rich and I had a good time laughing at our predicament. It was Rich's last week working with us. He'll be heading off to Arizona in the Phoenix/Tempe area to go to school for sound engineering. I was glad for the chance to get to work with him this summer. His little section of our family always lived far away from us and they moved back to Garrett while I was living in California, so I never got a chance to hang out with them a lot in the past. I am definitely grateful for the chance to get to work with my cousin and get to know him a little better. I made him promise to be the sound man on all of my films from now on, and he conceded.

Sucker.

Pitcher Perfect

The older people get, the more they tend to forget things and generally go insane. The trouble is most of them don't realize it; they usually think everyone else around them is to blame. If we were aware of that exact moment when we start to lose it then maybe it would help make the transition to senility a little easier.
Yesterday, I had my moment.

But at least I know it.

Piper, my sister-in-law, was going to do some grocery shopping and Ray asked me if I needed her to pick up anything for me. He asked me to email him a list of things she should look for. Because it's been so warm lately, I've really been in the mood for some Mexican summer fruit drinks I'm fond of making. However, I had nothing to make the drinks in and so I decided to put that on the list.

But when I sat down at the computer, I couldn't think of the word pitcher. And the thing that lets me know that I am going crazy is the fact that I didn't sit and rack my brain trying to think of the word. It didn't even occur to me that there was such a word. I remember thinking to myself That's so odd that thing doesn't have a name. And I just accepted it as fact.

So, on my email list to my brother, there are limes, oranges, grapefruit, sugar...and a big plastic container that you make drinks in like lemonade or Kool-Aid. All because I forgot the word pitcher existed.

Amazingly, Ray and Piper knew what I was talking about, and she got me a large plastic pitcher. And because they knew just what I meant, I guess they're going crazy, too.

"The Office" Promo

If you watch NBC's The Office or ever swing by my YouTube site, you may have seen the promos for a new contest. Basically, they are asking people to make a promo for The Office, exactly 20 seconds long, and submit it to them. They'll pick 3 grand prize winners to air on NBC after an episode of the sitcom. No cash and prizes, but a chance for some real bragging rights.

I spent some time yesterday with my brother Ray, his wife Piper, my cousin Rich, and Dad. They were my cast for the project, and yes, I resisted the urge to put myself in it so I could concentrate on directing & editing, and it only took us about 30 minutes to film, (I mean come on, the finished project is only 20 seconds long)!

I sat down tonight to edit and, after assembling all of the footage I wanted to use, it clocked in at about two-and-a-half minutes. Zoinks! This was a lot tougher than I imagined. Shaving off two minutes and ten seconds, while still trying to keep the humor and the gist was quite a task. But I think I did OK.

So we'll see. Right now 96 people have submitted a video. If you think about it, that's really not a lot, so maybe we have a shot. You aren't allowed to view the other videos, but you can browse and see a still photo taken from the other entries. All I'm saying is, pretty much all of the other entries take place in an office. I took the opposite approach and we'll see if being a little different pays off.

After they declare a winner, if it ain't me, I'll make it available for everyone to see (right now the videos have to be marked "Private" so only the contest honchos can see them). I'll keep you posted. Wish us luck!

Why Factories Give Me A Headache

Ever try to wrap your mind around something that can't be completely understood? You know, like trying to fathom how huge the universe is. You sit there and think about it and pretty soon you have to stop or else you freak out and find you have converted to Scientology.

I have the same problem with factories.

Think about it. Everything in the world, everything, is made in a factory of some sort (you know, excluding rocks and shrubbery). Your cell phone, toilet paper tubes, clothes pins...they all come from factories. So that means obviously there are as many factories as there are different things. And then there are factories that make the machines that are in the factories.

Follow me on this. Let's take a factory that makes Playstation controllers. It's a fairly unique product with its own unique look and design. And because the factory needs specific equipment to make these unique products, it needs specific machinery and gadgets that other factories don't need. So then you need factories to make these specific factory machine parts. And then you need factories to make those parts and factories to make those factory parts, and so on down the line.

When does it freakin' end????????

That's why I hate factories. They make me think too hard. Can't we just go back to the days when cars were made of sticks and houses were made of twine?

A Quote From Jeff

I've never been the kind of person who was into quotes. Not that I don't like them, I just never remembered them, and reading a book of quotes was always like an amalgum of random thoughts that was hard for me to follow. When I think of quotes, I honestly think of one of those flowery day calendars that middle-aged women have on their office desks or on their window sill.

That being said, yesterday I was talking with my pal Jeff Jackson and he sent me a quote he said reminded him of me. I wasn't sure what to expect but I was definitely interested as Jeff is someone I really admire and respect.

And the quote killed me. It's like my life mindset only in better words than I could ever put it. I'll never have this quote memorized or be able to tell someone the quote at a party because I know I won't remember it correctly, but I wish I would. It's really cool. So I pass it along to you here.

"A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinction between his work and his play; his labor and his leisure; his mind and his body; his education and his recreation. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence through whatever he is doing, and leaves others to determine whether he is working or playing. To himself, he always appears to be doing both." -- Francois Auguste Rene Chateaubriand

Wow, Auburn, That Was Fast

One of the things you have to do when you rent a new apartment is go through the hassle of having the utilities transferred over into your name. (You can't do it over the phone, you have to do it in person, and when they don't have weekend hours or hours past 5pm, it then becomes a hassle.) Because it rained today, we got off work a little early, and I figured I'd walk downtown and get it taken care of while I had the chance.

I got home and lo and behold, my power was turned off. Hm. Weird. Good thing I was heading down to the utility place, ya know? It's about 10 blocks away, give or take a few. It was slightly drizzling but I just came from New York so it was cake.

I got there, filled out the form, paid them my deposit, and she said I was good to go. I asked when the power would get turned back on and she said, "We show it's still on."

I politely informed her that it wasn't. She checked her paperwork and whaddya know, they goofed up. It seems the landlord asked them to turn the power off in the apartment downstairs and they flipped the wrong switch. The lady told me she wasn't sure if they could do it in time, since they were about to close (they close at four??). But then as I explained to her I live in the apartment upstairs and, you know, would like power, she told me she'd make a call.

By the time I got home, about 10 minutes later at most, the power was back on and all was well. I must admit, I was pretty impressed with how fast they made it out. I guess one of the nice things about being back in a small town, eh?

At any rate, I feel like I accomplished a lot in that hour, even though technically I really didn't. I just walked downtown and gave them a check. But I have power back. Whew. And to think I almost got stuck having to do the only thing one can do when there's no power: read. ;)

The Devil Does Indeed Wear Ed-a

I've had some people ask me if I can be spotted in either of the two movies that are currently out that I worked on, The Break Up and The Devil Wears Prada, and the answer is yes and no.

I have been lazy and haven't gone out to the theaters yet to check them out and then realized I could download bootleg copies of them, review them, and find out. Now don't get yourself in a bunch, I didn't watch them, just skimmed them in 30-second intervals to look for the scenes I was in and then promptly deleted them.

I'm nowhere to be found in The Break Up. The roller blading scene and beach scene, in fact, didn't even make the final cut of the film, so all we can do is hope I make it in the deleted scenes on the DVD.

The Devil Wears Prada is a different story. You have to be fast on your toes to see me, but I can indeed be seen! About 2/3 of the way through the film, there is a short montage of models on the runway at different fashion shows. The camera moves from shots of Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci to the models doin' their runway thing. Immediately after that brief scene we cut to a party, and everything in the background is in white. The camera quickly pans back to reveal more of the party and there, right there, you can see me in the bottom right-hand portion of the screen.



And then I'm gone. Outta there.

Am I disappointed you don't see more of me in either of the two films? Not at all. I got my check. Thanks. Cha-ching. See ya.

Buzz! Smack! And when it's funny

Sometimes things happen that are, for lack of a better word, tragic. But for some reason the media will at times present them to me in a way that comes off as humorous.

Case in point:

I was reading the local newspaper yesterday and there was a story about some maniac running around in the New York City subway system. Seems he was carrying a cordless power saw with him, and for no particular reason, decided to slice up some guy's chest. Don't worry. The guy is OK. Shaken, of course, but the injury wasn't fatal.

They went on to interview the victim ("He didn't say anything! I think he was crazy!") and also obtain comments from witnesses ("He had a crazy look in his eyes!"). It went on to say the victim was OK and the attacker was in custody.

And then, the last sentence of the story is what killed me. After reading about this horrific incident, the writer of the story decided to wrap it all up with this classic line:

In an unrelated incident, earlier in the day the attacker punched a different man in the face.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Honk!!

Yesterday Dad, Rich, and I were returning from lunch in downtown Garrett and heading back to the worksite. We approached a corner and there were a couple of little girls there on the corner with signs, yelling at the passing cars. I assumed they were advertising a lemonade stand or yard sale or perhaps even a car wash.

We pulled up to the corner and couldn't believe what I read on their piece of posterboard, scrawled with crayon in little-kid writing:

honk if you like puppies or kittens!!!!!

honk twice if you like kittens!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And then they began to yell at us. "Honk if you like puppies or kittens!!! Honk if you like kittens!! Honk!!"

Well, I thought to myself, it sure doesn't get much more random than that.

Sure, it was a cute sight, but the cynic in me took over. Is this the best idea you guys have come up with to pass the time on a beautiful summer day? Getting cars to honk in support if puppies and/or kittens?

Have I mentioned I sometimes feel like I am living in Blaine, the city in Waiting for Guffman?

Old Friends

Today I called JT. Hadn't talked to him in a long time (too long). It was really good to talk with him again and catch up. He's a good man, strong work ethic, and I admire him a lot (plus, he's freakin' hilarious). You know those people that you know and miss and love but never realize how much until you talk to them again? Same thing happened again today. I miss that guy.

I've also been chatting with my dear friend Edlyn as well. She works at Gotee and I kind of kick myself for leaving Nashville and not taking advantage of having such a cool friend nearby while I was there. I constantly ask myself why we didn't hang out more. I'm glad we've been talking more and getting to know each other. She rocks my world!

I single them out not because they are my favorite friends whom I miss, but because I spoke to both of them today, and it was on my mind how much I love all of my out-of-town buddies.

Warm fuzzies for everyone. Take two, they're small.

Terocus, Terocus, Terocus

Wow, what a weekend it's been. I feel like I've spent the entire time either filming or editing, and that's not stretching the truth much.

Ever since I decided to make my way back to Indiana and revive a corny home movie my brother and I filmed about 15 years ago, I've been in full movie-making mode and loving every bit of it.

Not only has it been a blast hamming it up with Ray, Piper, and Valencia (yes, her name is indeed Valencia Placencia!), I've also been in film editing boot camp. In the month since I've been home, we've filmed four episodes of Terocus (final total running time about 27 minutes) and I'm learning new tricks and shortcuts all the time.

We actually filmed Episodes 3 and 4 this weekend and last night about 3:30am I finished the editing. We're getting ready for the big premiere at the 4th of July festivities today, so swing on by if you get the chance!

Yay for fun!

Agua

Today we were working for some old lady in Garrett. Right off, that sounds mean, but I heard her telling Dad she was 87 so come on, let's face it: she's an old lady.

Dad introduced me and Rich (my cousin) to her and although her face said "Oh, it's so nice to meet you" I could tell that in her heart she was saying, "More Mexicans."

Dad left Rich and I there while he attended to more business. Rich and I were in the back, scraping paint off the side of the house, innocently toiling away in the hot sun (like good Mexicans do). After about an hour or so the lady peeks her head out the back door and says, "Are you guys going to want any water?"

Now this isn't an odd request. The people we work for are usually very kind people and to have them give us a soda or water while we're working is never unusual. It's always a very kind gesture and is always very appreciated. So when this character asked us if we wanted any water, I am sure Rich thought nothing of it when he politely answered, "Sure, I'll have a glass." But I remembered sensing the evil in her soul earlier and knew it was too good to be true.

She responded to Rich by pointing beside us and saying, "The hose is right there."

No lie. She said the hose was right there.

She then added, "Here are a couple of glasses for you" and handed Rich two plastic cups. She then popped back in and closed (and locked) the door.

I don't know why, but I found that little gesture extremely humorous. We weren't good enough to have People Water, but doggonit, we were gonna use cups to drink from.

I turned to Rich and said, "I'm blogging about this tonight."

Name That Artist

My brother works for the post office but isn't a full-time employee (yet). On his days off he comes to work for Dad and today was one of those days. It's always a lot of fun when the Rayman is about. Today Ray, Rich (my cousin), and I were playing the game of Name That Artist while we had on the radio. We made up the rules as we went along, but here's the basic outline:
* When a song comes on the radio, the first person to name the singer gets 1 point (the song is voided if the DJ says the artist before one of the players can)

*If no one can name the artist, the person in last place gets 1 point.

*At any point in the game, you can say "the next song is worth 2 points." Each player can only use this once per day.

*At the start of the day, you each name 1 artist. The first person's predeiction to be played receives 3 points.

*The game ends at 4:00. At 3:00, the next song played is worth 10 points if you are in last place, 5 points if you are in 2nd, and only 1 point if you are in first.

We had a blast playing throughout the day and it really helped to pass the time (you need to find something to do when you're stripping and refinishing hardwood floors). I ended up winning and Rich came in a close second, although I think Ray cheated. He tried to convince me that Train sings that new song "Bad Day." I told him I knew that was wrong, but couldn't think of the correct name. He insisted it was Train and claims we gypped him out of 2 points (it played twice today and each time he tried to convince me it was a Train song). Turns out I was right, but I'm not saying who it is in case Ray reads this and saves the info for a later date.

I don't think Ray is working with us for the rest of the week, but it was fun to have him pop in. If you've spent any time with me (especially on a car trip), then you know I love to come up with stupid games to play. Ray and I are kings at that. Tuesday we played the "Name an actor and then we have to come up with said actor's best--and worst-- films" game. It brought on some great discussion, rather heated exchanges (all in good fun), and rehashed the old "Who's the better actor, Kurt Russell or Steven Seagal?" debate Ray and Dad have been waging for years.

All in all, a good time. My brother is fun.

Hello Again

Wow, look at that. Almost 20 days since my last blog. So much has happened yet I feel to lazy to encapsulate all of it. But for you, dear reader, I shall try.

I'm now in my own little upstairs apartment in Auburn, IN. It's about 3 miles from Garrett, the little town I grew up in. It's a neat little apartment, one bedroom, nothing fancy, yet just the way I like it. It'll give me a chance to save money and that's always a plus.

I've been working for Dad as the radio gig here didn't pan out. But it's cool. I'm not at all upset or bitter about it. I know I'm back home again for a reason and now I'm just trying to figure out what that reason is.

In the meantime I've had a blast hanging out with my brother Ray, his wife Piper, and their little girl Valencia. I've really missed having the chance to see them on a regular basis. One of the things I was determined to do while I was here was work on filming and editing and Ray and I have been able to make that happen.

Back in 1992 before I moved away from home we filmed a silly little movie called TEROCUS about a superhero who has the power to make hammers appear out of nowhere. Since my return to Indiana we've decided to turn TEROCUS into a series, and we began filming the first season (which will be 6 episodes). The original Terocus and first episode of the new season is here on my YouTube website. Check it out, and enjoy the inanity.

By day I've been working with Dad painting houses and what-have-you and it's given me some good time to think all day about story ideas for other films, plotlines, et cetera. I'm also looking forward to working with a buddy of mine on an idea for a film. He lives on the other side of the country, but I've done that kind of long distance co-writing before with my good buddy Ed Doney with pretty impressive results, and I'm looking forward to collaborating again.

The point is, I'm able to keep my creative juices flowing while I'm back in Hoosier country. I'm still getting used to the Indiana slang and phrasing. "Pop" instead of "soda" (although I think I'll stick with "soda"), "sack" instead of "bag" (neither one of these words is really much more appealing than the other), and that God-awful phrase, "couple-three" (as in "Did you pick up some apples?" "Yeah, I got a couple-three.").

One of the Indiana sights that I had totally forgotten about and it brought back a huge rush of nostalgia is the fogger truck. Every summer this huge truck drives around town spewing this cloud of anti-mosquito spray into the air and this thick cloud just kind of hangs in the air. Kind of like an ice cream truck. Just creeping along, spraying this mystery chemical around. Just like ice cream trucks do. I recall, very much against our parents' wishes, rushing out into the street into the cloud of spray to make sure we would be protected against the wretched bugs. How none of us ever got tagged by a moving car while we pranced in the thick vapor is still a mystery to me.

And that's where I am for now. Things are good. I'm not where I thought I would be a year ago, but when I stop and think about it, I can pretty much say that for every stage in my life and I have no real complaints. The adventure continues, and we can either drag our heels and let it pull us against our will or we can buckle up, throw our hands into the air, and enjoy the ride.

Let's do this.

To Make a Short Story Long...

If you've read any of the short stories I've posted up here, you know I'm a big fan of the back story. If you're telling me a story I'll interrupt you to gather information that's honestly not pertinent to the story but it's information I feel I need to know to get an exact mental picture in my head (wait, did this happen in your car before or after your CD player broke?). In fact, this whole paragraph could easily be deleted as it adds nothing to the blog you're about to read except to re-affirm my affinity for rambling. And, just to warn you, this blog will have rambling.
Some names have been changed to protect the guilty.

My story starts back in high school. There was a guy named Chazz (not his real name) who was always kind of a goofball. I never minded him much. I'd say hi in the halls and what have you, but we never really hung out; he was just a guy in most of my honors English classes.

After high school he was in some sort of accident, I forget what exactly, but I know that he conked his head and since then has been a little nuts. He emailed me back in the early 90s trying to get me to convert to communism. He showed up at our 10-year high school anniversary with these huge copies of a thesis he wrote on communism that he wanted to use as literature to get all of us to join his ranks en masse. The weird thing is, he wrote a thesis on Communism and he wasn't even in school. So you know, stuff like that. Just a general weird guy.

At some point, I heard about him marrying some girl from Mexico. I don't know what the deal was, if she was a mail order bride or just looking for a green card, but I remember it was something like that and he wasn't trying to hide the fact that the whole situation was a little hinky. They had like 5 kids (maybe she already had a couple before they met, I'm not sure).

Because she is Mexican and so is my Dad's side of the family (partnered with the fact that my family lives in a really small town) it wasn't long before this girl (I'll call her Isabella...not her real name) met one of my relatives. She started hanging out with my Aunt Ella (again, not her real name) and they became inseparable.

I met Isabella a few times at family reunions and such, but I know I couldn't point her out in a lineup. I don't think it was the fact that I was married and I never had a wandering eye, I just don't think she made that much of an impression on me. I remember the last time I was home my Aunt Ella telling me that Chazz was being mean to Isabella and they were probably going to split up. I also remember a mini-reunion and Isabella was there and, since I was a married man at the time, I thought she was being a little too eager and friendly. There's flirting and then there's desperation, and she was opting for the latter.And yet, I still don't even remember what she looks like. Now that's leaving an impression.

Fast forward a few years. Isabella and Chazz get divorced. I get divorced. I move back to town.

And the first time my aunt Ella sees me, she starts singing the praises of Isabella and I know exactly where it's going. "Oh, Eddie, I took my son to meet Isabella and he said 'Oh mom, she's so cute' and 'Oh mom, she's such a good cook.'" I didn't even try to mask my disinterest. I changed the subject without asking any follow-up questions and life went on.

A few days later I got an email from Isabella telling me she wants to have me over to her house for a "welcome home" dinner. She also tells me that if I need to find a place to stay in town, I can live with her. I politely let her know I've already got a place to stay.

When I moved to town I brought Homer the cat with me and have been having a heckuva time finding a place for him to stay while I find an apartment. In the meantime, he was staying in the basement at the house where my dad, Aunt Ella, and my grandmother live. Then one day I get a call from Ella. She said Isabella was over at the house and wanted to know if she could take Homer home with her and take care of him until I find a place. I said sure, whatever, that's great. It'll help me out and get the cat out of my dad's hair. Because I don't have a car, I was giving my brother Ray some money each week to go over and make sure Homer had food and his litter box was cleaned out. Ella told me Isabella was bringing the cat home that night, so I sent Ray an email letting me know he didn't need to clean out the box any more.

A week later I get a call from Ella to complain that Homer is going to the bathroom outside of his litter box. I was a little thrown off. "He's still there? I thought Isabella was going to take him home."

"Well she was going to, but he didn't seem like he wanted to go and we didn't know if we had his permisison to put him in his carrier."

You don't need his permission, he's a freaking cat! I screamed in my head. So now my cat is crapping in my grandmother's basement. GREAT. Ella then went on to inform me that I should probably take the cat over to Isabella's house myself. They could come and get me and then I could stay at Isabella's house for a few days "so the cat could get used to being in a new place." Or so Isabella can rape me I added to myself. Stop trying to set me up with her! I did some fast talking and told her I would have Ray swing by there, put the cat in his carrier, and Isabella can take him home.

"Just a minute," Ella said.

Don't put Isabella on the phone, don't put Isabella on the phone.

"Hi Eddie!"

I assumed it was Isabella.

And it was.

"Hi."

"You can live with me if you want to."

"Thanks, but I'm already staying here at my Uncle's"...you know, the place where you called me.

"Oh, OK. Well I can come and get you and you can bring the cat over. I have a trampoline. You can come over and we can play."

I might sound a little immature when I say this, but I don't want to play with you, Isabella! I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. I wasn't interested in you when I was married, and now I'm not interested in you when I'm not married. I don't want to support you. I don't want to be your American Dream and pick up where your crazy brain-damaged husband left off, and I'm certainly not looking to go from no kids to five kids. I'm not a bellhop, and you have a little too much baggage for me to handle.

I told her there's no need for me to go over, as Ray is packing up the cat for her and he'll be all ready to go. I forgot to mention that the more she and my aunt try to push her on me, the more I want to put drywall nails in my eyes.

Yesterday I received an email from her (I have to be sure to thank my aunt for giving her my email address) and here's a little portion for your enjoyment:

"Maybe you don't know too much about mexicans*, we are very hospitality people and I say this because when I offer you my home is an real offer**. And listen, any time you need a ride let me know, I will be very happy taking you any place you need to***, I will have somebody to talk while driving."

* You're right, maybe I don't. Growing up with a Mexican Dad and his 12 Mexican brothers and sisters and all of their kids and my grandparents and what have you....I don't know a thing about Mexicans. PS: Your best friend (you know, my Aunt) is Mexcian.

** To rape me.

*** Like your bed

She then goes on:

"I don't want you to feel I am buging you* is just the way mexicans are**. And the memory I have of you is... A guy playing with the family having a good time***. That's the reason I told you last night we could play on the trampolin we have, I enjoy jumping there like a little girl****... he, he, he you most see us jumping he, he, he...***** "

* Too late. You are.

** Speak for yourself.

*** Um...I know you and my aunt are bosom buddies, but you're not my family.

**** What's that supposed to mean? What is it about me that makes you think I'm into little girls on trampolines, you sick [bleep].

***** He he, you're psychotic. Leave me alone, he he he he.

Now let's remember, none of this is my fault! I didn't go out with this girl and have sex with her and then disappear the next morning. I didn't date her and then dump her. I didn't even ask for her number. I have no relationship with her whatsoever. This all came about because my aunt decided to play matchmaker.

Maybe I'm being unnecessarily cold. Maybe I'm being thoughtless and I'm just not realizing it. Maybe I should placate her and just go out with her once to get her off my back.

Nah. I'm staying the freak away.

My Life As A Sitcom

No, really. It's a sitcom. Last night my uncle told me I should make my life into a TV show and I don't think it's a half-bad idea. Here's the premise:

*Guy gets divorced and moves back to his hometown to take a job at a local radio station.

* Guy arrives in town and finds that the job isn't actually available yet, so he goes to work for his dad painting houses.

* He has come from New York where cars weren't needed, thus he has no car. He also has no place of his own yet, so he is staying with his aunt, uncle, their two daughters, and his aunt's mom (I'm not complaining about this. They have a huge place and I have great accommodations. I just thought the situation itself was pretty funny).

* His other aunt decides to try to fix him up with a friend of hers, a Mexican immigrant with 5 kids, and won't take no for an answer.

Gotta love it.

Coming to a Theater Near Me: Me

I was watching TV tonight and saw another preview for the new Vince Vaughn/Jennifer Aniston romp, The Break Up. For those of you who have been faithful readers of my blog for any amount of time (or at least since last July) you'll recall that this is the movie on which I did some extra work while I was in Chicago.

The movie opens this weekend so if you happen to go out to see it, keep an eye peeled for me. There are 3 opportunities for you to see me (actually more like two, the third is a long shot).

1. Jennifer Aniston and the girl who plays her sister are walking along the boardwalk on Lake Michigan. They are walking directly toward the camera (camera man was walking backwards) and I and some other guy (as you look at the screen I will be the blader on the left) are behind them roller blading, also going toward the camera and after a short bit, we stop to rest. This is probably the scene with the highest probability of seeing me, so if you blink and miss it, kindly ask the projectionist at your local theater to rewind it.

2. The "Jennifer Aniston's sister" character is on the beach with a small child (I forget now if it was a little boy or girl) and there are a bunch of people in the background lounging. Me and another guy walk by in the background, moving from right to left as you look at the screen. I have on red shorts. Ladies, please, at least pretend like you don't recognize my legs immediately.

3. The other scene I worked on was at a ball game at Wrigley Field. I wasn't even near the camera. There's no way you're going to see me in this one.

So hey, while we're on the subject, if anyone reading this is in Indiana, wanna go to the movies Friday night?

Eat Your Heart Out, John Cougar Mellencamp

I was born in a small town...

...and then I moved away and lived in a bunch of big towns and then moved back to a small town and am really getting a kick out of it. So many things I probably saw a million times but never noticed. Just a completely different outlook.

I was talking to my buddy Dan in NYC and he told me he was getting visions of Doc Hollywood in his head. It's not that bad, but you can see it from here.

First of all, everyone waves. After spending time driving in LA traffic and walking the streets of New York I have grown accustomed to making eye contact with no one. And now all of a sudden people want me to wave at them. I don't want to wave at them. I just want to go.

So, Indiana friends, if you see me in a car and wave at me and I don't wave back, don't take offense. Chances are, I didn't even see you.

I also found out that the tousled just-got-outta bed look that was so prevalent in NY and Nashville is just that here in Indiana. It looks like you just got out of bed. And that's not a good thing.

This morning as I walked outside to head to work with Dad he said "You look terrible!"

"I do?" I asked.

"You look like you just woke up! You didn't shave! And why don't you comb your hair!" (Granted, without being able to hear his inflection he probably comes off sounding like a grumpy old man and that's totally not who he is; we Placencias are known for giving each other a hard time for anything we can think of).

We then went to have breakfast at a small local restaurant and the Police Captain (an old friend of the family) came in. Dad said, "You remember my son Ed, don't you?"

And without pausing, the guy looked at me and said, "Sure I do. It looks like you shaved with a Hershey bar."

And people wonder why this smalltown kid grew up and got into comedy.

Scared and Tan

So far, so good.

My time back home in Indiana has been very enjoyable. Yesterday I got straight to work helping out Dad with the business (although that sentence makes it sound like we have mob ties (I wish) I'm actually assisting with his painting business). That's right. No slouch here. I was up bright and early, ready to go, and ready to scrape and prime.

After a hard day's work Dad and I went home, cleaned up, and headed over to Auburn to catch my brother Ray's softball game. It was good to see him, his wife, and my little niece again. Afterwards Dad took us out to eat at my aunt's restaurant and I got to see my cousin Glen there working (or as close as he gets to actual work).

We closed the place down and then made our way to Ray's house. My lifelong buddy Todd showed up (we've known each other since we were 5) and we all had a nice time reconnecting and reminiscing.

Today I went in to the radio station for a bit of a meet and greet sort of thing. Apparently the guy there who told them he was leaving (he told them he was out the door about a month ago) still hasn't left, so the position I am waiting to fill isn't open yet. I had a great talk with the PD, though, and he had me go into the studio to record some test liners and what-have-you. He seemed very interested in my production work and even took me back into his office so he could re-watch all of my videos that I have online. So that was kinda cool. I ended up being there for over an hour. So right now the radio thing is on a wait-and-see basis, but he assured me as soon as the guy leaves and the slot is open, it's mine.

I wasn't too disappointed to not have a definite time frame. At least I'm working and making some money and that was definitely part of the plan when I moved here. I'm hoping to be able to move into an apartment soon (crashing at Dad's in the meantime, but Ed needs his dancing space) and also still on the lookout for a cheap car so any money flow coming in is good.

Today at work I faced my fear of heights again. For those of you who dont know, it's pretty bad. I'm good on a 6-foot stepladder but anything higher than that is pushing it. And today I faced the 24-foot scaffolding.

Good night was I freaked out. Fortunately Dad knows how paralyzing my fear is so he was cool about it. He had to go run some errands and left me to prime some spots on this house on the scaffolding. "Just get what you can and I'll get the rest," he told me. I tried to get a lot. But I didn't.

Climbing up there was no problem. I was zipping up like nobody's business. The problem was when I finally got to the top and had to sit up there and do work. The slight wobbling with every move; the constant inner thoughts reminding me how high I was; I totally psyched myself out. I was really angry with myself for being so freaked out, but my fear was stronger than my anger and it won out. I only got a pathetic amount done before climbing back down and I knew it was lame.

Stupid fear of heights.

Oh well. At least I'm getting tan.

Great Way To End The Week

Well, my week-long stay in Pennsylvania has been a most enjoyable one, I must say. It's been so much fun to see old friends again.

John and Lisa have been such gracious hosts during my stay here and it was nice to hang out with their son Alex and have a genuine excuse to act like a kid again. Thursday night Stacey, Ann, Mindy, Tom & Mel came over and we had a great time playing karaoke and DDR Max (and we also watched the episode of Without A Trace which, I am sad to report, you couldn't see me in).

Last night I got to visit with my Radio Friend Phil and then went to Ethan & Aubrey's house for dinner and conversation. Aub's parents and her little brother were there -- great people-- and it was really nice to see them again. After eating we watched some of the videos Ethan and I had been putting together and then just talked about life, love, and other mysteries.

Today was a great day to cap off a great week. Beautiful weather outside, and while Alex played in the backyard with a friend of his, John and I sat on the back porch and talked about life. Ethan and I went to a big barbecue the radio station was at, said hello to the whole gang, and then went to a little Irish pub called Wahtley's (which, I was sad to learn, is closing its doors soon). After that we went to see a comedian and then Ethan dropped me off back at John and Lisa's. John, Lisa, and I stayed up and watched some TV and did more talking.

I love these people here. They were what made it so hard to leave PA the first time.

Today while I was hanging out with Ethan he asked me if this week felt like a vacation or if I was sort of nervous about the big move back home. I told him neither. I definitely wasn't nervous. And it also didn't really feel like a vacation. It was kind of like I was taking care of unfinished business. I haven't seen these friends for about four and a half years, and that was wayyy too long. It was good to get back and do some real catching up.

I told myself it wouldn't be another 4 years before I saw them again. I ask you, Blog Reader, to help hold me to that.

On The Air Again

Had a really nice day yesterday. Got up bright and early at 4:30am to go in to the radio station with Lisa and see the gang at WJTL again. It was really great to see everyone. Fred, general manager of the station, co-hosts the morning show with Lisa and although I had originally gone in to just watch and hang out, he asked me to hop on the mic with them and it was fun to be back on the air. We even got a couple of really nice emails from listeners who remembered me from back when I worked there and it was encouraging.

I also got a chance to visit with most of the rest of the gang. It was fun getting to catch up with Stacey, Ann, John, and Darlene. I saw Stacey last year on my way into town as I journeyed to NYC, but hadn't seen the others in like 4-1/2 years.

On Wednesdays Lisa usually does the morning show alone, so I am going in today to co-host with her. Just like old times. When I first started at the station I was co-hosting the AM show with Lisa and it's been fun going back and hanging out again. John, Lisa, and Alex have been such great hosts and I am looking forward to a couple of evenings getting together with the gang and reconnecting.

Good times.

Movin' Right Along

Well, my journey to Indiana is underway.

My good buddy Ethan from Lancaster was able to pick me up yesterday afternoon and bring me back to Pennsylvania.

It was really good to get to spend some time with Ethan again on the ride home. Originally Ethan was going to bring me to John & Lisa's house, where I will be staying this week until Dad is able to make it out here and drag me the rest of the way back to Indiana. After realizing we wouldn't make it back to Lancaster until late, Ethan was kind enough to let me crash at his place so we wouldn't keep John & Lisa up late.

Ethan and I rolled into town around midnight and then we stayed up with his wife Aubrey talking until 4 in the morning. It was a great time to catch up and reconnect with some friends I very dearly missed. We all woke up today around noon and pitched in to create a mondo breakfast: strawberries, pancakes, omelettes, potatoes; it was great.

Ethan and I arrived here at John and Lisa's around 3:30 or so, unloaded all of my stuff, and it's been great getting to be with the Blowers' and their son Alex again. I am returning to WJTL tomorrow with Lisa and am very eager to see the gang at the radio station again. I'm looking forward to spending time with my PA buddies, many of whom I haven't seen in about 4 years.

I already miss my NY gang terribly but if there's any way to numb the pain of missing friends, it's by spending time with more friends.

Catch Ed this week in NYC, PA, and on CBS

Three ways to get your fill of Ed this week. Don't say I never gave you options.

1. It's my last weekend performing at the National Comedy Theatre before my move back to Indiana. I'm playing at all four shows this weekend, so come on out and have a laugh (or two). If I remember correctly, I will have just over 80 performances with NCT under my belt after this weekend. Not too bad, seeing as how my first performance with them was at Christmas. 80 shows in 5 months? Sweet.

B. Before I land in Indiana I will be spending a few days in Lancaster PA and will be co-hosting the Get Up and Go Show on WJTL with Lisa Landis Wednesday morning. If you're going to be up from 6 to 9AM, tune in. You can listen here.

4. Finally, the season finale of Without A Trace I worked on a couple of weeks ago is airing Thursday night at 10pm on CBS. I've never ever seen the show, so if you watch it and it turns out to be a lame series, sorry about that. There's a scene where someone shoots a gun and/or pulls a fire alarm at the FBI building. I am one of the evacuating FBI employees (wearing a grey shirt with sleeves rolled up and yellow tie). Depending on which takes they decide to use, I could either be walking right behind Anthony Lapaglia, or you see my back in the distance walking away from the camera. Who knows. Continuity didn't seem to be a major concern for them.

And that's where I'll be this week. Keep an eye on my YouTube site. I'll be adding a couple more videos there in the coming weeks, so stay tuned. They're guaranteed to be as cheesy and as hokey as what's already there.

Talk to you soon!

Yuppies Can't Wait

Today I went to the library to return the last of the books/DVDs I borrowed. As usual, there was a small line to return things, but it usually moves fairly fast and I wasn't there more than 5 minutes. As I was leaving I saw this guy get in line, shake his head, and then head for the exit.

He was your basic snooty-looking yuppie type (think James Spader in any movie from the 80s). You have to go through security on your way out of the library to ensure you're not stealing books. You give them the books you checked out, they check your receipt, look in your backpack, and that's it.

This guy started to walk through the detector things and then held up a plastic bag and said, "I have CDs."

"Did you get them from here?" the guard asked.

"Well," said Yuppie, "I was going to return them, but I'm not going to wait in that line."

"Do you have your receipts with you that you check them out?"

The yuppie got really mad and took his You-Don't-Know-Who-You're-Dealing-With stance. "No."

"Then you'll have to return the books. I can't let you leave with them without a receipt."

"I'm not waiting in line."

"Sir, you need your receipt, otherwise anyone could give me a story and just walk out with anything."

The Yuppie now took his How-Dare-You-Suggest-I-Wait-In-Line pose and said the most awesome line ever:

"This is preposterous."

What made it awesome was the fact that he didn't say it loudly or like he was upset. There was no exclamation point at the end of his sentence. He said it softly like he was giving someone the time or asking for a slice of cheese.

"This is preposterous. You know, but not preposterous enough for me to do anything about it."

The Yuppie was then made to go back into the library and return his CDs. Two points for the good guys.

New York friends: STOP BEING COOL

Tonight was yet another great night at the National Comedy Theatre. We had a couple of "preview" shows to kind of give the newbies a feel of running through an actual show and afterwards we all hung out a bit.

And doggonit if I didn't have a blast. I know I should be enjoying this time together but at the same time I find myself hating having fun because I know our time is limited and I don't want even more good times I'll look back on and miss. It's almost like I wish everyone would be a jerk to me so it would be easier to leave. But they're not. They're staying cool.

I know it'll be easier once I'm home and around my family again...Reconnecting with old friends...my brother and I already have some plans for our next video creation (stay tuned to my YouTube site!) so I'll kind of have that distance to help with missing my NYC friends. But right now everyone is still too close.

After we left the theater tonight a couple of people went to hang out at a bar and asked me to join but I declined because I knew I would have fun. I know, that doesn't make sense. I should be loving the fact that I'm having a blast my final week in New York. What kind of weird neurosis is this? I think I became a Jew without realizing it.

Woody Allen, eat your heart out.

Pros And Cons

I've moved around a lot in my life (as is evident by the many scribbled out entries under "P" in your address book) but never have I made a harder decision than the one I made this week.

I have a very nice opportunity at a radio station in Indiana and I am returning back to good ol' Dekalb County to pursue my radio chops once again (and there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth).

I haven't kept silent about how much I love New York and the friends I've made here in my blog and that certainly hasn't changed. Each time I leave a place, it's always the people I've met there that make it hard to go. Today, before I officially told anyone about my decision to leave NYC, Cohen from the National Comedy Theatre asked me to hang out with him. We called Jeff, another buddy from the theater to see if he wanted to hang out with us, and then Kevin, yet another NCT-er, called to see what we were doing and the four of us hung out in the Village for a bit. And it was such a cool, cool time. I was just kind of like Wow, thanks guys, for giving me an awesome time and making it even harder to leave.

Not that I'm not excited to make the journey. I'll be back in my home town in Indiana (quite a change from the Big Apple) and again near my friends and family. I am excited to hang out with my brother again. Definitely a highlight. It'll be nice to be nearer to Piper (his wife) and my awesome niece Valencia. And of course, hanging out with Dad again will be a great time. I am envisioning nights of The Great Dalmuti and Euchre. And of course, there are my cousins Glen and Jim and our buddy Kevin, with whom we formed Cousins Productions and would make goofy home movies (what's that? you haven't seen our stuff at YouTube ? And you haven't requested to be my friend so you can see secret videos not available to the general public? Well get going!). So that'll be fun.

But man, I'm gonna miss being at the theater each week and doing shows.

But I'll be able to get some footing financially and start saving some money.

But man, those guys at the theater are a blast to be around.

But I'll be able to see my grandmother on a regular basis, something I don't want to take for granted.

But man, I love my pals in New York.

If you know me, nothing is ever permanent and set in stone. I mean sheesh, since I moved away from Indiana in 1992 I've moved ELEVEN times. So who knows. Never say never, right?

Amy, Chris, Christine, Cohen, Dan, JT, Jacob, Jason, the other Jason, Jeff, Kevin, Magee, Paulie...(I'm forgetting some, I know and I apologize)...I know I'll cross paths with them some time . I just kinda wish I knew when.

Letterman and Tarantino

What a weird day today was.

This afternoon I went to my first taping of the Late Show with David Letterman. It was actually a lot of fun and I think what impressed me most was the band (of all things!). You get to hear a little bit of them in and out of commercials but these guys are actually really good! Dave was hilarious and I didn't have to fake any laughter. Until the guests came out.

Rosie Perez and some female Indy race car driver. Rosie Perez showed us all how stupid she really is, and the girl race car driver showed us how arrogant she was. I think the audience loathed her. I know I did. A lot of fun, though. I'd like to do it again sometime. Once the show got started, it really flew by.

After that I went to an audition for a showcase of monologues and scenes from various Tarantino movies. Dan, Jacob, and Jason from the National Comedy Theatre came along and we did a scene from Four Rooms. It went really well. A weird experience, though. It was hard to make out what this Italian guy running the auditions was saying. Afterward we kind of mutually agreed that we didn't know what to think.

Weird, huh? Fun, though. I enjoyed it.

Without A Number

Yesterday I worked on the season finale of Without A Trace here in downtown Manhattan. I've never seen the show, so I wasn't crazy stoked about being on the set, but I was definitely glad to get in more work.

It took place at a Chase bank that they had altered a bit to make look like an FBI building. They were only shooting the outside of the building and the rest of us were FBI employees evacuating the building.

It was a very efficient crew and we were on the set and working very quickly (comparatively). While on the set I met a really cool girl named Taisha from New Zealand. We had a good time chatting together but then we got separated and I didn't get a chance to get any more info from her to keep in touch. So...that was weak.

If by any chance you run into a kiwi artist named Taisha, tell her I said hey.