Damn this daylight saving time. Actually, I like the additional hour of sunlight in the spring. But this year we have it forced on us at a nontraditional time. Our computers and cell phones are unprepared, unprogrammed. In fact, my antiquated computer (a Mac G4, purchased four years ago, and still running on the original operating system) can't seem to update on it's own. I just now manually updated it's clock, 22 hours after the fact. Also, my cell phone didn't automatically reset. Well, it did, but only after I shut it down, and then rebooted it.
Anyway, last night after I returned from Saturday's shoot in Seguin, I checked my email. I discovered that my Short Ends location, which I felt so confident about, had evaporated. I now have no place to shoot this coming week. This really pissed me off. I decided to just go to sleep and worry about it later. I had a hard time falling asleep. I'd spent the day drinking coffee, as well as those tasty Starbucks bottled Frappuccinos. So, I was amped on caffeine. And it was also hot. I opened windows to get a cross breeze. And when that wasn't doing it, I hauled a fan from my closet. The fan was a nice touch, but then a dog started barking. So I had to put the fan on high, and aim it away from me so I wasn't trying to sleep in a wind tunnel. I had my cell phone (which I also use as my alarm clock) set to 5:30, so I could make my 6:30 call time at a grocery store downtown. (It's an up-market boutiquey grocery on Market across from the courthouse). I kept waking up, about every hour or two. And around 5am, I decided to just get up. I loaded my espresso machine, and began checking my email. And then I realized I hadn't reset my phone/alarm clock. Maybe it did it automatically. A quick internet check told me it was not five, but six.
I rushed through a shower, grabbed my coffee, and headed out.
I arrived late. I hate being late. Robin was there. Ezme had her make-up station set up. Anne had arrived — always dependable. Some of our child actors. And Erin. Erin is always on time. She puts us all to shame.
I unloaded some equipment, and found a parking space about six blocks away. Who would have thought so few parking meters would be free on a Sunday at 7am? Where were all those people?
Me, Kevin, and Mark set up about half our lights. But when Russ showed up (sometime after Rudolfo, but I'm not keeping score), he decided that the grocery store's practical lights, in combo with the sunlight through the floor to ceiling windows along one side wall, were just about perfect.
I left him and Robin to set up the first shot, and caught up with Tony and Dawn Boult. They showed up as extras. It's been over 6 months since I'd last seen them. They're looking great, and, of course, managed to kick up the fun quotient, in classic Boult-style.
Nikki arrived, not just in her capacity of child acting coach, but also as a featured extra. I watched as she wandered the aisles, with the same rhythm, the same actions, for each take. I sidled up to her between takes.
“Hey, Nikki, what's you're back story?”
Without a beat, she answered me. “I've just come from the gym.” Yep. She was wearing a maroon velour workout suit. “And I thought I stop and pick up something for dinner.”
“Ah,” I said, peeking into her basket. “I see you're serious about carbo-loading with a bag of hominy grits, and some Gatorade. So, what flavor sports drink goes best with grits?”
“Blueberry all the way,” she answered, looking up to see that Robin was setting up for a new take.
Kevin Grady (AKA Intern Kevin, AKA Other Kevin) today took a break from his role as the perfect production assistant, to play Stockboy Number One. He did a great job. I don't know if he has any thoughts of pursuing acting, but he held his own with Sherrie and Anne.
But probably the location's best performance was Cameron Wafford. As young Connor, he plays brat to the n-th degree. He was screaming for “candy, I want candy, and more candy,” as he flailed about and threw cans of food on the floor.
I left the location before the shoot was over. The second location of the day was back at my apartment. I needed to arrange my place to best recreate the previous week's shoot.
When the production caught up to me, we set up for a simple pickup shot as Kevin prepared lunch. I think the second half of the day went smoothly enough. Miss Patty had another scene. And after she wrapped, she gave us all hugs (also, for some lucky folks, back and shoulder massages), and as she was waving goodbye to us from her car, Cameron shouted to her from where he sat on the porch. “We Don't Salute, We Wave Like Queens!” And he lifted his hand as though to wave, and he rotated it back and forth, in the Queen Elizabeth manner.
This is the same campy, kooky child who will say, with a smile as sweet as it is evil: “I want to bomb the world with candy canes.”
I don't know where he gets this stuff.
We were shooting our final scene on my porch. I was pressed back out of the shot as I held a reflector, trying to bounce a bit of warm light on Dallin's face. Halfway through the take, some electronic device began to beep. Robin called “cut.” The beep wasn't my cell phone's ring, but I fished it from my pocket anyway. Well, it was me. But it was the alarm clock setting. I had inadvertently set it for 5:30pm, instead of 5:30am.
I had exposed myself as all kinds of stupid.