Why does 15 count as a starting point? Because when I was 15 I played in a bar for the first time and made cash. Since I wasn't just playing the Christmas recitals I can say that I've played professionally since I was 15.
I also recall the owner of this bar trying to hook me up with one of the waitresses who was probably 8 years older than me. My attempt to follow through with this was by asking a series of questions and making no real conversation.
I was 15, leave me the hell alone, I didn't know what I was doing!
Shit, I still don't.
I always find that funny though, the question based conversation.
You know a conversation is going no where when every follow up to a comment is a question, a tried desperate question hoping for a point where the conversation will be supported by discussion and argument, shared experience and hopeful connection.
I hope everyone's labor day rocked and was full of whatever it is you find entertaining.
I worked the entire weekend, which isn't a bad thing, I love what I do. Wednesday and Thursday I had a small part in a film. Both days took many hours, not getting out until 4 am. This was the best set I've been on though! It was Drew Barrymore's directorial debut, and she was an excellent director. It stars Ellen Page, who was very sweet, and very quiet.
The set was very fast paced and professional, but all of the PA's and crew members were amiable and fun.
The cast was great and seemed to be having a blast, I got to meet some wonderful people, listen to interesting stories, network and make some new friends.
The best part is working with people from previous shoots. Brandon new one of the PAs from a film he appeared in, and I got to work with this very funny guy, Chris, whom I had worked on a commercial with earlier in the year.
Friday we had a gig with Groove Party at Tee Bonez, and Sunday was a wedding in Detroit with an amazing sax player Paulio. The guy was incredible, and totally easy to work with. Paulio had that crisp sax sound like Bonny James or David Sanborn. It was very inspiring.
Now for the subject of this entry.
Even though my weekend was full of great stories, the only thing that came to mind when I was asked by a coworker this morning about my labor day was this:I had a run in with a smelly Pen.
Exactly how it sounds.
I went to my bank to deposit some checks at an ATM. After snatching up a deposit envelope, I found a pen that had been sitting in my door for god knows how long. As I began to fill in the appropriate boxes, a pungent smell became very evident.
At first I thought it was sewage outside, but realized it was coming from inside my car. I brought the pen up and under my nostrils and took a quick whiff.
This pen smelled like it came directly out of a Moose's ass.
I still needed to finish filling out the deposit slip, and that was the only pen in my car, so, holding my breath, i scribbled unreadable text onto the envelope and tossed the butt pen out the window.
I just realized that the term 'butt pens' almost looks like butt penis.
Let's just end this blog, 'k?
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