The Hollywood Holla Issue #6
By: Mike James
“What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them--that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works--whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account--to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day--because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.”
-President Barack Obama 1/20/09
A distrust of the government was instilled in me in a young age. My father taught me to ask constant questions and to rarely take people by their word, but rather by their action.
I remember the 2004 election like it was yesterday. After voting for John Kerry I returned to the TKE house in Franklin to watch the results with the rest of the uninformed majority. It was the first time ignorance was so vividly clear to me. I knew Bush had cued our country up for four more years of death, destruction and despair.
As the night wore on my opposition grew more aggressive and nihilistic. I began to drink heavier and feel the weight of oncoming defeat.
For eight years now our great country, that we share a supreme love for, has been pimped, raped, abused, robbed, conned, massacred, deceived, disrespected and tarnished.
The Bush Administration has caused more damage to the United States of America than any terrorist organization; natural disaster or foreign country has to date. It is my belief the biggest enemy of freedom was air lifted out of our nation’s capitol as of this afternoon.
My “awakening” into the world that we are living in came with the news of my good friend’s death Army Spc. Luke Frist. He was 20 years old. I had to have reasoning for his death. My government could provide none. I realized with further inquisition that there was no reason for my friend’s death beyond Luke’s own undying patriotism, which had been maliciously exploited by our Commander –in- Chief.
I felt cheated. I took on an “Us against Them” mentality which given the circumstances has become less defensive yet maintained. Today we have all experienced, in my mind, a Democratic Revolution. President Obama has made clear that the doubters and the non-believers will not be present in this revolution. The tide has already turned.
Get on the bus, or get left behind.
The greatest challenges lay ahead of us. But for the revolutionary mind, that is where the fun is had.
I have experienced so much in this journey to Hollywood. I’ve not only been able to provide a comfortable living for myself, full-time employment, good health and a little savings but I’ve thrived. I am eternally blessed to have the grandiose tales that I have to tell. However, on this night, the year of our Lord January the twentieth two thousand and nine, my stories of revelry and debauchery sound immensely inappropriate.
It is important to note the gratitude that we should all share not for this victory that is felt for the election of our President. We should be grateful for the opportunity at victory. We are a long way from the great national exhale. The road ahead will be unsure, frustrating and sometimes terrifying.
In the way our nation was unified by a message of hope we should solidify that ideal with a dedication to the message of persistence and resilience. Because if there is anything we can count on with the state or our nation, the state of our world and the state of each other’s own home’s is that it will get worse before it gets better.
We are all high on the euphoric waves of change. The idealism of true democracy, where everyone of any religious belief, gender, race or sexual orientation is granted his or her unalienable rights that is granted to them by God has been reawakened in our country. People dance in the streets across the world. T-shirts, hats, bobble heads and sex toys have been made in Obama’s image to celebrate this great man’s achievement.
I have but one question to ask…
Where will you be when “The Great Come-down” begins?
“I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.”
-Thomas Paine
I have read as much of Thomas Paine’s work as I can find. I admire and aspire to be the man that Thomas Paine was (or at least how I have imagined him to be). He was a true American Revolutionary. Even among his peers of radicals he was branded a radical. A “wild man” whose certainty of his own beliefs penetrated any social more of the times, he would not yield to counter opinion.
I have crafted a similar path for myself in Hollywood. I am currently writing a comedy series entitled “Stealing Channel Seven”. As the days and the months go on I learn more. The more I learn, the more impossible I find that my dream is. It doesn’t deter me in the slightest bit. It only gets more fun. I will sell a script. I will sell many scripts.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and New Year’s. I had an amazing cruise with my family and an incredible time in Vail, CO.
I hope this message finds everyone well.
My favorite author tortured himself for years with Fear & Loathing at the prospect of the Death of the American Dream. His paranoia and defiant attitude lit a fire in me that burns brighter than ever today. Unfortunately, the Good Doctor took his own life before he was able to witness this day.
My experience has taught me that the American Dream is not dead. My experience has also taught me that the American Dream was not birthed in Washington. It has nothing to do with our government, nothing at all.
It has everything to do with that the simple fact that we are Americans and our grandfathers, fathers and sons died for something they believed in. In the many wars, whether justified or unjustified, our country has fought.
Americans are natural revolutionaries. Our nation was founded on violent revolution and it was imbedded in our nation’s DNA.
Enjoy this honeymoon but be prepared. Not to be prepared to take back what was promised to us would be out of character.
With Love and Respect,
Mike James
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The Hollywood Holla November 2nd 2008
Mike James
2034 Argyle Ave. Apt. 303
Hollywood, CA 90068
The Hollywood Holla Issue #5
November The Second In The Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Eight.
• The Great Journey: “Taste” from script to screen
• Notorious Hollywood PA: “Mike James Live” from Genghis Cohen in Hollywood “Chinese Food on time and with a smile!”
• Lark Vorhees answer my phone calls!!!
It’s not normal that the host of the show talks to the PA on set. It never really crossed my mind seeing as I have yet to experience anything anyone else would begin to consider “normal” since arriving in Los Angeles. I however have a way with people so I wasn’t surprised that the Emmy nominated host of “America’s Funniest Video’s” and “Dancing With the Stars” took an immediate liking to me.
It might have been how I delivered him coffee.
Grande coffee with two Splenda’s and low fat milk?
Yes, thank you Mike. Did you already add the milk?
Yes Tom, I went ahead and took care of that for you.
Well thank you.
I know just how much milk you like. Go ahead Tom Bergeron, try it.
(Tom tries his Starbucks coffee)
Umm. That’s good.
Oh, I know it is Tom Bergeron. I know it is.
I naturally like to inform absolutely everyone around me of any celebration, regardless if it’s worth celebrating or not, because I love to party. So, I told everyone with two ears when my birthday was coming up. I had to work on my birthday. We were on set shooting 1905 (which aired tonight ironically) and everyone wished me a happy birthday before I headed out on the town with some buddies.
It was a great birthday. But I would prefer to recall the events of my 23rd birthday in the same way that I recalled them to Tom Bergeron when he asked me how my birthday was the following Saturday.
I was sitting next to Jenni (the other AFV PA) on a chair behind the producers and writers off to the side of the stage. During the taping of the shows we really do not have anything to do what so ever but sit. It’s incredibly exciting (enter sarcastic look here) and demanding (enter dramatic wiping of my sweaty brow here).
The best part of being on set is making wise cracks with the writers and of course, watching the funny videos. But! Once in awhile Tom Bergeron will come around and talk to us pitiful PA’s. Like when he asked me how my birthday went.
I didn’t hesitate in telling him exactly how my birthday went down. Granted, it wasn’t exactly your typical birthday.
EDITORIAL NOTE:
(The following plays out exactly as it is written. This is a true story. This is not my normal exaggeration for comedic purposes.)
Tom Bergeron leans over his director’s chair looking down at the PA not paying attention, staring off sitting in the much smaller chair behind him.
So Mike how was your birthday?
Oh, it was great Tom! I went to a lesbian strip club.
What?!
Yea it was a great birthday. My buddies took me out for sushi, then to this lesbian strip club in Little Armenia, then we hit up a few bars in Hollywood before crashing out.
You have to tell me about this lesbian strip club.
Well Tom, I would love to tell you about the lesbian strip club.
The PA then leans forward to be able to tell the host about the lesbian strip club but the chair he is sitting on slips out from under him due to the slick concrete. The PA falls on his ass while telling Tom Bergeron about the lesbian strip club he went to on his birthday.
Producers, writers, concerned people on set rush to the aid of the PA.
I’m ok! I’m ok.
The PA rolls on the ground laughing histerically while others look on in amazement at what just happened.
Did anyone get that on video? Did anyone get what just happened
The PA said while attempting to gather himself and his pride. Tom Bergeron then wipes his eyes from the tears of laughter. The make-up artist rushes to fix it before he comments on the events.
I’m sorry you would not be eligible for the $100,000 grand prize if they were.
The PA slowly sits back into his unsteady chair with every set of eyes on set burning holes in his clumsy shell of a body.
Should I finish the story?
Yes! Yes! Finish the story if you can buckle yourself in. I want to hear the rest!
The PA goes on to tell Tom Bergeron about Jumbo’s Clown Room in Little Armenia, the lesbian strip club. The PA didn’t know it was a lesbian strip club. The PA didn’t know much about any strip clubs in LA. His buddies told him it was the best strip club in LA.
That’s why it’s funny.
I forgot to mention Courtney Love used to dance there. Eww.
I would go on and tell you about the rest of my birthday but it would pale in comparison to falling on your ass in front of an Emmy nominated television host while telling him you went to a lesbian strip club on your birthday.
How could you make this shit up?
I’ll take a left turn now and get serious. I finished the script. Wait…we finished the script. Herman and I.
It’s incredible. There are grammatical corrections, a few lines that need to be made funnier and a couple other places that need buffed out and then absolute completion. For now.
My Dad passed along the best advice I’ve yet to hear on how to write a compelling story. He said “writing a good narrative is easy. You just get a sharp object cut open a vein and let it all drain out on to the page.”
In the bull shit world of Hollywood never truer words have been said. I have literally drained my soul into this script. It’s the equivalent of me standing on the corner of Hollywood and Vine with a megaphone saying “Hello world! I am here!” over and over again.
As much as I would love to disclose so much about this story that is interwoven with the last year of my life so dramatically, I can not.
I would much prefer making you bastards pay $12 bucks a year from now to see it in theaters than attach my baby in an email. But since I know the growing anticipation for my epic I have attached a thrown-together movie poster I did this afternoon, to satisfy your taste.
I’m now moving on to the next phase of this journey, getting my script out there. We have a few people already anticipating it and a few we hope will welcome it with open arms. I have a carefully laid out a plan that is right on track. In fact I’m ahead of where I wanted to be when we set out.
This film is getting made.
On any of these streets from Argyle to Cahuenga, south of Melrose and west of La Brea, a story is waiting to be found. The civic lines that mark off the blocks that make up Tinsel Town do not keep outsiders out. The impenetrable force that makes up the great walls of Hollywood can yet be penetrated.
I read a news story from a UK news outlet, The Observer, recently. It stated that a pot recently excavated from a site in ancient Israel may give historical fact to the biblical story of David defeating Goliath.
As a journalist I rely on facts. The fact that David defeated Goliath was no surprise to me but it was an assurance.
The idea is overwhelming at first but after you put yourself in young King David’s shoes it’s not so bad. As a Road Man for the Lords of Karma I’ve found myself matched against much stronger, much faster, much smarter opponents than I many times. I have always been heavily armed though. Screw sling-shots. I have every intention of making a career out of fucking Goliath up.
With Love and Respect….
Your friend,
Mike James
2034 Argyle Ave. Apt. 303
Hollywood, CA 90068
The Hollywood Holla Issue #5
November The Second In The Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Eight.
• The Great Journey: “Taste” from script to screen
• Notorious Hollywood PA: “Mike James Live” from Genghis Cohen in Hollywood “Chinese Food on time and with a smile!”
• Lark Vorhees answer my phone calls!!!
It’s not normal that the host of the show talks to the PA on set. It never really crossed my mind seeing as I have yet to experience anything anyone else would begin to consider “normal” since arriving in Los Angeles. I however have a way with people so I wasn’t surprised that the Emmy nominated host of “America’s Funniest Video’s” and “Dancing With the Stars” took an immediate liking to me.
It might have been how I delivered him coffee.
Grande coffee with two Splenda’s and low fat milk?
Yes, thank you Mike. Did you already add the milk?
Yes Tom, I went ahead and took care of that for you.
Well thank you.
I know just how much milk you like. Go ahead Tom Bergeron, try it.
(Tom tries his Starbucks coffee)
Umm. That’s good.
Oh, I know it is Tom Bergeron. I know it is.
I naturally like to inform absolutely everyone around me of any celebration, regardless if it’s worth celebrating or not, because I love to party. So, I told everyone with two ears when my birthday was coming up. I had to work on my birthday. We were on set shooting 1905 (which aired tonight ironically) and everyone wished me a happy birthday before I headed out on the town with some buddies.
It was a great birthday. But I would prefer to recall the events of my 23rd birthday in the same way that I recalled them to Tom Bergeron when he asked me how my birthday was the following Saturday.
I was sitting next to Jenni (the other AFV PA) on a chair behind the producers and writers off to the side of the stage. During the taping of the shows we really do not have anything to do what so ever but sit. It’s incredibly exciting (enter sarcastic look here) and demanding (enter dramatic wiping of my sweaty brow here).
The best part of being on set is making wise cracks with the writers and of course, watching the funny videos. But! Once in awhile Tom Bergeron will come around and talk to us pitiful PA’s. Like when he asked me how my birthday went.
I didn’t hesitate in telling him exactly how my birthday went down. Granted, it wasn’t exactly your typical birthday.
EDITORIAL NOTE:
(The following plays out exactly as it is written. This is a true story. This is not my normal exaggeration for comedic purposes.)
Tom Bergeron leans over his director’s chair looking down at the PA not paying attention, staring off sitting in the much smaller chair behind him.
So Mike how was your birthday?
Oh, it was great Tom! I went to a lesbian strip club.
What?!
Yea it was a great birthday. My buddies took me out for sushi, then to this lesbian strip club in Little Armenia, then we hit up a few bars in Hollywood before crashing out.
You have to tell me about this lesbian strip club.
Well Tom, I would love to tell you about the lesbian strip club.
The PA then leans forward to be able to tell the host about the lesbian strip club but the chair he is sitting on slips out from under him due to the slick concrete. The PA falls on his ass while telling Tom Bergeron about the lesbian strip club he went to on his birthday.
Producers, writers, concerned people on set rush to the aid of the PA.
I’m ok! I’m ok.
The PA rolls on the ground laughing histerically while others look on in amazement at what just happened.
Did anyone get that on video? Did anyone get what just happened
The PA said while attempting to gather himself and his pride. Tom Bergeron then wipes his eyes from the tears of laughter. The make-up artist rushes to fix it before he comments on the events.
I’m sorry you would not be eligible for the $100,000 grand prize if they were.
The PA slowly sits back into his unsteady chair with every set of eyes on set burning holes in his clumsy shell of a body.
Should I finish the story?
Yes! Yes! Finish the story if you can buckle yourself in. I want to hear the rest!
The PA goes on to tell Tom Bergeron about Jumbo’s Clown Room in Little Armenia, the lesbian strip club. The PA didn’t know it was a lesbian strip club. The PA didn’t know much about any strip clubs in LA. His buddies told him it was the best strip club in LA.
That’s why it’s funny.
I forgot to mention Courtney Love used to dance there. Eww.
I would go on and tell you about the rest of my birthday but it would pale in comparison to falling on your ass in front of an Emmy nominated television host while telling him you went to a lesbian strip club on your birthday.
How could you make this shit up?
I’ll take a left turn now and get serious. I finished the script. Wait…we finished the script. Herman and I.
It’s incredible. There are grammatical corrections, a few lines that need to be made funnier and a couple other places that need buffed out and then absolute completion. For now.
My Dad passed along the best advice I’ve yet to hear on how to write a compelling story. He said “writing a good narrative is easy. You just get a sharp object cut open a vein and let it all drain out on to the page.”
In the bull shit world of Hollywood never truer words have been said. I have literally drained my soul into this script. It’s the equivalent of me standing on the corner of Hollywood and Vine with a megaphone saying “Hello world! I am here!” over and over again.
As much as I would love to disclose so much about this story that is interwoven with the last year of my life so dramatically, I can not.
I would much prefer making you bastards pay $12 bucks a year from now to see it in theaters than attach my baby in an email. But since I know the growing anticipation for my epic I have attached a thrown-together movie poster I did this afternoon, to satisfy your taste.
I’m now moving on to the next phase of this journey, getting my script out there. We have a few people already anticipating it and a few we hope will welcome it with open arms. I have a carefully laid out a plan that is right on track. In fact I’m ahead of where I wanted to be when we set out.
This film is getting made.
On any of these streets from Argyle to Cahuenga, south of Melrose and west of La Brea, a story is waiting to be found. The civic lines that mark off the blocks that make up Tinsel Town do not keep outsiders out. The impenetrable force that makes up the great walls of Hollywood can yet be penetrated.
I read a news story from a UK news outlet, The Observer, recently. It stated that a pot recently excavated from a site in ancient Israel may give historical fact to the biblical story of David defeating Goliath.
As a journalist I rely on facts. The fact that David defeated Goliath was no surprise to me but it was an assurance.
The idea is overwhelming at first but after you put yourself in young King David’s shoes it’s not so bad. As a Road Man for the Lords of Karma I’ve found myself matched against much stronger, much faster, much smarter opponents than I many times. I have always been heavily armed though. Screw sling-shots. I have every intention of making a career out of fucking Goliath up.
With Love and Respect….
Your friend,
Mike James
Hollywood Holla Issue #4
"Love without pain is like food without taste."
-Marquis De Sade
*NOTES FROM THE HOLLYWOOD BOTTOM
*DIG TWO HOLES; ONE FOR YOUR HEAD AND ONE FOR YOUR MONEY, IT'S ABOUT TO GET UGLY
*WELCOME TO HOLLYWOOD BABY, THIS IS THE 21ST CENTURY…ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN
It was in the Denver International Airport, at the end of January, when I initially realized the harsh realities I would now have no choice but to face. I had long ago passed the point of no return. I remember it like it only happened a moment ago. As usual I had drank extravagantly the night before and had over slept my flight. I awoke on the floor of a room, which was clearly not mine because my associate and I had been kicked out of my 7th floor Holiday Inn Suite in Santa Monica over looking the famous pier the night before for noise complaints and smoking copious amounts of ganja.
The manager of the Holiday Inn was most accommodating. He allowed a total of ten minutes between my allowed departure from my suite and the contacting the authorities. This is a gesture I have yet to forget.
I remember exactly what caused the calamity with excruciating memory. It was a sensitive time. I had recently been removed from Franklin College's January term class, photojournalism in The Amazon and Brazil, for admitting to smoking marijuana on the beach in Bahia.
Two whole days I had in Brazil before I was promptly removed for making a sincere and direct effort to learn, connect and grow from the environment around me. Friends, I write to you tonight with a message. I write to the people that matter to me the most in my life about what it is that I live for. Why is it that I am who I am and do what I do? Why is Mike James, Mike James?
I write to the only people that I care to make it aware that I am alive, regardless of each individual reaction to this e-mail, to know that I am very much alive and thriving.
Yesterday was my 23rd birthday. I am 23 years old now, wow.
I was on my way back to Indiana from LA at the end of January when I was collecting my thoughts in Denver Int'l. I put up a Facebook message that was nothing out of the ordinary. Something that went like…
Mike is…"posted up hollerin at biatches in Denver."
Nothing that would raise concern or attention from anyone that knew me. But it did raise a lot of concern and attention, from myself.
I was very much a different person when I returned from Los Angeles last summer and I was even more of a different person when I returned from being kicked out of Brazil after being there only a couple days. As anyone that has ever known me for more than a few minutes they are aware that I wear my heart and soul on my sleeve. It defines who I am. I can say this with the utmost confidence I have ever stated anything in my life.
This is the GREATEST challenge I have ever faced in my life.
I have been alone before. My years after Val died were all spent alone until I met a few good friends. That set the model for the rest of my life. A few people that made me laugh and feel better about myself. A few people that laughed at the same thing I laughed at. A few people that listened to the same kind of music I listened to. I few people that hung out at the same places I hung out at. I'm now realizing how much I have relied on these people, not just for emotional support but also to be able to function. I'm realizing who Mike is…just as Mike.
My conclusion is he is not as good without his family and friends, never will be. There isn't a shot in hell any of this would have happened if a few people along the way thought I was worth a shit. This isn't mine alone!
I was terrified when I returned to Franklin for spring semester senior year. I felt like a failure. I collapsed into a dark hole of depression and alcohol that was all too familiar to me. Then I emailed Professor Nuwer. I made the initiative to ask him for an internship for the spring semester. He directed me to Indianapolis Monthly Magazine where I worked for the dining section.
I knew I had to do something or the idle time would get me into trouble. So I threw myself into the world of fine dining. The world I discovered was fascinating, everything was new. Trying to convince everyone around me that I had an advanced palate and the experience to back it was a challenge. I've always been an adventurous eater but never ate anything beyond pizza and sandwiches or a variation of the two, on a regular basis.
I felt like a food writer with no taste.
I am constantly exhausted, frustrated, lonely and separated from anything that I could ever consider home. I love every excruciating minute of it.
I have started a new chapter in my life and thus had to make the appropriate steps to ensure that this life, which I have professed I would live vocally so many times in the past, is what I say it is.
My lifestyle has changed dramatically. That was the first adjustment. When I first came out here I had graduation money and the buzz of an incomprehensible dream that was literally just down the street. Then the bills came. Then the parking tickets came. Then my car was broke into. Then I was taken for almost two thousand dollars by a bad investment. Then I was almost fired, twice. Welcome to Hollywood son, this is not a safe place.
My favorite author, as many of you know once said this about the music business:
"The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side."
Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, a journalist who has influenced my writing and ideals over the years hit the nail on the head. This quote can also be applied to the entertainment industry as a whole.
I am a production assistant for Vin di Bona Productions, helping produce the 19th season of America's Funniest Home Videos premiering on ABC October 4th 2008. I am in daily worry that I will lose my place in line. I am in constant concern if I will be able to make rent the next month. I have trained my body to be able to thrive on a banana or bagel with cream cheese (if I'm lucky) in the morning, a small ham & cheese sandwich with mayo and two-week old macaroni salad for lunch, four 8-ounce Red Bulls through out the day, eight 12-ounce Tecante beers a night, a slice of pepperoni from Raffalo's pizza after I finally find a parking space. I then go directly to my computer where I write until I no longer can do so. Before I collapse, I pop in a DVD or turn on Sportscenter at 4 in the morning. A few hours of sleep then I'm doing the same damn thing the next day.
There are times where I can literally feel my soul draining out of me.
For so long, probably since my sister died, I have surrounded myself with as many people as I could. I have groomed and tailored my ego for everything leading up to this. I've spent my whole life with no real group to associate with, no real clique that claimed me as their own, never a jock, never a punk, never a prep, just Mike. It was incredibly lonely for so long.
Having a place and purpose in this world cannot be underestimated.
I was shaking when the stewardess came through.
"Can I get you something to drink sweetie?" the stewardess said with empathy, seeing my clearly visual anxiety of being on the plane back to Indianapolis.
"Coffee. Black." I said as I closed the seat back in front of me with every bit of anger that flowed through me.
"Are you 21?" the stewardess asked me sensing my anxiety and my thirst for bourbon.
"Yes! I don't want a drink though. I don't need it. I used to drink hard but not anymore I got my head straight." I said as I waved her off.
"But you're so young. Why would you need to?" she exclaimed sympathetically.
"I am wise beyond my years. I am God's own experiment. I am a Road-man for the Lords of Karma."
She looked at me with alarm. Then she pushed her cart on to the next line of seats and continued her almost mechanical recitation of the Northwest Airlines soft-drink-giving speech.
"How will they treat me? How will they look at me? Am I self-absorbed asshole? Am I actually crazy?"
These were all questions that continually ran through my mind as I waited in the Denver International Airport for a chance ride on the waiting list to Indianapolis after missing my flight by three and a half hours.
I had just finished throwing up in the men's room after trying unsuccessfully to get down a sandwich, I purchased with a copy of the daily newspaper just a few feet from my gate. I brushed my teeth with my tiny travel toothbrush, obviously specifically designed for being used when extremely hung over and extremely late for a flight when thousands of miles from home, completely broke.
I had blown every last penny that I had for my "self-discovery expedition" to Brazil. I paid for four nights and five days of the Honeymoon Suite at the Santa Monica Holiday Inn and only stayed a night before being asked to leave. A trend had clearly formed.
My second exodus from an establishment offering a service I had pre-paid for occurring in no less than a month was ill timed.
Walking alone down Santa Monica Pier, a failure, the last thing in the entire world that I wanted was trouble or any kind. Knowledge I had blown my shot at New York and brought shame upon the journalism department for being a leading staff writer as well as a known drug user. I was in shambles.
I reached the end of the pier and posted for sometime. I then heard someone really loud behind me yell:
"Hey you, with the crazy hair, you want to smoke a blunt?"
This is how I met Tex (I'll call him Tex because he is in fact from Texas). I don't know how I attract these people, but I sure as hell do. To give you a quick reference of the type of person that aided my removal from the Santa Monica Holliday Inn in January, I will elaborate on a few key details.
He has had an on-again-off-again relationship with Jerry Rice's daughter, Ja Qui Rice, for some months. From going out a couple times with them I can tell you she is a really cool, chill girl. Tex however is bat-shit crazy. In the last few months my escapades with him have included:
*Making death threats against 30 Seconds To Mars' junkie manager for stealing thousands of dollars of stereo equipment from his apartment to pay off Jared Leto's debt.
·
*Throwing a beer can at Dee Snider because it could lead to the start of his own reality show.
· *Conning a virgin Indian we met at the bar into giving us 300 dollars cash to take him to Crazy Girls and show him how a real woman looks without a burkha.
· *Then recently he was fired from the Beverly Wilshire (where he made $400 in tips an afternoon as a door man) for sexual harassment on an unnamed celebrity. It was settled out-of-court.
I guess the whole point here is this guy is the first friend I made in Los Angeles. I was hopeless and desperate to make something of myself, & the life I dreamed of living. He didn't give a shit. He just wanted to high. It was a welcomed relief.
We talked about ridiculous things. Some of the discussion would evolve to be the beginnings of the script I'm currently working on. The hysterical moment that took place in that very smoky suite, paid for with Brazil money, was Tex knocking himself out cold. We were smoking, steady for a while; not giving a care to the world of anything that was taking place beyond my suite over looking the ocean.
Then there was a loud knocking at the door.
I looked through the peephole then turned around and said "It's a guy with a badge. But don't worry I don't think he's a real cop."
My words weren't reassuring to me new-found-friend, Tex. He had a history with the police and was going to avoid a confrontation at all costs. He immediately began to look for a place to hide. He made a desperate move to evade what he thought was absolute doom.
We were going to jail. This was the end. Finally I had pushed it too far and I was going to be locked up. In fact I supported the notion. A maniac like me shouldn't be running the streets.
Tex dove to hide himself under the bed. The only thing is that it's impossible to hide under the bed seeing as hotel beds prevent this with a running board around the frame of the bed.
Tex tried jumping underneath the bed as soon as the General Manager started knocking on room # 703, my suite.
Tex did not know about the bed. He leaped to hide underneath it and knocked himself out completely out cold. I smoothed it over with the manager, graciously thanking him for not showing up with police. He said to be out of the room in ten minutes. He looked over the room and let up a little bit apologizing for yelling at me.
"It's okay sir, I'm used to this. Standard operating procedure."
"Right. By the way, is he ok?"
Tex was laying face down on the floor with his head only slightly hidden by the bed's comforter. He might have been bleeding.
"He's sleepy."
I smiled and closed the door. I packed my bag as fast as I could while kicking Tex in the process trying to wake the crazed man. I went out the back through the kitchen, maintaining my composure.
"Off to a great start Mike" I thought to myself as I jumped on a bus and sat next to a pretty brunette with brown eyes.
I could go on with other stories but I will save them for another time. Instead I will include a scene I wrote the other night for the script. I'm at 72 pages and the walls of my apartment are covered with Post-It notes and index cards. It's pure magic.
The following is a monologue I wrote the other night. It is the final scene of the first act. It's a flashback to Mason's college days when he has the lust for life that propelled him to the success he is currently experiencing. Mason meets and falls for Kate, a fellow art student, instantly. She is stunningly beautiful. She is the reason that Mason chooses to derail his carefully laid plans when she comes back into his life 10 years after their meeting at the gallery in Los Angeles. This is just a little taste.
Enjoy.
Mason walks over to the painting. He stands to the left of it then he walks over and stands at the right of it. Then he walks a couple feet back and squints at it for a minute. He slowly starts to smile as he walks up to the painting.
MASON
This piece right here is life.
KATE
Gotta do better than that.
Kate shakes her head.
MASON
It is. You see life is pointillism. It's one huge picture made up of dots. Every portion of the piece is carefully pre-gridded out before the first brush stroke hits. Each dot of color is an experience in your life, whether it be good or bad is irrelevant because the color of the dot is what matters. At the time it may not make any sense why it's the color that it is but it serves a purpose. Each and every single little dot in the piece has significance. Each dot carries equal importance. Because alone it's just a dot. But together it becomes the entire picture that is your life. Whether the picture is dull or bright is up to the artist. Signac had faith that each one of his tiny dots mattered and he knew that not one of them could be wasted. The end result is a magnificent painting. The end result is life.
KATE
Let's get out of here.
Mason and Kate run out of the gallery hand in hand.
Your friend till the end,
Mike James
"Love without pain is like food without taste."
-Marquis De Sade
*NOTES FROM THE HOLLYWOOD BOTTOM
*DIG TWO HOLES; ONE FOR YOUR HEAD AND ONE FOR YOUR MONEY, IT'S ABOUT TO GET UGLY
*WELCOME TO HOLLYWOOD BABY, THIS IS THE 21ST CENTURY…ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN
It was in the Denver International Airport, at the end of January, when I initially realized the harsh realities I would now have no choice but to face. I had long ago passed the point of no return. I remember it like it only happened a moment ago. As usual I had drank extravagantly the night before and had over slept my flight. I awoke on the floor of a room, which was clearly not mine because my associate and I had been kicked out of my 7th floor Holiday Inn Suite in Santa Monica over looking the famous pier the night before for noise complaints and smoking copious amounts of ganja.
The manager of the Holiday Inn was most accommodating. He allowed a total of ten minutes between my allowed departure from my suite and the contacting the authorities. This is a gesture I have yet to forget.
I remember exactly what caused the calamity with excruciating memory. It was a sensitive time. I had recently been removed from Franklin College's January term class, photojournalism in The Amazon and Brazil, for admitting to smoking marijuana on the beach in Bahia.
Two whole days I had in Brazil before I was promptly removed for making a sincere and direct effort to learn, connect and grow from the environment around me. Friends, I write to you tonight with a message. I write to the people that matter to me the most in my life about what it is that I live for. Why is it that I am who I am and do what I do? Why is Mike James, Mike James?
I write to the only people that I care to make it aware that I am alive, regardless of each individual reaction to this e-mail, to know that I am very much alive and thriving.
Yesterday was my 23rd birthday. I am 23 years old now, wow.
I was on my way back to Indiana from LA at the end of January when I was collecting my thoughts in Denver Int'l. I put up a Facebook message that was nothing out of the ordinary. Something that went like…
Mike is…"posted up hollerin at biatches in Denver."
Nothing that would raise concern or attention from anyone that knew me. But it did raise a lot of concern and attention, from myself.
I was very much a different person when I returned from Los Angeles last summer and I was even more of a different person when I returned from being kicked out of Brazil after being there only a couple days. As anyone that has ever known me for more than a few minutes they are aware that I wear my heart and soul on my sleeve. It defines who I am. I can say this with the utmost confidence I have ever stated anything in my life.
This is the GREATEST challenge I have ever faced in my life.
I have been alone before. My years after Val died were all spent alone until I met a few good friends. That set the model for the rest of my life. A few people that made me laugh and feel better about myself. A few people that laughed at the same thing I laughed at. A few people that listened to the same kind of music I listened to. I few people that hung out at the same places I hung out at. I'm now realizing how much I have relied on these people, not just for emotional support but also to be able to function. I'm realizing who Mike is…just as Mike.
My conclusion is he is not as good without his family and friends, never will be. There isn't a shot in hell any of this would have happened if a few people along the way thought I was worth a shit. This isn't mine alone!
I was terrified when I returned to Franklin for spring semester senior year. I felt like a failure. I collapsed into a dark hole of depression and alcohol that was all too familiar to me. Then I emailed Professor Nuwer. I made the initiative to ask him for an internship for the spring semester. He directed me to Indianapolis Monthly Magazine where I worked for the dining section.
I knew I had to do something or the idle time would get me into trouble. So I threw myself into the world of fine dining. The world I discovered was fascinating, everything was new. Trying to convince everyone around me that I had an advanced palate and the experience to back it was a challenge. I've always been an adventurous eater but never ate anything beyond pizza and sandwiches or a variation of the two, on a regular basis.
I felt like a food writer with no taste.
I am constantly exhausted, frustrated, lonely and separated from anything that I could ever consider home. I love every excruciating minute of it.
I have started a new chapter in my life and thus had to make the appropriate steps to ensure that this life, which I have professed I would live vocally so many times in the past, is what I say it is.
My lifestyle has changed dramatically. That was the first adjustment. When I first came out here I had graduation money and the buzz of an incomprehensible dream that was literally just down the street. Then the bills came. Then the parking tickets came. Then my car was broke into. Then I was taken for almost two thousand dollars by a bad investment. Then I was almost fired, twice. Welcome to Hollywood son, this is not a safe place.
My favorite author, as many of you know once said this about the music business:
"The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side."
Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, a journalist who has influenced my writing and ideals over the years hit the nail on the head. This quote can also be applied to the entertainment industry as a whole.
I am a production assistant for Vin di Bona Productions, helping produce the 19th season of America's Funniest Home Videos premiering on ABC October 4th 2008. I am in daily worry that I will lose my place in line. I am in constant concern if I will be able to make rent the next month. I have trained my body to be able to thrive on a banana or bagel with cream cheese (if I'm lucky) in the morning, a small ham & cheese sandwich with mayo and two-week old macaroni salad for lunch, four 8-ounce Red Bulls through out the day, eight 12-ounce Tecante beers a night, a slice of pepperoni from Raffalo's pizza after I finally find a parking space. I then go directly to my computer where I write until I no longer can do so. Before I collapse, I pop in a DVD or turn on Sportscenter at 4 in the morning. A few hours of sleep then I'm doing the same damn thing the next day.
There are times where I can literally feel my soul draining out of me.
For so long, probably since my sister died, I have surrounded myself with as many people as I could. I have groomed and tailored my ego for everything leading up to this. I've spent my whole life with no real group to associate with, no real clique that claimed me as their own, never a jock, never a punk, never a prep, just Mike. It was incredibly lonely for so long.
Having a place and purpose in this world cannot be underestimated.
I was shaking when the stewardess came through.
"Can I get you something to drink sweetie?" the stewardess said with empathy, seeing my clearly visual anxiety of being on the plane back to Indianapolis.
"Coffee. Black." I said as I closed the seat back in front of me with every bit of anger that flowed through me.
"Are you 21?" the stewardess asked me sensing my anxiety and my thirst for bourbon.
"Yes! I don't want a drink though. I don't need it. I used to drink hard but not anymore I got my head straight." I said as I waved her off.
"But you're so young. Why would you need to?" she exclaimed sympathetically.
"I am wise beyond my years. I am God's own experiment. I am a Road-man for the Lords of Karma."
She looked at me with alarm. Then she pushed her cart on to the next line of seats and continued her almost mechanical recitation of the Northwest Airlines soft-drink-giving speech.
"How will they treat me? How will they look at me? Am I self-absorbed asshole? Am I actually crazy?"
These were all questions that continually ran through my mind as I waited in the Denver International Airport for a chance ride on the waiting list to Indianapolis after missing my flight by three and a half hours.
I had just finished throwing up in the men's room after trying unsuccessfully to get down a sandwich, I purchased with a copy of the daily newspaper just a few feet from my gate. I brushed my teeth with my tiny travel toothbrush, obviously specifically designed for being used when extremely hung over and extremely late for a flight when thousands of miles from home, completely broke.
I had blown every last penny that I had for my "self-discovery expedition" to Brazil. I paid for four nights and five days of the Honeymoon Suite at the Santa Monica Holiday Inn and only stayed a night before being asked to leave. A trend had clearly formed.
My second exodus from an establishment offering a service I had pre-paid for occurring in no less than a month was ill timed.
Walking alone down Santa Monica Pier, a failure, the last thing in the entire world that I wanted was trouble or any kind. Knowledge I had blown my shot at New York and brought shame upon the journalism department for being a leading staff writer as well as a known drug user. I was in shambles.
I reached the end of the pier and posted for sometime. I then heard someone really loud behind me yell:
"Hey you, with the crazy hair, you want to smoke a blunt?"
This is how I met Tex (I'll call him Tex because he is in fact from Texas). I don't know how I attract these people, but I sure as hell do. To give you a quick reference of the type of person that aided my removal from the Santa Monica Holliday Inn in January, I will elaborate on a few key details.
He has had an on-again-off-again relationship with Jerry Rice's daughter, Ja Qui Rice, for some months. From going out a couple times with them I can tell you she is a really cool, chill girl. Tex however is bat-shit crazy. In the last few months my escapades with him have included:
*Making death threats against 30 Seconds To Mars' junkie manager for stealing thousands of dollars of stereo equipment from his apartment to pay off Jared Leto's debt.
·
*Throwing a beer can at Dee Snider because it could lead to the start of his own reality show.
· *Conning a virgin Indian we met at the bar into giving us 300 dollars cash to take him to Crazy Girls and show him how a real woman looks without a burkha.
· *Then recently he was fired from the Beverly Wilshire (where he made $400 in tips an afternoon as a door man) for sexual harassment on an unnamed celebrity. It was settled out-of-court.
I guess the whole point here is this guy is the first friend I made in Los Angeles. I was hopeless and desperate to make something of myself, & the life I dreamed of living. He didn't give a shit. He just wanted to high. It was a welcomed relief.
We talked about ridiculous things. Some of the discussion would evolve to be the beginnings of the script I'm currently working on. The hysterical moment that took place in that very smoky suite, paid for with Brazil money, was Tex knocking himself out cold. We were smoking, steady for a while; not giving a care to the world of anything that was taking place beyond my suite over looking the ocean.
Then there was a loud knocking at the door.
I looked through the peephole then turned around and said "It's a guy with a badge. But don't worry I don't think he's a real cop."
My words weren't reassuring to me new-found-friend, Tex. He had a history with the police and was going to avoid a confrontation at all costs. He immediately began to look for a place to hide. He made a desperate move to evade what he thought was absolute doom.
We were going to jail. This was the end. Finally I had pushed it too far and I was going to be locked up. In fact I supported the notion. A maniac like me shouldn't be running the streets.
Tex dove to hide himself under the bed. The only thing is that it's impossible to hide under the bed seeing as hotel beds prevent this with a running board around the frame of the bed.
Tex tried jumping underneath the bed as soon as the General Manager started knocking on room # 703, my suite.
Tex did not know about the bed. He leaped to hide underneath it and knocked himself out completely out cold. I smoothed it over with the manager, graciously thanking him for not showing up with police. He said to be out of the room in ten minutes. He looked over the room and let up a little bit apologizing for yelling at me.
"It's okay sir, I'm used to this. Standard operating procedure."
"Right. By the way, is he ok?"
Tex was laying face down on the floor with his head only slightly hidden by the bed's comforter. He might have been bleeding.
"He's sleepy."
I smiled and closed the door. I packed my bag as fast as I could while kicking Tex in the process trying to wake the crazed man. I went out the back through the kitchen, maintaining my composure.
"Off to a great start Mike" I thought to myself as I jumped on a bus and sat next to a pretty brunette with brown eyes.
I could go on with other stories but I will save them for another time. Instead I will include a scene I wrote the other night for the script. I'm at 72 pages and the walls of my apartment are covered with Post-It notes and index cards. It's pure magic.
The following is a monologue I wrote the other night. It is the final scene of the first act. It's a flashback to Mason's college days when he has the lust for life that propelled him to the success he is currently experiencing. Mason meets and falls for Kate, a fellow art student, instantly. She is stunningly beautiful. She is the reason that Mason chooses to derail his carefully laid plans when she comes back into his life 10 years after their meeting at the gallery in Los Angeles. This is just a little taste.
Enjoy.
Mason walks over to the painting. He stands to the left of it then he walks over and stands at the right of it. Then he walks a couple feet back and squints at it for a minute. He slowly starts to smile as he walks up to the painting.
MASON
This piece right here is life.
KATE
Gotta do better than that.
Kate shakes her head.
MASON
It is. You see life is pointillism. It's one huge picture made up of dots. Every portion of the piece is carefully pre-gridded out before the first brush stroke hits. Each dot of color is an experience in your life, whether it be good or bad is irrelevant because the color of the dot is what matters. At the time it may not make any sense why it's the color that it is but it serves a purpose. Each and every single little dot in the piece has significance. Each dot carries equal importance. Because alone it's just a dot. But together it becomes the entire picture that is your life. Whether the picture is dull or bright is up to the artist. Signac had faith that each one of his tiny dots mattered and he knew that not one of them could be wasted. The end result is a magnificent painting. The end result is life.
KATE
Let's get out of here.
Mason and Kate run out of the gallery hand in hand.
Your friend till the end,
Mike James
The Hollywood Holla #3
By: Mike James
8/7/08
Slim: Cricket. I came to say good-bye.
Cricket: What?
Slim: We're leaving now. Thanks for everything.
Cricket: Hey Slim, are you still happy?
Slim: What do you think?
- Final Scene of “To Have and Have Not” (1944)
I have to begin by apologizing for my delayed correspondence. I initially intended to send out regular issues of “The Hollywood Holla” when I began but things were much different when I began. Much different indeed…
America’s Funniest Videos aren’t actually all from America. This disturbed me at first. Then it made perfect sense. When I realized why the video archive, which I spend so much of my day in, contained one side which was alphabetized in a perfectly logical manner. The other side of the archive starts out at AUS, then BEL, then CHE, then DEN and so on. WHAT?!?! We’ve been peddling European vacation outtakes and French weddings gone wrong the whole time!!!
Clearly this was a startling discovery. Then again, just about everything is a startling discovery nowadays.
I got hired on as a production assistant for the 19th Season of America’s Funniest Home Videos. It’s a pretty good gig. I’m chipping away at the parking tickets a little bit at a time. The writers favorite part of the day is when “that crazy surfer dude from Indiana” brings them coffee. I also get to watch videos of squirrel antics, baby vomit, drunk people falling off tables and my favorite the crouch shot.
It’s a standard office PA gig with two days on set a month. It is a huge improvement (and relief) from the freelance PA thing. For starters the dude I had been working with on set that was a PA from PA (ha ha) ended up being a butt pirate. No literally he was trading sexual favors for rent. The whole gig in Palm Springs for a week was a lie. He didn’t know any project managers he was just showing up on set when “daddy” told him too.
Up and down Beachgrove Rd. leading all the way up to the Hollywood sign, unimaginable atrocities are taken place upon those who had all the hopes of a new start and wild dreams of a promising future.
“Hollywood wasn’t what I expected it to be.”
I laughed and said “it sure as hell isn’t!”
For me I thought it was going to suck much more than what it actually did. In fact this whole Hollywood thing is pretty fucking awesome.
Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t Hollywood that sucked.
I didn’t need that gig anyway by that time I had enough going on my own that I wasn’t worried about work. So fuck him or don’t, the guy who wrote the 7th episode of Six Feet Under Season 3 has since April.
AFV is a totally chill office. I really do like it. It’s brainless work. People are cool with me being, me in the office. In fact one of the producers told me I was hired on because they felt I would keep the atmosphere “light” while still getting work done.
I promised I wouldn’t let him down.
The season runs through next May. I plan to begin shooting my debut independent film tentatively titled “Taste” in June. I’ll get to that in a minute though.
In terms of what I have going on business wise, things couldn’t be better. My momentum has been building and building in the last few weeks. I’ll start with the video. Rocstar’s debut music video that I shot back in June and have been editing the last two months is finished and now on youtube. Stop reading now and click on this link…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HhiGd_Wbls
I started shooting on my parent’s VHS-C camera when I was fourteen years old. I’ve shot a lot of videos and worked on a lot of projects since. All of which at one point in time I grew to thoroughly hate and convulse at upon one play past completion. This one was different. This is my best work to date. I’m very proud of this video but I know it’s only an example. This video is shows what I can do if given the opportunity and in this town opportunity is everything.
I am also pitching a show to ToonDisney/Jetix, the yet-to-be-titled new Disney owned kids network. My manager (lady that I worked with last summer that has been hooking me up) has the connections there and I am doing the developmental work. Outlines, sample scripts, character anaylsis, and development of our host’s character “Coach Kent”. Kent Buckner, our possible host is also Tay Diggs personal trainer as well as the personal trainer for a number of professional athletes.
My idea (and don’t bother stealing it because I already have it registered with WGA) is basically a kid’s workout show. Specifically, in the format that is called interstitials. Interstitials are sixty second programs that run between programming and commercials. Disney is the sixty-pound gorilla when it comes to marketing especially viral marketing using new media.
The catch is I’ve never written a script. I’ve written countless outlines and notes and short stories but never a legit script. So when the opportunity came up I had to figure it out as I went, as usual. It’s coming along slowly. Mainly because I almost forgot from last summer how incredibly difficult it is to write to kids. Let alone in a format I have never written in before.
But what the hell? Right? Of course! Buy the ticket take the ride.
So that is one of many balls in the air.
I have met so many incredible people since moving out. It have been shocked and amazed me at the familiarities I have found here to every other place that I have called home in the past. The community in Hollywood is weird. Everything about this town is strange and yet I’ve never felt the sense of belonging that I do here.
Adjusting to the working life has been a slight challenge. Mainly the getting up in the morning, having people look at me like I know nothing, people on power trips and the over all daily grind. I can’t complain though. I have a job in the industry that is well paid and runs through May. Tom Beourgeron is much shorter than you would think, but that’s what they say I guess.
The release of the video has been exciting because I’ve gotten some great feedback. Several opportunities have surfaced to do other videos since I posted it last week.
I guy called selling me the LA Times and seeing as I am a news junkie I said sign me up. While he was processing my information we got to talking about things and about what each other did. He said that he did videos and that he wanted to see some of my work. I emailed him the link to the video and he called saying he wanted a partnership. This was a warning sign that this guy didn’t know what he was talking about.
I would go into detail about how this guy had no idea what he was talking about when we met but I will spare you the goriness. He also was a one-eye-squinter. By that I mean he only had one fully operational eye, the other he just kind of squinted out of it.
“So you know I like that video you did, you know. So you know I’m think we outta go in together. Cut the take in half and get sumpin goin’, you know?”
I knew he was speaking to me but I just wasn’t listening that closely. I was thinking,
How the hell am I supposed to work with a dude with an eye like that? I mean really? Is this guy for real? What were you in some kind of brawl in a back alley or something? Did you fix some card get and get stabbed with a butterfly knife in a biker bar in East LA? I think if he had a glass eye I would be cool with this. In fact I might even ask him if I could hold it. But no! He’s got this fucking squinty shit goin’ on and it’s really pissing me off.
I heard his piece, gave him my reel, convinced him to buy a round of Patron and I peaced out. This guy did some Public Access but never made any money. It was pretty clear to me. How do you expect to be successful with a one-eye-squinter?
Living in this town is simply incredible. There is always so much to do. I feel like I don’t ever even have to plan anything. As long as I’m in the right place at the right time (which I have a long celebrated history of just that) there is a guaranteed good time. I’ve got tickets to Queens of the Stoneage at The Fonda on the 16th and Radiohead tickets for The Hollywood Bowl on the 24th. Jack Black, Kyle Gass, Billy Gibbons, Brody Dalle and other friends of QOTSA will be there in honor of Natasha Scheinder, former actress and keyboardist for QOTSA who recently lost her battle with cancer. It is sure to be a memorable show.
The dust settles for now. Things grow quieter with routine. Discipline. Responsibility. Not as attractive as spontaneous and drunk but we all have to grow up sometime right? Nay. Nay, I say! I might have bills to pay but I will continue to clown around and play. Apologies I play Nintendo Wii with a dude that lives in the basement of my building. He freestyles and while demolishing me on my own system he will freestyle hate rhymes about my Wii game.
It’s humiliating. So I’ve begun to practice my freestylin’ abilities. I began with googling “freestylin’ funky fresh rhymes”. It returned some organic produce site, a blog about cheese and a Christian sing-a-long tape. I hung my head in shame with the realization of how incredibly white I really am.
I’ve quit playing Wii for now. Child’s play. I’m a working man in the entertainment industry. Vin Di Bona gave me some advice when I met him.
You know when I started out in this industry I was a PA on a show, Oh you wouldn’t know the name of it, but I was a PA with another guy my age. He would complain “oh why do we have to get pizza and coffee for these guys all the time?” I would get the pizza and coffee, you see. Because I knew that I was getting to watch the greatest people in television and if I wanted to get to where I wanted to be I needed to get that pizza and coffee. Now it was real nice to meet you all welcome to the company.
When I finally looked at him while he was talking I was first surprised that he wasn’t reading it off of a teleprompter. I had been paying more attention to his scotch rack. My lips watered at the thought of the rare and exquisite scotch that was housed in those crystal containers. So many nights I’ve spent slumped over at the computer with a glass of Ole’ Grand Dad on the rocks with no doubt that the work I was doing would lead me to a future of the finest scotch in the finest crystal containers.
The pursuit of glory is fascinating. The 2008 summer Olympics have begun and it will be on in my apartment 24 hours a day in full 5.1 Dolby Digital Surround Sound and High Definition picture. Dedication towards one goal for country, family, fame and legend excites me greatly. Years practice for one moment. I identify with these Olympians in some way. Maybe not the gymnists, imagine me on a pommel horse.
I miss my friends a lot. Hearing from Bill and Sabo this week was pretty great. I really, really hope you guys come out. (To Sabo: DO NOT BRING BILL IF HE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MONEY)
There are times driving home from work when I’m in stand still traffic on Highland I will have déjà vu. It’s an experience almost like the feeling of reaching a check point in a race. It might happen at the office or when I debuted the video but it happens often. A feeling where I go back to a Media Law class day dreaming about blondes with fake tits and velvet ropes opening up anywhere I walked that I thought about being at the moment I’m currently in, minus the blondes with fake tits and opening velvet ropes of course.
I will keep you updated with any further developments. Thank you for your support and your belief.
With Love and Respect,
Your Friend,
Mike James
By: Mike James
8/7/08
Slim: Cricket. I came to say good-bye.
Cricket: What?
Slim: We're leaving now. Thanks for everything.
Cricket: Hey Slim, are you still happy?
Slim: What do you think?
- Final Scene of “To Have and Have Not” (1944)
I have to begin by apologizing for my delayed correspondence. I initially intended to send out regular issues of “The Hollywood Holla” when I began but things were much different when I began. Much different indeed…
America’s Funniest Videos aren’t actually all from America. This disturbed me at first. Then it made perfect sense. When I realized why the video archive, which I spend so much of my day in, contained one side which was alphabetized in a perfectly logical manner. The other side of the archive starts out at AUS, then BEL, then CHE, then DEN and so on. WHAT?!?! We’ve been peddling European vacation outtakes and French weddings gone wrong the whole time!!!
Clearly this was a startling discovery. Then again, just about everything is a startling discovery nowadays.
I got hired on as a production assistant for the 19th Season of America’s Funniest Home Videos. It’s a pretty good gig. I’m chipping away at the parking tickets a little bit at a time. The writers favorite part of the day is when “that crazy surfer dude from Indiana” brings them coffee. I also get to watch videos of squirrel antics, baby vomit, drunk people falling off tables and my favorite the crouch shot.
It’s a standard office PA gig with two days on set a month. It is a huge improvement (and relief) from the freelance PA thing. For starters the dude I had been working with on set that was a PA from PA (ha ha) ended up being a butt pirate. No literally he was trading sexual favors for rent. The whole gig in Palm Springs for a week was a lie. He didn’t know any project managers he was just showing up on set when “daddy” told him too.
Up and down Beachgrove Rd. leading all the way up to the Hollywood sign, unimaginable atrocities are taken place upon those who had all the hopes of a new start and wild dreams of a promising future.
“Hollywood wasn’t what I expected it to be.”
I laughed and said “it sure as hell isn’t!”
For me I thought it was going to suck much more than what it actually did. In fact this whole Hollywood thing is pretty fucking awesome.
Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t Hollywood that sucked.
I didn’t need that gig anyway by that time I had enough going on my own that I wasn’t worried about work. So fuck him or don’t, the guy who wrote the 7th episode of Six Feet Under Season 3 has since April.
AFV is a totally chill office. I really do like it. It’s brainless work. People are cool with me being, me in the office. In fact one of the producers told me I was hired on because they felt I would keep the atmosphere “light” while still getting work done.
I promised I wouldn’t let him down.
The season runs through next May. I plan to begin shooting my debut independent film tentatively titled “Taste” in June. I’ll get to that in a minute though.
In terms of what I have going on business wise, things couldn’t be better. My momentum has been building and building in the last few weeks. I’ll start with the video. Rocstar’s debut music video that I shot back in June and have been editing the last two months is finished and now on youtube. Stop reading now and click on this link…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HhiGd_Wbls
I started shooting on my parent’s VHS-C camera when I was fourteen years old. I’ve shot a lot of videos and worked on a lot of projects since. All of which at one point in time I grew to thoroughly hate and convulse at upon one play past completion. This one was different. This is my best work to date. I’m very proud of this video but I know it’s only an example. This video is shows what I can do if given the opportunity and in this town opportunity is everything.
I am also pitching a show to ToonDisney/Jetix, the yet-to-be-titled new Disney owned kids network. My manager (lady that I worked with last summer that has been hooking me up) has the connections there and I am doing the developmental work. Outlines, sample scripts, character anaylsis, and development of our host’s character “Coach Kent”. Kent Buckner, our possible host is also Tay Diggs personal trainer as well as the personal trainer for a number of professional athletes.
My idea (and don’t bother stealing it because I already have it registered with WGA) is basically a kid’s workout show. Specifically, in the format that is called interstitials. Interstitials are sixty second programs that run between programming and commercials. Disney is the sixty-pound gorilla when it comes to marketing especially viral marketing using new media.
The catch is I’ve never written a script. I’ve written countless outlines and notes and short stories but never a legit script. So when the opportunity came up I had to figure it out as I went, as usual. It’s coming along slowly. Mainly because I almost forgot from last summer how incredibly difficult it is to write to kids. Let alone in a format I have never written in before.
But what the hell? Right? Of course! Buy the ticket take the ride.
So that is one of many balls in the air.
I have met so many incredible people since moving out. It have been shocked and amazed me at the familiarities I have found here to every other place that I have called home in the past. The community in Hollywood is weird. Everything about this town is strange and yet I’ve never felt the sense of belonging that I do here.
Adjusting to the working life has been a slight challenge. Mainly the getting up in the morning, having people look at me like I know nothing, people on power trips and the over all daily grind. I can’t complain though. I have a job in the industry that is well paid and runs through May. Tom Beourgeron is much shorter than you would think, but that’s what they say I guess.
The release of the video has been exciting because I’ve gotten some great feedback. Several opportunities have surfaced to do other videos since I posted it last week.
I guy called selling me the LA Times and seeing as I am a news junkie I said sign me up. While he was processing my information we got to talking about things and about what each other did. He said that he did videos and that he wanted to see some of my work. I emailed him the link to the video and he called saying he wanted a partnership. This was a warning sign that this guy didn’t know what he was talking about.
I would go into detail about how this guy had no idea what he was talking about when we met but I will spare you the goriness. He also was a one-eye-squinter. By that I mean he only had one fully operational eye, the other he just kind of squinted out of it.
“So you know I like that video you did, you know. So you know I’m think we outta go in together. Cut the take in half and get sumpin goin’, you know?”
I knew he was speaking to me but I just wasn’t listening that closely. I was thinking,
How the hell am I supposed to work with a dude with an eye like that? I mean really? Is this guy for real? What were you in some kind of brawl in a back alley or something? Did you fix some card get and get stabbed with a butterfly knife in a biker bar in East LA? I think if he had a glass eye I would be cool with this. In fact I might even ask him if I could hold it. But no! He’s got this fucking squinty shit goin’ on and it’s really pissing me off.
I heard his piece, gave him my reel, convinced him to buy a round of Patron and I peaced out. This guy did some Public Access but never made any money. It was pretty clear to me. How do you expect to be successful with a one-eye-squinter?
Living in this town is simply incredible. There is always so much to do. I feel like I don’t ever even have to plan anything. As long as I’m in the right place at the right time (which I have a long celebrated history of just that) there is a guaranteed good time. I’ve got tickets to Queens of the Stoneage at The Fonda on the 16th and Radiohead tickets for The Hollywood Bowl on the 24th. Jack Black, Kyle Gass, Billy Gibbons, Brody Dalle and other friends of QOTSA will be there in honor of Natasha Scheinder, former actress and keyboardist for QOTSA who recently lost her battle with cancer. It is sure to be a memorable show.
The dust settles for now. Things grow quieter with routine. Discipline. Responsibility. Not as attractive as spontaneous and drunk but we all have to grow up sometime right? Nay. Nay, I say! I might have bills to pay but I will continue to clown around and play. Apologies I play Nintendo Wii with a dude that lives in the basement of my building. He freestyles and while demolishing me on my own system he will freestyle hate rhymes about my Wii game.
It’s humiliating. So I’ve begun to practice my freestylin’ abilities. I began with googling “freestylin’ funky fresh rhymes”. It returned some organic produce site, a blog about cheese and a Christian sing-a-long tape. I hung my head in shame with the realization of how incredibly white I really am.
I’ve quit playing Wii for now. Child’s play. I’m a working man in the entertainment industry. Vin Di Bona gave me some advice when I met him.
You know when I started out in this industry I was a PA on a show, Oh you wouldn’t know the name of it, but I was a PA with another guy my age. He would complain “oh why do we have to get pizza and coffee for these guys all the time?” I would get the pizza and coffee, you see. Because I knew that I was getting to watch the greatest people in television and if I wanted to get to where I wanted to be I needed to get that pizza and coffee. Now it was real nice to meet you all welcome to the company.
When I finally looked at him while he was talking I was first surprised that he wasn’t reading it off of a teleprompter. I had been paying more attention to his scotch rack. My lips watered at the thought of the rare and exquisite scotch that was housed in those crystal containers. So many nights I’ve spent slumped over at the computer with a glass of Ole’ Grand Dad on the rocks with no doubt that the work I was doing would lead me to a future of the finest scotch in the finest crystal containers.
The pursuit of glory is fascinating. The 2008 summer Olympics have begun and it will be on in my apartment 24 hours a day in full 5.1 Dolby Digital Surround Sound and High Definition picture. Dedication towards one goal for country, family, fame and legend excites me greatly. Years practice for one moment. I identify with these Olympians in some way. Maybe not the gymnists, imagine me on a pommel horse.
I miss my friends a lot. Hearing from Bill and Sabo this week was pretty great. I really, really hope you guys come out. (To Sabo: DO NOT BRING BILL IF HE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MONEY)
There are times driving home from work when I’m in stand still traffic on Highland I will have déjà vu. It’s an experience almost like the feeling of reaching a check point in a race. It might happen at the office or when I debuted the video but it happens often. A feeling where I go back to a Media Law class day dreaming about blondes with fake tits and velvet ropes opening up anywhere I walked that I thought about being at the moment I’m currently in, minus the blondes with fake tits and opening velvet ropes of course.
I will keep you updated with any further developments. Thank you for your support and your belief.
With Love and Respect,
Your Friend,
Mike James
The Hollywood Holla
By: Mike James
6/25/08
“When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch.”
-John Steinbeck “Travels with Charley”
I was at a house party in Ottawa, Canada with my friend Frank Merendino when it was suggested to me by someone at the party that I should read “Travels with Charley”. I was explaining my plans for the summer. Five weeks in Canada, Bonnaroo, drive across the country to LA, nine weeks in LA, drive back across the country stopping just in time for two nights of Dave Matthews at Alpine Valley in Wisconsin.
I immediately bought the book and was enthralled with Steinbeck’s tale of his search for the “real” America. His search for truth, his ability to see grey in between the black and the white and passion for the unknown was an inspiration. As anyone who knows me, knows, I suffer from what I like to call “itchy feet”. I can’t settle down in one place for long before wanting to be someplace else.
As I write this I will have officially lived in LA thirty days. Not a long time. But oh so much has happened. Since moving out everything has kind of felt like riding a rollercoaster with all the nuts screwed half way on.
I believe where I last left off I was anticipating getting a job with Santa Monica Video as a delivery guy. Good pay, full benefits, an ideal situation but something didn’t sit right with me. I got great vibes from everyone at the office but something was definitely like a hangnail there, totally capable of working right around it but noticeably annoying.
Then I get a call from an exec. at GSN (Game Show Network) and he’s telling me that they are launching a new GSN Radio and he wants to talk to me about being a production assistant. I say hell yea, game shows rock, I’ve got radio creds, I’m in. Then I get a call from SMV they say they want to give me the job. This is right after GSN calls and says they want to interview me. Mind you there is entire different situation that is currently being played out while I’m talking to these two places on the phone.
I was up in the hills at this kid’s house I met on set washing his sugar daddy’s car. I should probably explain the sugar daddy part, but I’ll get to that in a minute. I was shooting a music video for Rocstar and this kid tells me he has a blue 1970 Ford Torino GTS convertible. Considering also that my client Rocstar is an active West Blvd. Crip member it couldn’t be more perfect. He tells me I can use it as long as I help him wash it. Absolutely I say.
Little did I know that he lives with this big shot writer who wrote some episodes of Six Feet Under. He also failed to mention that this guy lived with this other famous artist, who’s work I didn’t recognize but was very good. This writer is kind of giving back by paying for all this dude’s shit because his dad gave him his first job. This is slightly similar to the whole Donny Whalberg giving his brother the charity of his own Funky Bunch, to provide some context.
Anyway, we wash the car. Then the guy comes out and tells us to wash his other cars. Then we are doing the interior. It’s around this point where I play the “well it’s getting late, I better get going” card. Then my phone rings. GSN asks for interview. SMV offers me the job. Other dude who I am here just because I want to use his car and not do bitch work for his sugar daddy is yelling at me. Pandemonium.
Luckily I have read Richard Nelson Bolles book “What Color Is Your Parachute?”
http://www.amazon.com/What-Color-Your-Parachute-2008/dp/1580088678/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1214188580&sr=8-1
I highly recommend this book for anyone regardless of employment situation. I referred to the text and followed the procedure for having to inform a company that you are interviewing with another before you can accept the job. It worked and I proceeded to interview with GSN without pissing off SMV.
The interview went great or I thought so. I felt like I was more than qualified and it seemed like a good fit. The producer I interviewed with wasn’t even employed by GSN. He was a marketing consultant hired by GSN to staff and then eventually promote the radio show. He was yawning so I cracked a joke that he needed to hire a hard worker like me so he could get more sleep. He laughed but I think it was a reflex.
At the end of the interview he introduced me to someone and he told me I seemed like a fine young man with my head screwed on right. I agreed my head was screwed but I’m not necessarily on right.
I pushed the button to head down the elevator when I hear a voice yelling from the door I had just walked out of.
“HEY!”
The producer was standing at the door with his hands cupped around his mouth. For some reason he felt the 20 feet between us needed amplification.
“How about you hold off on those video people, ah?”
“Sure, sure of course” I stuttered out as the elevator door closed on my waving arm.
“Sounds like you knocked it dead” said a random guy in the elevator.
“You god damn right I knocked it dead. I fucking killed it. I’m the shit man. You haven’t even heard about me!” I said in my head as I humbly nodded my head and smiled.
I didn’t just walk out of the GSN offices that day I flew. In fact in a very strange turn of events I flew right past Kurt Loder from MTV news as he was walking in. He might of winked at me. I’m not sure.
So, brimming with confidence I walked to my car.
No parking ticket. Awesome.
I called Santa Monica Video and asked for the Vice President of Operations. I boldly told him that I thought SMV was a fantastic company, one that anyone involved with should be proud of. I told him I realized he was offering a very good, secure job but I didn’t think it was the best option for me. My heart was with GSN and I would wait to hear back from them. He said he appreciated my honesty and straight-forwardness. He thought I was making the right decision to go with my gut and to call him whenever.
Now we play the waiting game. It’s difficult to precisely pin down what an “A-typical” day in Hollywood is because that’s impossible. As I write this I’ve been here over thirty days but it seems so much longer, but not really. The in-between business times involve a lot of Wii, a lot Tecante and a lot of weed. Throw in a little gym time and that pretty much sums it up. Which brings me right back around my next iron in the fire.
I joined LA fitness on Hollywood Blvd. and it’s fantastic. Great chick-to-dude ratio, in door basketball court, sauna, hot tub and of course a really hyped up Asian chick with fake tits and gives out way to many high-fives. I get to chatting with one of the trainers through somebody else and he says he knows someone that needs someone that can do a work-out video on the cheap. It didn’t take long to talk my way into getting this guy’s number and calling him. Apparently this dude has the top selling workout on iTunes and wants to make a video to go with it. He wants to use that tape to pitch a reality show.
Of course I ran into some problems with saying I can produce a workout video. I have no equipment, no crew and most importantly no money. However the golden gift of gab provided two production assistants, a director of photography from Academy of Arts in Pasedena, an editor to do all the post and his brother conviently does graphic design for my cover and DVD authoring. This, of course, all fell into place after I sold the trainer on a $3,000 budget.
The shoot is in Runyon Park July 12th. Runyon Park is one of a couple parks that you can shoot at without the $450 permit. If my numbers turn out right and nothing goes terribly wrong I’ll make a cool grand for talking on the phone, showing up on set and telling people what to do then finally delivering a finished product. I’m constantly patting myself on the back for my career choice.
Fast forward a few days or something like that and I’m at my mailbox. There is a letter from GSN. This is it. The moment of truth.
To summarize:
Dearest Mike James:
Thanks for taking the time to come in and interview with us. We realize that you told Santa Monica Video to go fuck them selves after you interviewed with us and we appreciate that as well. Unfortunately we are completely full of shit and don’t have a position for you at this time but we will keep your resume as bedding for the production staff’s gerbal, Murray.
Whatever, fuck it. Here is where I am sitting currently. I had another interview with America’s Funniest Home Video’s last week. No, Bob Saget is not the host anymore. Yes, I do feel like I nailed it but I feel like I do every time. I did get an email from my lady I interviewed with thanking me for the e-card I sent her after the interview featuring a kitten singing “We Built This City.”
Pending the Actor’s strike doesn’t screw things up I’m heading to Palm Springs Sunday for a shoot. My buddy got me on has assistant prop-master on a show that is supposed to be a raunchy version of Friends for FOX.
I am currently editing Rocstar’s debut video “Check My Resume” and hope to have a rough cut done by Friday early morning. According to his manager/mother someone from BET is going to take a look at it. I’ve been working on it since Thursday but Six Feet Under Seasons one-three have side tracked me severely.
On a personal note my heart goes out to everyone in Franklin who was affected by the floods. From the pictures I’ve seen on Flickr and talking to people it sounds terrible. I hope this email finds everyone well. It warmed my heart to hear back from so many of the people that I sent it out to. I urge you to forward this on to anybody. Anyone who might modestly appreciate it, send it!
Everyone heading to Michigan this weekend for Rothbury have a killer time. Don’t get busted by 5-0 and don’t buy bunk acid.
Ok. Time to pinch this off.
I really miss everyone. This week the waiting and the ups and downs kind of got to me for the first time since I had been out. But the minute it does somebody will call just wanting to know what’s up or someone will knock on my door which always leads to something interesting.
I think I’ve been on a hunt for something interesting my whole life. Now the chase is starting to get hot in the race to destiny. I’m just another competitor in the Grand Race. A Road Man for the Lords of Karma. With Love & Respect,
Your friend,
Mike James
mikejamesproductions@mac.com
www.thefranklinonline.com/user/mjames
www.youtube.com/mikejamesproductions
2034 Argyle Ave. Apt. 303
Hollywood CA, 90068
By: Mike James
6/25/08
“When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch.”
-John Steinbeck “Travels with Charley”
I was at a house party in Ottawa, Canada with my friend Frank Merendino when it was suggested to me by someone at the party that I should read “Travels with Charley”. I was explaining my plans for the summer. Five weeks in Canada, Bonnaroo, drive across the country to LA, nine weeks in LA, drive back across the country stopping just in time for two nights of Dave Matthews at Alpine Valley in Wisconsin.
I immediately bought the book and was enthralled with Steinbeck’s tale of his search for the “real” America. His search for truth, his ability to see grey in between the black and the white and passion for the unknown was an inspiration. As anyone who knows me, knows, I suffer from what I like to call “itchy feet”. I can’t settle down in one place for long before wanting to be someplace else.
As I write this I will have officially lived in LA thirty days. Not a long time. But oh so much has happened. Since moving out everything has kind of felt like riding a rollercoaster with all the nuts screwed half way on.
I believe where I last left off I was anticipating getting a job with Santa Monica Video as a delivery guy. Good pay, full benefits, an ideal situation but something didn’t sit right with me. I got great vibes from everyone at the office but something was definitely like a hangnail there, totally capable of working right around it but noticeably annoying.
Then I get a call from an exec. at GSN (Game Show Network) and he’s telling me that they are launching a new GSN Radio and he wants to talk to me about being a production assistant. I say hell yea, game shows rock, I’ve got radio creds, I’m in. Then I get a call from SMV they say they want to give me the job. This is right after GSN calls and says they want to interview me. Mind you there is entire different situation that is currently being played out while I’m talking to these two places on the phone.
I was up in the hills at this kid’s house I met on set washing his sugar daddy’s car. I should probably explain the sugar daddy part, but I’ll get to that in a minute. I was shooting a music video for Rocstar and this kid tells me he has a blue 1970 Ford Torino GTS convertible. Considering also that my client Rocstar is an active West Blvd. Crip member it couldn’t be more perfect. He tells me I can use it as long as I help him wash it. Absolutely I say.
Little did I know that he lives with this big shot writer who wrote some episodes of Six Feet Under. He also failed to mention that this guy lived with this other famous artist, who’s work I didn’t recognize but was very good. This writer is kind of giving back by paying for all this dude’s shit because his dad gave him his first job. This is slightly similar to the whole Donny Whalberg giving his brother the charity of his own Funky Bunch, to provide some context.
Anyway, we wash the car. Then the guy comes out and tells us to wash his other cars. Then we are doing the interior. It’s around this point where I play the “well it’s getting late, I better get going” card. Then my phone rings. GSN asks for interview. SMV offers me the job. Other dude who I am here just because I want to use his car and not do bitch work for his sugar daddy is yelling at me. Pandemonium.
Luckily I have read Richard Nelson Bolles book “What Color Is Your Parachute?”
http://www.amazon.com/What-Color-Your-Parachute-2008/dp/1580088678/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1214188580&sr=8-1
I highly recommend this book for anyone regardless of employment situation. I referred to the text and followed the procedure for having to inform a company that you are interviewing with another before you can accept the job. It worked and I proceeded to interview with GSN without pissing off SMV.
The interview went great or I thought so. I felt like I was more than qualified and it seemed like a good fit. The producer I interviewed with wasn’t even employed by GSN. He was a marketing consultant hired by GSN to staff and then eventually promote the radio show. He was yawning so I cracked a joke that he needed to hire a hard worker like me so he could get more sleep. He laughed but I think it was a reflex.
At the end of the interview he introduced me to someone and he told me I seemed like a fine young man with my head screwed on right. I agreed my head was screwed but I’m not necessarily on right.
I pushed the button to head down the elevator when I hear a voice yelling from the door I had just walked out of.
“HEY!”
The producer was standing at the door with his hands cupped around his mouth. For some reason he felt the 20 feet between us needed amplification.
“How about you hold off on those video people, ah?”
“Sure, sure of course” I stuttered out as the elevator door closed on my waving arm.
“Sounds like you knocked it dead” said a random guy in the elevator.
“You god damn right I knocked it dead. I fucking killed it. I’m the shit man. You haven’t even heard about me!” I said in my head as I humbly nodded my head and smiled.
I didn’t just walk out of the GSN offices that day I flew. In fact in a very strange turn of events I flew right past Kurt Loder from MTV news as he was walking in. He might of winked at me. I’m not sure.
So, brimming with confidence I walked to my car.
No parking ticket. Awesome.
I called Santa Monica Video and asked for the Vice President of Operations. I boldly told him that I thought SMV was a fantastic company, one that anyone involved with should be proud of. I told him I realized he was offering a very good, secure job but I didn’t think it was the best option for me. My heart was with GSN and I would wait to hear back from them. He said he appreciated my honesty and straight-forwardness. He thought I was making the right decision to go with my gut and to call him whenever.
Now we play the waiting game. It’s difficult to precisely pin down what an “A-typical” day in Hollywood is because that’s impossible. As I write this I’ve been here over thirty days but it seems so much longer, but not really. The in-between business times involve a lot of Wii, a lot Tecante and a lot of weed. Throw in a little gym time and that pretty much sums it up. Which brings me right back around my next iron in the fire.
I joined LA fitness on Hollywood Blvd. and it’s fantastic. Great chick-to-dude ratio, in door basketball court, sauna, hot tub and of course a really hyped up Asian chick with fake tits and gives out way to many high-fives. I get to chatting with one of the trainers through somebody else and he says he knows someone that needs someone that can do a work-out video on the cheap. It didn’t take long to talk my way into getting this guy’s number and calling him. Apparently this dude has the top selling workout on iTunes and wants to make a video to go with it. He wants to use that tape to pitch a reality show.
Of course I ran into some problems with saying I can produce a workout video. I have no equipment, no crew and most importantly no money. However the golden gift of gab provided two production assistants, a director of photography from Academy of Arts in Pasedena, an editor to do all the post and his brother conviently does graphic design for my cover and DVD authoring. This, of course, all fell into place after I sold the trainer on a $3,000 budget.
The shoot is in Runyon Park July 12th. Runyon Park is one of a couple parks that you can shoot at without the $450 permit. If my numbers turn out right and nothing goes terribly wrong I’ll make a cool grand for talking on the phone, showing up on set and telling people what to do then finally delivering a finished product. I’m constantly patting myself on the back for my career choice.
Fast forward a few days or something like that and I’m at my mailbox. There is a letter from GSN. This is it. The moment of truth.
To summarize:
Dearest Mike James:
Thanks for taking the time to come in and interview with us. We realize that you told Santa Monica Video to go fuck them selves after you interviewed with us and we appreciate that as well. Unfortunately we are completely full of shit and don’t have a position for you at this time but we will keep your resume as bedding for the production staff’s gerbal, Murray.
Whatever, fuck it. Here is where I am sitting currently. I had another interview with America’s Funniest Home Video’s last week. No, Bob Saget is not the host anymore. Yes, I do feel like I nailed it but I feel like I do every time. I did get an email from my lady I interviewed with thanking me for the e-card I sent her after the interview featuring a kitten singing “We Built This City.”
Pending the Actor’s strike doesn’t screw things up I’m heading to Palm Springs Sunday for a shoot. My buddy got me on has assistant prop-master on a show that is supposed to be a raunchy version of Friends for FOX.
I am currently editing Rocstar’s debut video “Check My Resume” and hope to have a rough cut done by Friday early morning. According to his manager/mother someone from BET is going to take a look at it. I’ve been working on it since Thursday but Six Feet Under Seasons one-three have side tracked me severely.
On a personal note my heart goes out to everyone in Franklin who was affected by the floods. From the pictures I’ve seen on Flickr and talking to people it sounds terrible. I hope this email finds everyone well. It warmed my heart to hear back from so many of the people that I sent it out to. I urge you to forward this on to anybody. Anyone who might modestly appreciate it, send it!
Everyone heading to Michigan this weekend for Rothbury have a killer time. Don’t get busted by 5-0 and don’t buy bunk acid.
Ok. Time to pinch this off.
I really miss everyone. This week the waiting and the ups and downs kind of got to me for the first time since I had been out. But the minute it does somebody will call just wanting to know what’s up or someone will knock on my door which always leads to something interesting.
I think I’ve been on a hunt for something interesting my whole life. Now the chase is starting to get hot in the race to destiny. I’m just another competitor in the Grand Race. A Road Man for the Lords of Karma. With Love & Respect,
Your friend,
Mike James
mikejamesproductions@mac.com
www.thefranklinonline.com/user/mjames
www.youtube.com/mikejamesproductions
2034 Argyle Ave. Apt. 303
Hollywood CA, 90068
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
The Hollywood Holla June 1st, 2008
The Hollywood Holla
By: Mike James
June 1, 2008
The Latest:
Hola! Welcome to The Hollywood Holla, my way of sending word and opinion to all those who no longer am able to receive it on a regular basis and to those who I just think are cool people. I figured a good way to stay in touch was to send out a massive email to my posse once a week or so. If for some reason I completely over estimated your coolness and you do not want to receive any emails then first off, screw you and second we don’t want you anyway.
Next, I just went down the list on facebook getting people’s emails and I know I missed a bunch of people that might for some crazy reason want to electronically converse then please forward them this email or send me theirs.
All righty. I hope this message finds everyone well. Things in the last week and a half, two weeks have been crazy, to put it mildly. I have however settled in despite the roller coaster of a couple weeks it’s been.
The trip out here was long and anxiety ridden. To start with my iPod mysteriously died as I was pulling out of the drive in Franklin. An initial indicator it would be a long trip. But after covering 1,700 miles in 24 hours it didn't really matter that my iPod was broke because I was hearing voices in my head. My dad and I arrived Tuesday before last (a day early). Moving in was fast and furious. Javier and Fernando, were too Mexican gentleman that I hired to help me move in when I got here. They were insane. Really like wow.
Got cable, Internet all that jazz real soon and landed a PA job! It was with an outfit called Synthetic Studios. The project manager said it was super low budget and would only pay 100 bones. I didn’t care; I was so stoked to have something lined up so soon I jumped at it.
A dude I met at the shoot said he went a month and a half with no work before he did one job and has been booked 6 days a week for the last 4 months. It's definitely a game out here and whatever I thought I knew last summer has been thrown out the door with my busted iPod.
I had a blast the first day on the set. It was hard, dirty, thankless, extremely unglamorous work and it was exactly what I was wanting. One of the producers asked me how long I had been a PA at the end of the day. I said this was my first paying shoot I had ever been on. He said he thought I been at it a few years. I told him I actually just graduated from college a few days ago. I wasn't even unpacked. He said I had brass balls and probably wouldn't have to worry about getting enough PA work.
Well he as it would turn out I’m not so sure he was right. I had an appointment lined up on Tuesday to see Act 1 personnel. The whole reason I thought I had a job out there. I came in and the lady gave me an application. I told her I had already been hired there.
“Really? Strange. Well let’s give the computer a look now……………(typing and nodding head in a insanely frustrating repetitive motion while chewing gum).
Yea, it seems we do have you in here Lisa will be with you in a moment.”
I sigh a slight breath of relief.
“Come on over Mike.”
Small talk exchanges about the weather and what not.
“So I went by my bank and they gave me this paper that I’m supposed to give to you so I can get my direct deposit set-up” I said with the confidence of someone who is about to start receiving a paycheck.
“Yea, we usually just use a voided check.”
“Oh, well that works. I have one.”
“Ok, good! So is that all you needed today?”
“Um…..No? I mean. I thought….Weren’t you…..?”
“Well I have your resume” Lisa said with a snap and an attitude that carried the stinging pain of a kidney shot.
“I was under the impression that I was hired and you were going to tell me where I was going to start. I was told you had a job for me and to just come in. So I came in.”
“Entertainment business is a little slow right now. You would have better luck trying to get work on your own.”
She delivered this earth shattering news with the same indifference a server would inform a patron that the prime rib has been removed from the Saturday night special menu.
I wasn’t sure what to do. It was quite awkward really. A de-pantsing of colossal proportions.
“You do realize I graduating from college a few days ago. I moved my entire life out here based on the knowledge that you had a job for me. One that would provide some sort of income.”
She stared blankly. Unaffected.
“You do realize that this puts me in a little bit of a bind.”
Her manager then piped up and joined in on the fun.
“We are anticipating an actor’s strike. If the SAG strikes there will be no production work anywhere for anyone. We are only placing jobs in the corporate sector. If you are interesting in a corporate position there is an application over there.”
It was sitting next to the application I was handed earlier, the same one that they accepted in March.
“Well thanks. I think I’ll take it from here.”
I got up and I walked out. I walked to my car and put on the tie I had taken off right before I walked in, in a battle of indecision. I put the tie on all the way, neatly. Then I tore it off with brutal passion and scorching rage. Nothing accentuates the end of employment or the lack of a beginning of that employment like tearing a tie off.
I picked my tie up and gently placed in the passenger’s seat. Plan B was now to begin. So I went to Venice. After visiting several medical centers looking for the perfect cure for my condition I passed out in the grass under a tree, next to a drum circle.
I observed all the bums and beggars. I watched their technique. I took careful note of every mannerism and maneuver. I discovered it doesn’t take too much to be a bum. And being completely honest with your sign like “NEED MONEY FOR WEED” or “WILL GIVE HJ FOR CRACK” doesn’t really help. Compared to the one that says “Smiles, hugs, rainbows and happy thoughts. GOD BLESS YOU!” it doesn’t do that much better. Could be a handy fact.
So being a bum didn’t seem like the thing to do so I hit the computer. I hit it for almost two days straight. Bam! I hear from a place called Santa Monica Video. I applied there as a driver and they call me in.
Santa Monica Video is a post-production house doing video format transfer, conversion, duplication and DVD authoring for every major studio on the west side. The interview went great. I nailed it. Got benefits, massage and free acupuncture. Nothing says you’ve made it like the opportunity to be pierced by thousands of needles free of charge!
I start Wednesday so yea; I’m pretty pumped about it.
This place is strange, wild, exciting and terribly frustrating all at the same time. I think I’ll learn much in a very short amount of time but anticipate staying on the path I am on. I have several freelance things up in the air but due to length I’ll mention some of that later.
I hope this email finds everyone well. Like I said I went through facebook and just picked all the people that I pretty much gave a shit about and wanted them to know I wasn’t dead…yet. Universal Studios is on fire and I can see the massive smoke cloud from my fire escape. When the hills of Los Angeles are burning you can bet the rest of the world is next. Even while the whole world goes up in flames I’ll still be laughing. I’ll still have a drink in hand. I’ll still be… a roadman for The Lords of Karma.
Your friend,
MIKE JAMES
———————
By: Mike James
June 1, 2008
The Latest:
Hola! Welcome to The Hollywood Holla, my way of sending word and opinion to all those who no longer am able to receive it on a regular basis and to those who I just think are cool people. I figured a good way to stay in touch was to send out a massive email to my posse once a week or so. If for some reason I completely over estimated your coolness and you do not want to receive any emails then first off, screw you and second we don’t want you anyway.
Next, I just went down the list on facebook getting people’s emails and I know I missed a bunch of people that might for some crazy reason want to electronically converse then please forward them this email or send me theirs.
All righty. I hope this message finds everyone well. Things in the last week and a half, two weeks have been crazy, to put it mildly. I have however settled in despite the roller coaster of a couple weeks it’s been.
The trip out here was long and anxiety ridden. To start with my iPod mysteriously died as I was pulling out of the drive in Franklin. An initial indicator it would be a long trip. But after covering 1,700 miles in 24 hours it didn't really matter that my iPod was broke because I was hearing voices in my head. My dad and I arrived Tuesday before last (a day early). Moving in was fast and furious. Javier and Fernando, were too Mexican gentleman that I hired to help me move in when I got here. They were insane. Really like wow.
Got cable, Internet all that jazz real soon and landed a PA job! It was with an outfit called Synthetic Studios. The project manager said it was super low budget and would only pay 100 bones. I didn’t care; I was so stoked to have something lined up so soon I jumped at it.
A dude I met at the shoot said he went a month and a half with no work before he did one job and has been booked 6 days a week for the last 4 months. It's definitely a game out here and whatever I thought I knew last summer has been thrown out the door with my busted iPod.
I had a blast the first day on the set. It was hard, dirty, thankless, extremely unglamorous work and it was exactly what I was wanting. One of the producers asked me how long I had been a PA at the end of the day. I said this was my first paying shoot I had ever been on. He said he thought I been at it a few years. I told him I actually just graduated from college a few days ago. I wasn't even unpacked. He said I had brass balls and probably wouldn't have to worry about getting enough PA work.
Well he as it would turn out I’m not so sure he was right. I had an appointment lined up on Tuesday to see Act 1 personnel. The whole reason I thought I had a job out there. I came in and the lady gave me an application. I told her I had already been hired there.
“Really? Strange. Well let’s give the computer a look now……………(typing and nodding head in a insanely frustrating repetitive motion while chewing gum).
Yea, it seems we do have you in here Lisa will be with you in a moment.”
I sigh a slight breath of relief.
“Come on over Mike.”
Small talk exchanges about the weather and what not.
“So I went by my bank and they gave me this paper that I’m supposed to give to you so I can get my direct deposit set-up” I said with the confidence of someone who is about to start receiving a paycheck.
“Yea, we usually just use a voided check.”
“Oh, well that works. I have one.”
“Ok, good! So is that all you needed today?”
“Um…..No? I mean. I thought….Weren’t you…..?”
“Well I have your resume” Lisa said with a snap and an attitude that carried the stinging pain of a kidney shot.
“I was under the impression that I was hired and you were going to tell me where I was going to start. I was told you had a job for me and to just come in. So I came in.”
“Entertainment business is a little slow right now. You would have better luck trying to get work on your own.”
She delivered this earth shattering news with the same indifference a server would inform a patron that the prime rib has been removed from the Saturday night special menu.
I wasn’t sure what to do. It was quite awkward really. A de-pantsing of colossal proportions.
“You do realize I graduating from college a few days ago. I moved my entire life out here based on the knowledge that you had a job for me. One that would provide some sort of income.”
She stared blankly. Unaffected.
“You do realize that this puts me in a little bit of a bind.”
Her manager then piped up and joined in on the fun.
“We are anticipating an actor’s strike. If the SAG strikes there will be no production work anywhere for anyone. We are only placing jobs in the corporate sector. If you are interesting in a corporate position there is an application over there.”
It was sitting next to the application I was handed earlier, the same one that they accepted in March.
“Well thanks. I think I’ll take it from here.”
I got up and I walked out. I walked to my car and put on the tie I had taken off right before I walked in, in a battle of indecision. I put the tie on all the way, neatly. Then I tore it off with brutal passion and scorching rage. Nothing accentuates the end of employment or the lack of a beginning of that employment like tearing a tie off.
I picked my tie up and gently placed in the passenger’s seat. Plan B was now to begin. So I went to Venice. After visiting several medical centers looking for the perfect cure for my condition I passed out in the grass under a tree, next to a drum circle.
I observed all the bums and beggars. I watched their technique. I took careful note of every mannerism and maneuver. I discovered it doesn’t take too much to be a bum. And being completely honest with your sign like “NEED MONEY FOR WEED” or “WILL GIVE HJ FOR CRACK” doesn’t really help. Compared to the one that says “Smiles, hugs, rainbows and happy thoughts. GOD BLESS YOU!” it doesn’t do that much better. Could be a handy fact.
So being a bum didn’t seem like the thing to do so I hit the computer. I hit it for almost two days straight. Bam! I hear from a place called Santa Monica Video. I applied there as a driver and they call me in.
Santa Monica Video is a post-production house doing video format transfer, conversion, duplication and DVD authoring for every major studio on the west side. The interview went great. I nailed it. Got benefits, massage and free acupuncture. Nothing says you’ve made it like the opportunity to be pierced by thousands of needles free of charge!
I start Wednesday so yea; I’m pretty pumped about it.
This place is strange, wild, exciting and terribly frustrating all at the same time. I think I’ll learn much in a very short amount of time but anticipate staying on the path I am on. I have several freelance things up in the air but due to length I’ll mention some of that later.
I hope this email finds everyone well. Like I said I went through facebook and just picked all the people that I pretty much gave a shit about and wanted them to know I wasn’t dead…yet. Universal Studios is on fire and I can see the massive smoke cloud from my fire escape. When the hills of Los Angeles are burning you can bet the rest of the world is next. Even while the whole world goes up in flames I’ll still be laughing. I’ll still have a drink in hand. I’ll still be… a roadman for The Lords of Karma.
Your friend,
MIKE JAMES
———————
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
