Down the airport rabbit hole

No one likes traveling.  And I don't ever consider my airport experiences to be peaceful and relaxing, but some are... well... more surreal than others.  From finding out what happens in the new Star Wars film, to getting in trouble for having a rib cage, to winding up in some strange basement that felt like an alternate reality airport where the announcer was oddly obsessed with a missing flight attendant, my most recent airport experience, as told in text messages:

>>Omg woman in security line just dropped Star Wars spoiler bomb!!!  "I can't believe [HUGE spoiler]!!!!"   ..... Because that sentence just seemed like a good idea to shout out within earshot of 300 so-quiet-you-could-hear-a-pin-drop people??

>>My left ribcage was a problem when I was screened! The TSA agent thought I was smuggling something because my rib sticks out and she was feeling the bones.  She asked what she was feeling.  I explained that was the structure that keeps my innards contained.  My rib cage was thoroughly molested.

>>I'm on one of those tiny flights where we have to take a shuttle (that leaves from the basement of the airport) to the plane, and this set of gates is unbelievable.  The announcer is so casual and unprofessional.  Sounds like they're running a lemonade stand.

>>Announcer dude: "So i just found out why the flight's been delayed.  Turns out there was some slight plane damage."

>>And then: "Oh, I just noticed this flight has downgraded equipment."  Umm... okaaay? Can we get an explanation of some of these comments regarding our flight?

>>He also gave us the name of a flight attendant who's supposed to be here and isn't.  He said that she got in last night and told us she really should be here and there's no excuse for why she's not, and her supervisors are calling her trying to find her....

>>A different announcer is speaking gibberish into the microphone....  Flight attendant walking by during announcement by announcer dudette speaking gibberish:  "Is that a seizure?  Is she having a seizure?"  2nd flight attendant: "It's a remix."

>>This gate is amazing.  The basement is apparently where crazy flights from Alice in Wonderland board.

>>Woman passenger, re: announcer's oversharing of every detail of where the above named flight attendant is and what she's doing: "Is he going to tell us when the flight attendant goes to the bathroom, too?"

>>Announcer: "I don't know if there are Zone Threes, but we're boarding all zones now for flight [5 second pause before naming the flight]  No wait, I mean [names different flight].  Well, I keep getting the flights mixed up, but you guys all know what I mean!...... Which there are zone threes!!!

>>I'm getting on a plane now.  Hopefully it's the right one....

The Little Girl in the Yellow Dress

Throughout the years, my mom has periodically spoken of a Christmas special she remembers loving one year when she was a little girl, called "The Little Girl in the Yellow Dress."  She's looked for it ever since but never come across it, and she had begun to wonder if perhaps she was somehow mixed up about it or was remembering the name incorrectly.  I don't know why I had never thought to Google it before, but last night when we were talking about it, I said I'd Google it in the morning.  Well, she couldn't sleep and beat me to it.  And lo and behold, there it was on the internet in its entirety.  "The Little Girl in the Yellow Dress" originated as a Christmas story written by a Detroit News columnist in 1937 -- the narration of which soon became a tradition on Detroit radio.  And so, with my mom happily reunited with the Christmas special she remembers from childhood (having never read a Nicholas Sparks book, I like to think of this reuniting as a Nicholas Sparks book but with a Christmas special rather than a man...), I present, for your Christmas listening (because in today's world of 3D movies and iPads, everyone should close their eyes, engage their imaginations, and listen to a radio show once in a while), "The Little Girl in the Yellow Dress":

http://www.detroitkidshow.com/little_girl_1949.mp3

Don't be a Hallmark movie character -- When you know what you want, ask

I admire directness, decisiveness, and bluntness.  I also love Hallmark Christmas movies, in which the characters have absolutely zero of any of those qualities.  Invariably, the characters fall in love and then with two commercial breaks to go, they forget how to communicate and have what should be a two-minute conversation but instead turns into a "I never want to see you again and now I'm going to go cry and eat a gallon of ice cream while sad Christmas music plays and I go home to my mom/ grandpa/ best friend and cry about how we can never work out!!!!" argument.  And then of course with two minutes left, the mom/ grandpa/ best friend reminds one of them that hey, there's this thing called talking where you can use your mouth and voice box to put your thoughts into words that the other person can understand, and which helps resolve misunderstandings -- and so Boy and Girl have the light-bulb moment that yes, they do indeed possess those magical voice boxes and mouths, and so they talk, kiss, and the credits roll (usually after they've known each other for about three days).

Though I love those movies for when I need some brainless holiday entertainment, I hate the emotional stupidity of the characters.  But watching one this holiday season reminded me that I've had my own Hallmark "why-am-I-being-so-stupidly-indirect-in-saying-what-I-want-or-what's-bothering-me" moment....

A lot of couples go through the "are we supposed to be calling each other boyfriend/ girlfriend yet" phase for a while until it gets sorted out.  My fiancé and I were no different, dating (exclusively) for almost three months before either of us actually used those words.  But most people probably didn't have the bf/gf issue resolved by the incredibly blunt sibling of an A-list actor.  Three months after we met, I was my now-fiancé's guest at the opening night of a show he stage managed.  I had a front-row seat and noticed one of the actors was looking at me a lot.  Afterwards at the opening night party, I was annoyed that my date did not introduce me to a single person there.  If he talked to anyone when I was right next to him, the other person would always look expectantly for an introduction, which I provided myself.  I remember walking home wondering why he had even invited me, but not saying anything about it, just internally wondering what the issue was, rather than, ya know, asking.  Two days later, he told me that when he got to the theatre for the show the following night, the movie-star-sibling actor who I had noticed looking at me during the performance had greeted him with "Hey man, was that your girlfriend you were with last night?  Because I'm sexually desirous of her."

THAT's what Hallmark Christmas movie characters need.  A dose of pure directness in the face of ambiguity....  I asked him what his response was -- and that's how my fiancé became my boyfriend.

Seeing through the eyes of a child

Today was the second time in a month that a child has asked me if I'm Misty Copeland, famous for being the first African American principal dancer with American Ballet Theatre and currently ballet's major ambassador in pop culture (and today's query came after I had taught the child's ballet audition class, so she had interacted with me a fair amount before asking me).  The first time it happened, it just struck me as amusing, but this time, I was struck with what a fascinating reveal that is about how these children look at the world around them and what they actually see in people when they look at them.  In both cases, other children heard the question, and in neither case did any child laugh or say that was a silly question; they just looked at me for my response.  If only adults could look at people and see first what these children see first....

Maturity knows no age

One of the following is from a journal entry several years ago about an adult actress in a show for which I was a stage manager.  The actress is all about the strength, power, and independence of women, and she prides herself on having those qualities in abundance.  The other is from my journal today about an interaction with an eight-year-old kid.  Like most eight-year-olds, he’s all about testing boundaries in growing his own strength, power, and independence.  Thinking of these two today, separated in life experience by over half a century, reminded me that maturity is not necessarily a function of age....

From my journal:

 .....For a while, she would just throw her underwear on the floor even though I told her where the hamper was (throwing it meant I'd have to put on gloves and deposit her dirty underwear in the hamper for her).  One time, I happened to be there in the dressing room with her when she threw something on the floor even though the hamper was only three feet from her... so I re-positioned the hamper so that it was only a few inches from her... and still she proceeded to just THROW the rest of her clothes on the floor anyway like a spoiled little child.  That was the day I stopped putting her dirty clothes in the hamper.  I simply walked out of the room and took care of my other duties.  By the time I left the theater, she had picked up her dirty underwear and clothes and put them where they belonged….  It took awhile, but she seems to have learned, finally, to take care of her own underwear…. Who knew I'd be trying to break an adult of her immature, inconsiderate, and dirty habits and replace them with the thoughtful, well-mannered habits of a properly brought-up seven-year-old?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 

…And then there's the little boy this week:

Unruly Kid: Can I get a drink of water? [as he runs to the water fountain without looking at me, let alone waiting for my reply.]

Me: No, wait. Stand back in line.

Kid: But I asked.

Me: You didn't.  You know you're all supposed to stand quietly in line against the wall and then one at a time after you ask you can go get water.  But you never stood quietly against the wall, and you didn't wait for my response, so you weren't actually asking.  That's not polite.  So now you have to wait until all the other students, who politely stood quietly against the wall and raised their hands, get water. Then you can get water.

As I wait to see what full-of-attitude response I'm going to get back, the kid thinks about it for a few seconds, then looks at me and nods his head in satisfied approval and says, "Yeah, I can respect that. That makes sense. I'm cool with that."

 .....He's cool with that.  It was all I could do not to laugh.  Who knew there's a mature little respectful guy in there?

Shoelaces and poo

Today I taught a third grader how to tie her shoes.  She didn't already know how not because she was a slow learner, but because no one had ever taught her before, and she learned easily in about 30 seconds.  So that got my morning off to a great start, and I was feeling good about the day....

....Then I had a girl ask me what to do with her shirt after she "dropped it in the toilet with the poo," and witnessed a boy discover "your mom" jokes, which quickly turned into his whole class discovering "your mom" jokes and gleefully going from beginner to expert at creating them (in very dirty, explicit, worse than R-rated versions) in a matter of mere minutes....

... I'm flashing back to that time a couple friends of a friend said my life is so glamorous... Yep -- Keepin' it classy.

Oh wait, but then I walked by Meryl Davis on my way home.  And she's about as close to an actual Disney Princess as they come.  So I guess her grace and elegance balance out the poo and stuff....

Live TV can be painful

From my journal during my internship at The Late Show With David Letterman:


Part of the beauty of live television is that there's only so much that can be rehearsed, and surprises are bound to happen.  While this leads to a lot of funny, spontaneous moments, it also can lead to some... well, rather painful spontaneous moments.  The latter was the case when Super Bowl-winning [bearded football star] was a guest this week. As part of his interview, there was supposed to be a plug for [a specific brand of] razors.  The idea was to shave his beard on the air and show the results, finishing with a close-up and sparkle graphics keyed over his nice, clean, smooth face -- a simple bit, begun and completed in the same segment.  However, no one counted on this particular shave being the worst shave any one had ever seen in their lives.  It started off okay... for about two seconds... but [football star]'s flinching made it evident pretty quickly that this might not be the smooth shave [the razor brand] was hoping would help plug their product.... Add to that the fact that the shave was taking much longer than expected, and rather than showing it all at once in one continuous sequence of shots, the control room decided to just show it periodically throughout the show [because showing a man being shaved on late night television would otherwise have clearly made for a riveting piece of television... or not....].  But because it was a promo and not just the show's own bit, we still had to keep showing it until it was over....  At least one "extra" [comedy bits excluding the monologue, top ten, and interviews] had to be cut in order to make room for it -- and to make things worse, the razor was clearly cutting him badly enough that the cuts and blood were showing up on the screen. 

Finally, as the episode that was now about a man being shaved came to an end and the shave was at last complete (or close enough), they did the planned zoom-in with sparkles over his face.... And rather than being nicely shaved as those sparkles sparkled all over the screen, the poor guy was bleeding and looking quite surly.  I wonder how many men will pick tomorrow as their first day to start growing a beard....

Such is the nature of live TV.

Vignette

One of my favorite things about working as an extra on a film is getting to be a fly on the wall and watch all the dynamics between the members of the production team.  Sometimes I see little vignettes that are as amusing and satisfying as the scenes being filmed....

For the purposes of this blog post, I'm re-naming the Set PA Mike and the 2nd 2nd AD Dan.  From a film shoot on which I was an extra:

2nd 2nd AD Dan:  Mike, in your blocking notes, you're getting principals too, right?
Set PA Mike (totally confidently, not missing a beat):  Yep.
[Mike waits until Dan turns around and then whips out his blocking notes and starts furiously writing principals' blocking.]

Later, in a scene where most of us extras are supposed to be sleeping:

Script Supervisor to Dan, with a bossy, condescending tone of voice:  But when [x happens] some of them [the extras] should wake up.
Dan (annoyed):  Yeah, we already took care of that! [as Mike walks towards him and hears this, clearly amused by the fact that they most definitely did NOT already take care of that -- and that Dan is now in the same position Mike was earlier]
Extra, quietly, to Mike:  Should I be one who wakes up then?
Mike, shrugging, with a small smile:  Dan said he already took care of that.
Dan (having missed this exchange, and not aware that Mike overheard his exchange with the script supervisor):  Hey Mike, can you pick some of them to wake up when [x happens]?
Mike (with a satisfied smirk on his face):  Yeah.