New Day Job

I am so happy with my new "day" job. No more working at the restaurant, for me. Okay, I miss the free food, but I have doubled my income. I'm now saving money to send my mother and I have money in my pocket. For those of you who don't already know and are curious as to what I am doing, I am driving a bus, in London. A big, red double-decker, London bus. Hey! it's fun.
Of course, I can't help thinking about the negative attitudes that used to be directed my way, by a number of women, at the paltriness of my old salary. One old girlfriend referred to me as someone "with no prospects." Now I earn more than her, ha, ha, ha. Another female friend, desperate to get married and/or have a baby, turned her nose up at me, because I didn't earn enough to, in her words, support her, while she took time off from work, to give birth. Although she wanted to wait five years, before getting pregnant. I used to ask her, "why do you assume I will be making the same in five years time?" Then, there was the woman I was seeing, last year, who stopped all contact with me, because I said I would marry someone rich, for money. Why was she bothered? She's not rich. Anyway, this "indecent proposal" conversation was only academic. There was another woman, who turned her nose up at dating me, in part, because I don't own a car. Well, I am planning on buying a car again, next year.
Sod all of them! I'm on my way back up. While the world has a financial melt-down, my financial situation is vastly improving. It's going to be a happy new year, indeed.

Pritam's Notice

Pritam, my Nepalese co-worker, has given his notice. He's quitting! For months, he's been saying to me that he wanted to leave, but he never seemed to act on it. I had started thinking this was just talk. Now, he's finally gone and done it. This is his last week at the restaurant where I work as my day job. Most struggling actors have a "day job," which provides us with the means to live, until we get our "big break." I am excited at the prospect of him leaving, because of the two of us, he has the easier, more pleasant work duties. I end up with all the crap jobs. I am hoping, when they hire his replacement, the new person will take my old responsibilities and I will take over Pritam's. There's no more money involved, but I like his work much more. It would reduce the likelihood of having to work late, as well. I'm almost in a good mood, now.

More Listeners

I felt more relaxed doing this weekend's "Night Waves" radio show, on Seaside Radio. I did a lot more talking, then I did on the first show. My good friend, Mucky Sarah called in, but the equipment that enables us to put callers on the air wasn't working. I heard from more listeners, This week. Tom emailed me. I had texts from an unknown person, whom I dubbed "the anonymous texter," and from a new listener, Mandy.
I met two female DJs who are also on the station. The first one was Susan Dukes, who does 10AM to Noon on Saturdays. She's the one who didn't turn up last weekend and who I covered for. She's blond and very good looking, but, sadly, married. The second one was Karen, who does a jazz hour on Sunday evenings. Karen is brunette and also attractive, but also married. Don't forget, you can join in the fun by tuning in to "Night Waves," on Seaside Radio, 105.3 FM, Withernsea. The show starts at midnight, UK time, on Saturday nights, and runs till 7AM, Sunday mornings. If you are not in the Holderness region of Northeast England, you can listen over the net at: www.seasideradio.co.uk .

Night Waves

Saturday night, I performed the first of my weekly radio shows, "Night Waves." The bulk of it is, technically, Sunday morning, as the show starts at Midnight. It's a marathon, seven hours. A lot of things I wanted to do weren't ready, but I enjoyed doing it. This will definitely be a work in progress. I ended up playing a lot of music, as it's a long time to fill, with no one in the studio to talk to. I do everything, produce the show, run the equipment, run the station, and answer the phones. No one called, this first night, but I had several emailers and texters, so someone was listening. The last hour, between 6AM and 7AM, is the hardest. My eyes are very heavy by then. After the show, I start my journey back home, taking the first of five buses. Join us next weekend, at www.seasideradio.co.uk .

UK Radio Debut

I arrived in Withernsea at 8:30AM, Saturday. As I rode the bus from Hull, I started seeing signs advertising the radio station. Seaside Radio is one block from the bus stop. It didn't take me long to walk the distance. The door was locked, but the Station Manager, Justin, let me in. Because I arrived 15 hours earlier than my show's starting time, the manager said, "you must be keen."
"Actually, it was the cheapest connection I could get," I clarified. He led me upstairs to where the new studio is located and his office. I set my heavy shoulder bag down, happy to stop lugging the thing around. I relaxed and we chatted away, Justin was playing music on the station. He advised that some presenter wasn't available. Whenever there's no one else to cover a shift, Justin does it himself. He was waiting for a female presenter, who was due to go on air at 10AM. 10AM came and no sign of her. She hadn't called, either. Justin turned to me and said, "you're here early, you can cover." I thought he was kidding, but he wasn't. He expected me to jump in immediately and take over the airwaves.
After a little hesitation, I agreed to do it. I wanted the boss to think of me as someone who's willing to help in a crisis. I sat behind the board and took survey of all I needed to do. Before I got to it, I asked a few questions. Nothing major, just "how do I do" this and "what does that button, there, do?" In the beginning, I kept things simple. Just played music. That came almost naturally to me, given that I was a club DJ, over 27 years ago. From music, I moved on to talking. By the second hour, I was feeling more confident. Just when I was beginning to relax and enjoy myself, the next DJ turned up. All too soon, it was over.
Justin said, "good, now I don't have to stay with you during the first hour of your show, tonight." I worried that he still hadn't shown me how to take callers on the air. I'd just done a two hour radio shift. Ahead of me lay a marathon, seven hour shift, starting at midnight. 27 years and 9 months later, and 3,500 miles from where I started, I was back on the airwaves. D J Joey B is back. Will the world ever be the same?

Start Date Confirmed

It's official! The start date for my radio show has been confirmed. My first broadcast will be Saturday night, 6 October, from midnight until 7AM, Sunday morning, on Seaside Radio. If you happen to be in the Holderness area, East of Hull, England, you can pick us up on 105.3 FM. Anywhere else and you will need to listen over the internet, at: www.seasideradio.co.uk . My show, called Night Waves, will include a combination of talk, music, and listener phone calls. Don't miss my long awaited return to radio, after 27 years and 9 months. The times given are UK time. If you live in another time zone, you will need to adjust the time accordingly. The time on the Eastern Seaboard of the United States is 5 hours earlier than here.

Major Media Announcement

Today, I returned from a weekend in Yorkshire. I went up there to meet with the Station Manager of a radio station. As a result of a successful meeting, I am going to have my own, weekly, radio show, starting next month. I will be doing overnight between Saturday night and Sunday mornings, on Seaside Radio, 105.3 FM, in Withensea, England. Those of you not in the local catchment area for the station will be able to listen over the internet. I am calling my show, "Night Waves" and it will consist of some talk and some music, with caller participation, as well. The talk will be somewhat humorous, very similar to my blog. Because of my trip, this weekend, there won't be a new Artist of the Week, this week. I hope to catch up by next Sunday. More details will be forthcoming when the start date of my show is confirmed.

Wearing the Real Costume

Yesterday, I worked on the feature film for which I attended the costume fitting last week. I had a 6:30AM call time at Pinewood Studios. Getting there via public transportation would prove tricky. After much research, I decided to take the first bus from Bracknell, towards London, but get off at Langley. The production company was providing a free shuttle bus service from Langley train station to Pinewood. They were expecting people from London to arrive at Langley on the 6:11 from Paddington Station. The bus from Bracknell was due to arrive in Langley at 6:06. The only problem was that the bus stop isn't at the train station. Could I walk to the train station in five minutes?
The answer turned out to be, "no." It wasn't helped by the fact that my bus was a bit late. The train station proved to be quite far. After walking a while, I caught a bus that was going my way. I asked the driver if he stopped at the train station, but he said no. He did get me closer, faster than I could have walked the distance. By the time I arrived at Langley Station, it was 6:25. When I walked to the front of the station, I figured the shuttle to Pinewood would have left already. Maybe I could catch a cab from the station. As the front of the station came into view, I was pleasantly surprised. There were a bunch of men waiting there. The shuttle hadn't come yet.
The mini buses didn't start arriving to pick us up till just past 6:30. Technically, we were late, but as we were all in the same boat, I figured I couldn't get into trouble over it. We had been told to arrive at 6AM, if we wanted breakfast. I was concerned about missing breakfast, as I hadn't brought anything to eat with me. Upon arrival at Pinewood, I was in for my second pleasant surprise of the day. They were still serving breakfast. There were so many background artistes in line for their costumes, that there was plenty of time for me to grab something to eat first.
The only downside to this shoot was that all of the actors for the scene were men. There must have been a couple of hundred of us, but not a single female. The only women around were a couple of production runners, a couple of costume people, and all the makeup department. The makeup ladies were quite old and matronly looking, but the female runners were on the cute side. Oh, one of the assistant directors was female as well, but she wasn't so good looking. Mostly, she kept repeating, "quiet please," so often that towards the end of the day, I felt like pushing her head through a wall. Strangely, I ended up resisting the urge.
Although my agent had originally told me the job was for two days filming, I found out that the production company was going to try to cram it all into the one day. That's why we started so bloody early. Because I had been told it was for two days, I had booked two days off work at the restaurant. If they succeeded in getting all the filming done in one day, I would end up with a day off for nothing. The day was long. They didn't wrap us till just past 7PM. It was then that they finally told us for certain that we would not be needed the next day. By them, there was no one left at the restaurant for me to call and cancel my day off for the next day. Oh well, I resigned myself to spending the next day at home, relaxing. Poor me.

May Day

Today is May Day, the first of May. Traditionally, it has been a holiday celebrated by socialists and communists, also known as "International Workers Day." So, I guess it is fitting that today is also the tenth anniversary of the Labour Party coming to power, under Tony Blair. The Labour Party is, after all, a self-proclaimed, socialist party. I guess it is also fitting that "Mayday" is the international distress call. Ten years ago, today, I was traveling from Wales to England, during a visit to the UK to see D---a, who went on to become my evil ex-wife, the Black Queen. As May Day is associated with the international labour movement, I suppose it is fitting that today I returned to work, at the restaurant. The day seemed to pass quietly, here. I didn't hear about any anti-capitalist rallies. The weather was beautiful. Because May first fell on a Tuesday this year, next Monday will be a bank holiday. I hope the day is as beautiful, weather wise. Then I can enjoy being off from work. That is the aspect of labour people seem to enjoy most. Avoiding it.

Busy Weekend

Last Thursday, I received an invitation to the opening of a new club in London. The invitation advised that I could bring a friend. It was good for either Friday night, or Saturday night, but I had to RSVP by noon on either day, in order to be put on the guest list. Reviewing who might be available, I decided to invite my friend, Tom. As he's done so much for me in the past, I like to involve him in as many freebies as possible. That reminds me of something that happened the last time I visited Tom.
Tom gave me an old watch of his. My watch broke, last year, and I have been doing without for many months, relying instead on the clock on my mobile phone. Suddenly, Tom presented me with this old, digital watch of his. It was a cheap, no-name brand, but it worked and the price was affordable. I was very grateful. Somehow, this led him to start showing me a couple of old Rolex watches he has. They were a bit dated looking, but he likes them. He asked me between the two Rolexes he showed me and the cheap digital, which one did I think he'd give me? Me being me, I suggested one of the Rolexes. He made it clear that wasn't going to happen. I was joking anyway. I don't want a watch so expensive that I would worry about someone stealing it, or about me damaging or losing it. Tom then made some joke about when I get rich and famous, I can give him a £12,000 Rolex watch. I looked at him deadpan and said, "what? Are you kidding? You can have a fruit basket." Tom didn't seem to find my response as funny as I did. I sure hope he was kidding.
Back to my invite. As it was too late at night when I received the invitation, via Myspace, to call, I sent Tom a message, informing him of the situation. I wanted to go Friday night, as I would be half way to London anyway, working at Shepperton Studios on Friday. Also, I'd be dressed well from work, so it would be easy to just continue on to the club. I asked Tom to send me a text before noon, to let me know if he was interested. Of course he didn't, so when noon came and went, I resigned myself to not going. Later Friday afternoon, one of the production staff at the sound stage, where I was working, asked my fellow background artists and I if we would be available to work Saturday. I was pleased about this because if I worked Saturday, it would be just as easy to go to the club Saturday night. This gave me more time to get in touch with Tom.
Before we wrapped on Friday evening, the Third AD informed us we wouldn't actually be needed Saturday, after all. I was disappointed, but the idea of going to a club had put its hook in me. I haven't been clubbing in over a year, so the idea appealed to me. I decided to call Tom anyway and see if he wanted to go. When I called his house, I got no answer. I left a voicemail message and went back to watching TV. It got later and later on Friday night, but still no call back from Tom. After finishing with TV, I went upstairs and signed on the internet. When I don't have to get up early the next day, I often stay up until the wee hours of the morning messing about on the internet. Tom didn't show up as online, either. Eventually, I went to sleep.
On Saturday morning, I slept in late. When I woke up, I checked online, but still no response from Tom. I reviewed alternative people to go with. I even asked Nando, my racist, Italian housemate, but he said he had to work Saturday and Sunday, so he wasn't up for it. Noon came and went, with no RSVP from me. I resigned myself to staying in Saturday night. It was cheaper and money is tight. As much as I wanted to go clubbing, I didn't feel like going by myself. Spike Lee's film, "The Inside Man," was premiering on Sky, so I watched that with Nando, after he got home from work. I thought it was a good film. Nando, of course, didn't like it.
Sunday morning came and I slept in again. It's always so nice being off work. Suddenly, my mobile rings. No, it's not Tom, it's my agent calling. The woman who was handling my recent film work was on the phone. She said I was needed back at Shepperton on Monday and possibly all week. After I got off the phone, I contemplated my predicament. I had no way to get in touch with the new manager, at the restaurant, where I work between acting gigs. Earlier in the week, I had asked him for his mobile number, in case I needed to get in touch with him out of office hours. He refused to give it to me, making some quip about not wanting me to call him at all hours. I guess he doesn't yet realize how cheap I am. There is no way I would pay to call his mobile (calling mobiles is more expensive in the UK than calling regular landlines), unless it was business related. He told me that if I had to let him know anything, to just leave a voicemail on his office phone, if it was out of hours. The previous manager had given me his mobile number, but I ended up never needing it. If I could get in touch with the manager that day, he could call the temp agency and order a temp to cover me. If he didn't find out until Monday morning, when he got to the office, he'd end up without cover for a couple of hours, or even worse, the temp agency might not be able to find anyone at all. Our new Head Chef had said he would give me his mobile number, on Thursday, but he didn't remember to. I puzzled over this conundrum for a bit. This wasn't a pleasant conundrum, like a sudoku puzzle.
I tried calling Chef Anthony, the only Chef I had a number for. When he answered, I explained my dilemma and asked if he had the Head Chef's number. If I could get in touch with the Head Chef, he might be able to contact the manager, or even have the authority to order a temp, himself. Anthony said he was out, but he would text me the Head Chef's number in about an hour. As a back up, I tried calling the old Head Chef, who's mobile number I still had. He didn't answer, so I left him a voicemail. He might have the new Head Chef's number, or even the manager's. Four hours later, neither of them had called me back and Anthony hadn't sent me a text. I called Anthony again, but he explained that it had turned out that he didn't have the new Head's number. With a heavy heart, I did the only thing I could do and phoned the office number for the manager. I left him a voicemail advising him of the situation.
Many people would have just left the message straight off and not worried anymore about it. I'm not like that. I think about other people and I try to make things as easy as possible on my employers. The management at the restaurant have been great to me, letting me have time off to pursue my acting career. I always act in a conscientious manner, where ever I work, never knowing if it's even noted, or appreciated. On Monday, I sat in the studio sound stage, with my feet up, sipping a hot chocolate, wondering if they were getting along without me at the restaurant.

Working At Shepperton

Last Friday, I got to work at Shepperton Studios. It was the first time I have worked on a studio sound stage. Up till now, I have always done shoots on location. The only time I have been to studios is for costume fittings. Shepperton is one of the most famous studios in Britain. It has a history in film making that goes back to 1931. Some of the famous films to be made at Shepperton include, "The Day of the Jackal," "Alien," and "Gandhi." One nice thing about Shepperton is that it's only two junctions from Bracknell, on the the motorway, so it doesn't take me long to drive there.
I had an 8AM call time, but arrived early, to take advantage of the free breakfast. For me, breakfast consisted of a bowl of Frosties (known as Frosted Flakes, in America) and two slices of toast. As a beverage, I selected a fruit juice blend. A fellow I worked with on the "Texas Oil Refinery Disaster" episode of "Seconds From Disaster," recognized me and said hello. It was nice to see a familiar face. He and I have the same agent, so it's not surprising to run into each other on a shoot. After breakie, the Third Assistant Director (AD) led those of us who were background artists for the shoot over to wardrobe, and hair and make up. An attractive brunette from the costume department checked me over to make sure I was wearing the exact outfit I was supposed to have on. She compared my appearance to a photo taken at my costume fitting, the day before. Once I passed her inspection, I was directed to the make up artists. They didn't do anything with my short hair, but did apply anti-shine and powder to my face, so my skin wouldn't be so shiny under the lights.
After passing through wardrobe and make up, I was taken to the sound stage where we would be working, that day. Along with my fellow background artists, I was seated in a quiet corner of the stage, where there were chairs for us to sit on. Bottled water was also provided. A famous actor once said that acting is mostly waiting. We sat there for hour after hour. It was cold on the stage and a runner brought a couple of us cappuccinos, with a hot chocolate for me. The camera didn't even turn over until 1PM. The first scene involved only the principals and after a few takes, it was time for lunch. We marched back over to where we'd had breakfast and joined the queue at the catering truck. When it was my turn, I opted for the Thai chicken kebab, with rice.
Lunch break was an hour and once it was completed, we headed back to the sound stage for more waiting. One of the runners asked us if we were available to come back on Saturday. Several of the other background artists grumbled at this, but I cheerfully said, "I'm very available." I liked the prospect of working on Saturday, as I am off from the restaurant on the weekend, anyway, so it would be a chance to earn some more money without taking a day off from the kitchen. After finally using some of us for a few takes at the end of the day we were wrapped and told we wouldn't be needed on Saturday, after all. The Third AD did say we might be needed sometime the following week, but our agents would contact us with the details, when those were finalized.
It was after 7PM as I made my way home. I was surprised at how little we'd done, after a ten and a half hour day, including paid overtime. Most of the time, we were drinking, eating, sitting, sleeping, reading the paper, playing sudoku, and chatting. What a way to make a living. Because of confidentiality agreements, I can't reveal any details about the film we were working on. To outsiders, film making seems like an exciting, glamorous business. That is it's public face, once the product is finished and in cinemas. The day to day reality can be a little dull. The hardest thing is not to die of boredom. Still, it's easy money and beats the hard work at the restaurant. I got to talk with several of my fellow background artists and might have made a few new friends. All in all, they seemed a happy bunch, even if bored at times. I have an advantage over most of my background colleagues, because I never feel bored. So long as they provide us with free food and drink, and a place to sit, I'm happy.

A Trip to Pinewood

Last Thursday, I went to Pinewood Studios, for a costume fitting for the film I am working on. It was my first time visiting Pinewood, one of Britain's most famous studios. At the security building, the guard gave me a map and circled the building I needed to go to, the Stanley Kubrick Building. Then, he directed me to parking. After parking my car, I started walking along Studio Drive, as indicated on my map. Then I made a left on Broccoli Road. Named after Albert "Cubby" Broccoli, who produced the James Bond series of films, walking its surface is like treading cinematic history.
I was surprised to learn that Broccoli was actually born on Long Island, New York, the same as I was. He moved to England in 1951, a move I was to emulate, 47 years later. Broccoli formed Eon Productions, in partnership with Harry Saltzman, and together they produced James Bond. In 1976, the partners split, with Broccoli retaining the full rights to the Bond franchise. Before his death in 1996, he passed on the Bond franchise to his daughter, Barbara, who continues producing the series to this day. The Broccoli family was originally from Italy and Cubby's ancestors created the vegetable, broccoli, by crossing cauliflower with rabe.
At the intersection of Broccoli Road and 007 Drive, I came across the official 007 Stage. For me, this was like visiting Mecca. As a child, I was heavily into James Bond. After my mother took me to see "Dr. No," "From Russia With Love," "Goldfinger," and "Thunderball," I collected James Bond puzzles, a battery operated, James Bond, Aston Martin car, and a toy James Bond attache case, complete with plastic knife and exploding locks (powered by caps). Bond was my first and most enduring role model. The films inspired me to travel the world, develop an interest in scuba diving (although I settled for snorkeling, as a kid), and to learn as much trivia as I could. Bond always seemed to know something about almost any subject that came up. When I first traveled to France, from the UK, in 1990, I took the hovercraft across the channel, because Bond took one to Holland in "Diamonds Are Forever." James Bond and I even share the same initials. I have seen every Bond film more than once, except the latest, "Casino Royale," which I have only seen once, so far. Imagine my excitement to be walking right past the stage where the films were made.
The 007 Stage is a high building, bigger than any of the other stages I could see on the studio lot. It bears a big 007 logo and seems to dominate the buildings around it. Just past the Bond building, is the Stanley Kubrick Building, my destination. This building is named for another film legend, director Stanley Kubrick. He gave us monumental films including "Dr. Strangelove," "A Clockwork Orange," "2001: A Space Odyssey," "The Shining," and "Full Metal Jacket." I was greeted just outside the doorway by two women from the hair and makeup department. They escorted me inside and took my photograph. Then I joined some other actors waiting to see the costume department. I had a long wait, but I didn't care. I was being paid to be there. Besides, it just felt cool to be working in the motion picture industry, even if it was at a very low level. After my costume fitting, I walked back to my car, once again passing the 007 Stage. I remembered my long held dream to be in a Bond film. I am sure I would make a good Felix Leiter, Bond's CIA friend. Come on Barbara, what do you say?

That Damn Pritam!

While I was on location, at Waterloo, Wednesday, I received a missed call on my mobile phone, from my agent. They know I am on a shoot, so why are they calling me? I listened to the voicemail, but it was hard to hear with all the noise in the train station. With a heavy heart over the expense, I called back. A young man answered, then passed me to a woman, once he knew who I was. She said the film company I was doing the shoot for needed Americans to play the role of scientists, for a shoot on Friday. I would also need to attend a costume fitting on Thursday, at Pinewood Studios. In addition, she said she wanted to put me forward for a commercial shoot at the end of the next week. When I finished the call, I was pretty happy about having so much work coming in. Things had been pretty quiet for the first three months of the year.
The next morning, I was back at the restaurant where I work between acting jobs. Upon arrival, I immediately told the manager about needing to be off Friday, tentatively Thursday and Friday of the following week, plus about my costume fitting later that day. I suggested that I leave work in the afternoon, go to the costume fitting, then return and finish my work. I promised to stay late and make up any time I was away for. He's a great guy, so he agreed to my proposal. Not long after I started work that morning, one of the chefs came to me and offered me a entire tray of whole trout. If I didn't want them, they'd be thrown away. I was suspicious that this was a practical joke, so I checked with the Head Chef. He confirmed that there was nothing wrong with the fish and that I could indeed have them. There must have been around a dozen fish in the tray. I told him I couldn't use that many, but he suggested that I freeze them. I thought about it for a moment, then concluded that would be an excellent idea. He even gave me some suggestions as to how to cook them.
I went to see Chef Anthony and asked him if I could store the fish in the fridge in his work area. He told me he wasn't allowed to have meat or fish in his fridge and directed me to put the fish back in the main meat, walk-in fridge. Explaining to Anthony that I was going to a costume fitting that afternoon, I told him I was worried that the chefs would leave before I returned. As they locked the walk-in fridges before going home, the trout would be locked away from me. His little fridge isn't locked, which was why I wanted to use it. Anthony promised to leave it out for me, just before he went home. That seemed like a good plan.
At 1:30PM, I left the restaurant to go to my costume fitting. My fitting appointment was for 3PM, but I needed to stop home first and get the clothes I was instructed to bring with me. While I was waiting to see the costume people, at Pinewood Studios, I sent Anthony a text, reminding him to leave the fish out for me. He didn't send me any text in response. The costume fitting took much longer than I thought it would and I didn't get back to the restaurant until 5PM. Most of the staff had gone home and only the managers were left. Looking around my work area, I discovered there was no fish. I assumed that Anthony had forgotten to leave it out. Using my mobile, I called Anthony on his mobile. When he answered, I asked him what happened to the fish? He told me that he had put it out for me, but had placed the tray of trout in the racks of dirty pots and pans that needed washing. Subsequently, Pritam, my Nepalese co-worker, was instructed by the Head Chef to throw out some plaice that had gone bad. Pritam had taken the plaice and mixed it with my trout, then thrown all of it out. What an idiot! That prat had thrown away £50 worth of fish that I was getting for free. Fortunately, by the time I learned of this, he'd gone home already. Otherwise, I might have been tempted to throw him into the rubbish skip, after my fish.

Back At the Office

On Wednesday, I was back on location, at Waterloo International train station, in London. I had a comfortable call time of 9:30AM, so I didn't have to get up as early as I did on Tuesday. Film making involves a lot of waiting around, while cameras and equipment are set up. Unlike the day before, those of us who were background artists didn't spend as much time waiting in our base at the station (a pub rented out for the occasion). This time, we were let out onto the floor of the station much earlier in the day. As it was a sunny day, the station seemed very bright. Although there was still a lot of waiting around, there was so much more to see out on the floor, as compared to downstairs in the pub.
There were many attractive women strolling through the station. There may have been attractive looking men, but I don't tend to notice the men. When I observe people walking through the station, I like to imagine where they are going. Are they locals, or visitors? Business people, or tourists? Lovers or colleagues? I would really enjoy having a seat at one of the cafes or restaurants in the station, where I could sit all day with a laptop and write about the various things and people I would observe.
One thing I particularly enjoyed was seeing how many passers by would stop to see what was going on. The lights and cameras always tend to attract attention. It was fun telling them, "we're making a film," when they would ask what was happening. It was fun seeing their eyes sparkle with excitement. There's something about film making that makes even very mature persons come over with a feeling of magical delight, reminiscent of childhood. In one scene, we were standing in front of the train departures display board, looking up at the board as if we were passengers checking the departure platform of our desired train. The old, mechanical board has been replaced by a couple of electronic ones. I miss the old mechanical system. When the display would change on the old system, little digit tiles would flip over, making a flapping noise. I loved the sound of the rapidly flipping tiles. The new electronic system is silent. While looking at the board, I noticed a train departing for Basingstoke. It stopped at Hook, the village I used to live in with my beautiful ex-wife, the evil Black Queen. If I was still married, I would be catching that train. I looked around and wondered what I would do if I saw her strolling through the station. Thankfully she rarely ventured into London by train, as she didn't like big cities. A fellow background artist, an Indian man who said I could call him "Victor" and who befriended me the previous day, offered me a couple of vegetable samosas, from a Tupperware container in his bag. Gratefully, I accepted. There's nothing like vegetable samosas to take your mind off your evil ex-wife.

TV Alert!

Tonight, another Episode of "Seconds From Disaster," which I am in, airs on the National Geographic Channel, in the UK. Tonight at 9PM, on Sky Channel 526 (Virgin TV 230, Tiscali 112), the episode, entitled "Tornado Outbreak," can be seen. It's repeated at 10PM on Sky Channel 527. My part in this one is smaller than in the "Texas Oil Refinery Disaster" episode, but it will be fun to see me in something different. I play a weather radar operator and this time I do have my glasses on. If you missed the "Texas Oil Refinery Disaster" on the previous times it's been on, it will be on again this Tuesday night. American residents will have to check your local schedule for the National Geographic Channel, as the episodes air in a different sequence in the USA.

Good News, Bad News

My agent called again, today. When I called back, the woman I needed to speak to answered the phone. That's convenient. She said I didn't get cast in the TV show they put me up for. No one they submitted for it did. It would have been four days of work, if I had gotten it. Not getting that casting was the bad news. Don't you hate it when people say, "I have good news and bad news?" I do. And yet, here I am saying the same thing to you.
Now for the good news. The woman at the agency offered me two more days of work on "The Bourne Ultimatum," next week. When she asked if I wanted the work, I said, "of course." The film work should pay more than double what I get at the restaurant. I saw a trailer, online, over this past weekend, for "the Bourne Ultimatum," so I thought it was all in the can already. It's due out this summer. All of you make sure you go see it. It will be the first film in which I play two different parts.

Am I Being Type Cast?

Yesterday, my agent called. When I received the voicemail, I felt excited. Oh boy! Work!! Of course, me being me, I waited till I got home to call back. It's cheaper calling from my home phone than from my mobile. At home, I pulled up the number for the agency from the memory on my fancy, new, cordless phone handset. I love technology. The phone rang at their end. A woman answered and told me her name, which was entirely forgettable. I asked for the woman who had left me the message. The answerer asked my name. "Joseph Brennan," I said.
"What was that surname?" she asked again.
"Brennan," I replied.
"Can you spell that?" she asked.
I SHOULD have said...I should have said, "yes, T.H.A.T." Instead, I thought, "oh for fuck's sake," and said, "B.R.E.N.N.A.N." She put me on hold.
She came back off hold and said, "the person who called you was...," giving the exact same name as I had asked for when she answered. Duh! She then said that the woman was busy and could I call back tomorrow. It's nice to know they are so desperate to speak to me. "Hold everything, Mr. Brennan is on the phone."
"What time should I call back?" I asked, for further clarification. I didn't want a repeat of this fiasco.
"In the morning," she said. Gee, how specific. I agreed and hung up. Damn, that would mean using my mobile phone. Why the heck couldn't she just call me back? Maybe the agency owns shares in mobile phone companies. The real way they earn money is by luring desperate actors to call them from mobiles.
I decided to call at 10AM, during my breakfast break. So today, I pulled out my phone during breakfast, in front of my co-workers, and brought up the agency's number from the phone memory. I love technology. When the agency answered, I asked for the same woman I had asked for yesterday. Again, I was asked my name. I gave it, but this time the person who answered managed to understand me on the first go. The woman I needed to speak to came to the phone. Even though I had given my name to the person who answered, I said my name again and that I was returning her call. She sounded like she had no idea who I am. Great. I reminded her that she called me, yesterday, then she seemed to remember. She then asked me if I was available at the end of April and the beginning of May, for a couple of days of filming. "Sure," I said.
She went on to tell me that she wanted to submit me for some show for the Discovery Channel. "They want Americans," I heard her say. Am I being type cast as an American? It seems that most of the work I have gotten, over the past nine months, has been because someone was looking for Americans. At the end of the day, I don't care too much, so long as I get work. She asked me if it was okay for her to submit me for the show. What was I supposed to say? No? So I told her yes, to please submit me.
After I hung up, I turned to the Nepalese I call "Billy," who was seated to my left, and said, "that was my agent." You gotta love the pretentiousness of it.

A Heated Kitchen

For the past few days, at work the Head Chef has been away, so the Sous Chef has been in charge. Today, he seemed to be in a foul mood. He'd had me peeling onions this morning. The thing I don't like about peeling onions is that it's time consuming. Whenever I peel onions, I get behind on my other work. Today was no exception, so after our breakfast break, I was very busy trying to get caught up. At about 11:30AM, I was using the pot washing machine to wash the cookware. I was very busy, trying to get caught up before lunch. All of a sudden, Pritam came along, pushing a trolley loaded with shelving from the walk in fridges. He wanted to wash the shelves in the machine. I looked at Pritam and told him that he could have washed the shelving by hand, in place. It's quicker. He doesn't want to wash the shelves by hand , as it's more work. Using the machine is easier, although it takes longer.
The Sous Chef overheard me telling Pritam to wash the shelves by hand and yelled out that they can be put in the machine. The Sous Chef then walked up to where we were standing. I explained to him that if Pritam put the shelves in the machine, I wouldn't be able to use it for the stuff I was cleaning. This would result in me being late finishing and I don't get paid for any extra time, if I don't finish on time. The Sous Chef responded by screaming at me, calling me a lazy (expletive deleted, expletive deleted). As he walked off, I shouted after him, "if you ever speak to me that way again, I'll sue your ass." Pritam just got out of Dodge and took the shelves with him. Actually, Pritam had the best response. He just took the shelves to the plate wash room, which is quiet at that time of day, and washed them in the machine there. I wish I'd thought to suggest that.
About an hour later, the Sous Chef asked Chef Anthony to do something and Anthony complained. He accused the Sous Chef of sitting in the office with his feet up and not helping. Once again, the Sous Chef got angry. He stormed into the walk-in freezer and stats bringing out stuff himself. From the way he slammed the door, I got the sense that he was angry. After a few minutes, Chef Anthony joined him. Anthony started to walk away, again, when a package of frozen chicken is thrown on the floor, behind him. He decided that the Sous Chef had thrown the chicken at him, deliberately. This got Anthony angry and he picked up the frozen chicken and tossed it at the Sous Chef. The Sous Chef complained about that and they begin shouting at each other. Suddenly, Anthony announced that he'd had enough and was going home. He walked out, in the middle of service. The rest of us were a bit shocked. I've never seen a chef walk out before.
For the rest of the day, the Sous Chef was rather quiet. I guess he was brooding to himself. I joke around with Pino, Jum, and Phil, about leaving." The old saying goes, if you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen." It will be interesting to see if Anthony turns up in the morning.

Face the Music

Yesterday, I had a casting call to attend, for a music video. I had hesitated over applying for it. I never seem to get selected for any music videos I apply to be in, not that I have applied for that many. I think it was mainly the bother over getting into central London after working all day. It was good that I was talking about it to a close, personal friend, as she talked me into applying. The casting director emailed me, asking me to attend the casting on Thursday.
The traffic was a nightmare. I only just made it there, less than fifteen minutes before I was due. I spent more time waiting than I did actually being seen by the casting director, and some other folks connected with the production. Hopefully, one of them was the director. There were only three other guys there, applying for the same role as I was. The role is "a middle aged man." We were seen in pairs and had to dance for the casting team. I observed the guy who I think is the director. He seemed to be nodding his head as I was dancing. Hopefully, I am better than those other three. In a few minutes, it was over.
When I was back outside, I started feeling great about being in London, on a mild February night. Maybe, the almost full moon helped. I relocated from the Oxford Circus area to near Piccadilly. Eventually, I found a parking space and walked through Leicester Square, to Chinatown. I was out of chili oil and knew I could pick some up, there. Once I made my purchase, I headed back to the car. Quick in and quick out. Driving home, I contemplated my dilemma. I had told the Manager, at the restaurant, that I might need Monday off. He asked me to let him know, in the morning. I didn't expect to know by then. Thus, I faced a choice. I could arrange to have off anyway and hope I get selected for the music video, or I could work, risking that they will end up wanting me. The last time I was in this situation, I decided to work. Then, the night before, I was offered a chance to do the TV production involved, working with David Tennant. I ended up missing out, as I had committed to work at the restaurant. If I get the music video, it pays more than double what I earn at the restaurant. What to do?