Producers Trick Solved.

10AM yesterday morning I got a call to do a gig that afternoon. I'm glad to have the work, but it's always strange and slightly unnerving when it comes in so last minute. I never have time to prepare, or get information about the job.

I think I know where the fear stems from, I'm pretty sure it's attached to the first time I got a "last minute gig". I was working in the shop at Light and Sound Design (now PRG) when the touring personnel manager called me into his office and said, "You need to get on a plane tomorrow and fly to Mexico City, our Icon distributor down there has a show and no one to run the console. We'll have the plane ticket for you by the end of the workday."

And that was all the information I got. Not how long I was going to be gone, what the lighting rig consisted of, what the venue was, and best of all, who would meet me at the airport, and what hotel I'd be at. I did ask all these questions and the answer for each was, "I don't know either, someone will meet you."

This is probably the same place my dislike for Mexico City stems from.

This is also the gig that produced a number of great road stories, from the 40' x 40' square lighting grid held by a single one ton motor, to the guy who yelled at me and then took my chair. I guess panic and disorientation can heighten your ability to remember things.

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Back to yesterdays gig. Call comes in. I'm told the start time, I'm told the location, and I'm told the lighting console I'll be running. What I'm not told: what is the show, what kind of lighting fixtures I'll be running, and if I'm programming or just playing back/baby sitting. The guy I was replacing had other commitments at 3PM until the end of the work day, so who knows what he was doing prior to 3PM when I showed up.

Oh, and I'm only getting half a days pay. Which in most situations makes sense, but with union and most other TV shows, there is an understood "minimum" of hours work that I get paid for, whether I work 1 hour or the whole day, I get paid the minimum. All this was discussed with the producers, and I decided to do the job anyway as a "favor". It's always good to scratch some backs.

I prepared for the worst as I drove to the studio. I was straining to remember how to run the Hog 2. How to program chases and effects, store cues, edit cues, label. Everything was darting back and forth. What type of fixtures would I be running? How many moving lights? Will there be LED's? Will I need to chase them. How do I write a chase?

I arrive at the studio and am met by Steve, the guy I'm replacing. He walks me into the studio and shows me what's going on.

"Basically, we've got 78 2.4kw dimmers and 12 6kw dimmers. It's patched one to one and as guys hang lights, they'll yell out the dimmer numbers, you just bring them up, then Serge, the DP (Director of Photography) will set the level and then you just store it in this cue. There's two sets, so we have two cues. Good luck."

That's it? A bunch of lekos and fresnels? No moving lights? No LEDs? No chases? EASY DAY.

Steve introduced me to the gaffer, who I immediately recognized from another studio I've done work at. He pointed at me and said, "Coke Slurpee?" and I nodded and replied, "My brother from another mother!" We laughed and shook hands and got to work. Knowing the gaffer made this day even easier.

I sat behind the Hog 2. It's been a while since I'd seen one in use. They are no longer supported so you rarely see anyone use them. Just to show how old this console is, it came with the original monitor. When was the last time anyone used a CRT monitor on a show? Years I tell ya, years.

Turns out the day was going to go longer than expected. One of the producers kept coming into the studio and checking on progress. Producers are the bean counters so this guy didn't want to spend anymore money than he had to. At one point I over heard a loud conversation with him and the gaffer that started with the yell, "Don't look at your watch!"

Soon after, the gaffer came up to me and said, "I figured out this producers trick. He wants us out of here as soon as possible so he keeps asking me different questions to trip me up.

"First he came in and asked, 'will you be done by nine?' And without looking at my watch I replied, 'I think so,' to which he nodded with a sly smile and left the room. Then I looked at my watch and discovered it was 8:50, and there was no way we'd be done in 10 minutes! So I had to chase him down and tell him we'd be here at least until 10:30."

The gaffer continued, "He then came back and this time asked me, 'will you be done in an hour?' But I knew better and started to check my watch when he started yelling, 'Don't look at your watch!' So I replied, 'We've only got 9 more lights to hang, that's how long we'll be.'

"To which the producer replied, 'So an hour?'"

"'Only nine more lights,' I replied with a coy smile. I figured out his trick."

...

Garbage Chevy Volcano Wine.

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Opala.

I did an internet search for that word. The reason will be explained later.

The first hit is the one that made the most sense to me. Being from Hawai'i, Opala has always meant "garbage". So why not have the domain name: opala.org? Since "Don't Mess With Texas" is taken, we get "Don't dump on Hawai'i. Sort it out."

This also means that any result on the internet search after this will result in snicker, because now everything is just "garbage".

Second on the hit list was the Chevrolet Opala (*snicker*). Guess this car was only sold in Brazil and never in America. And especially not in Hawai'i. The only Opala vehicles in Hawai'i pick up the Opala.

Third is Opala, a Stratovolcano located in southern Russia (*chortle*). Can you imagine an Opala volcano spouting Opala?

The fourth hit was a site under construction for some Australian Shepard dog. I couldn't figure out if the dog's name was "Opala" or the breeders were "Opala". Either way, they probably won't sell many dogs in Hawai'i. Even with the relaxed quarantine rules for animals.

Which brings me to why I did the internet search to begin with. A couple of weeks ago, Whole Foods was running a sale/pushing an item, that I just had to buy. Yep, it's Opala, the wine (*tee hee!*). It's a white. No, I didn't fill the bottle with water to make it look like there's something in it. It really is a very clear white wine. We finally popped it open a couple of days ago. I'm very happy to see Nicole branching out and trying white wines. She really is a fan of reds and the only stipulation she makes about whites is, "not too sweet, dry is better."

Whole Foods was advertising it as a "dry crisp white", so for 6 bucks, why not. Here's what we discovered. The bouquet of the wine is very lightly floral (which begs the question, was it because of white wine, the "smell" of the wine is referred to as the "bouquet" since most whites smell floral?). The first tastes of this clear white wine were just that, clear. There was no initial taste. It was like drinking water. After the wine rolled back there was finally some semblance of sweetness.

That's about it. I don't know what else to say. I'm no sommelier. I did like the wine. Although I don't know that I'd purchase it again.

It is, after all, "Opala" wine.

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It's July 27th. Now What Do I Do?

I've got my post Superbowl blues at the end of July.

They always make fun of football fans after the Superbowl, and to a lesser extent the Pro Bowl, are finished. People walking around aimlessly, wondering what to do with themselves until the start of the football season in the fall. Blank stares.

My Superbowl was the Tour de France. It's over. My man Contador won this year, despite the in-fighting on his team. Now I'm wondering what to do with myself until next July. Blank stares.

So to combat this, I decided to do a camera dump and get all the pictures off my... cell phone. Yep. pulled all the pictures that's I've taken over the last, 4 years maybe? Here's the highlights. I don't think the pictures are in any particular order, that's just how they showed up in the file.Here is Ipolani and our heater dish. The funny thing is, on the box that the heater came in, there's pretty much a picture exactly like this.I'll stick with the cold theme for now. Here's a shot outside our hotel in... Texas. Yep. Snow in Texas. It was snowing so hard that we had a hell of a time getting to the hotel. Granted, this is Northern Texas, in the pan handle. So maybe it snows there all the time. I don't know. All I know is, it's cold.This I found humorous. At a WalMart on the border of Oregon and Washington state, we stopped to pick up some shotgun shells for our Sporting Clays outing. And what did I find stacked next to the Remington 12 gauge sporting loads?Ah, first class. I don't know why I took this picture. It's either to illustrate the drink you get while boarding is happening, or the fact that the armrests are so wide, you can rest your drink on it.This picture is for my Mother-in-Law. I hope she finds it funny.This was quite a hard photo to take considering I'm driving my truck while I'm taking it. I don't remember where I was going, but I know it was in Los Angeles. There is a lot of crap on the freeways in Los Angeles. Plastic bags and lots of other road debris are always being kicked up and floating around while you whizz by at 70 miles per hour. Amazingly, the tip, and I mean tip of my antenna caught this piece of plastic wrap as it floated towards my car. How often will you see something that amazing happen?Here's Kolohe finding a comfortable spot to lie down.This is Nani Cat. I named her as such, because, well, I don't know why. She was a feral cat at the venue in Istanbul, Turkey where Shakira played. She was, as you can see, very friendly. I felt bad for her because she'd go up to some people who I guess didn't like cats, and they'd swat at her or chase her away. She just wanted to be pet.Also in Turkey. I guess they have square butts.At the airport in Nice, France, they have an area with a bicycle repair stand that you can build your bike when you land. How cool is that?A while ago, I was told that my cholesterol "elevated" it wasn't out of the normal range, and I didn't have high cholesterol, but the doctor told me I should watch what I eat. So for a while on tour, I tried to be good, and this was my typical breakfast. It sucked. THIS is what breakfast should look like. Loco Moco at the Kuhio grill in Hilo.On my first outing to try Sporting Clays at the Sandanona club in upstate New York, we stopped at the Orange County Choppers store to look at the goods. Here's the custom ride they built for Lance Armstrong.Me at my 20th high school reunion trying to get liquored up on gin and tonics. Too bad it was a cash bar and I didn't bring much cash.Here's my brother Matt at his bachelor party dinner at the Moroccan restaurant in Kailua. We hired the belly dancer. And she got him up to dance. And let me tell you that boy can shake his hips. They certainly don't lie.And finally, the catheter they put in my arm the first time I tried to get a CT Scan. It was never used. Installed, but never used. Removed 2 hours later.


My son, Sean Patrick. What a cutie. This picture wasn't taken by my cell phone. But I had to put it in anyway.

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