On To A New Week

The weekend ended in typical Portland Freelancer style. I watched my cable access show which was thrown together literally on the drive to edit it down. Of course, I added some foliage scenes from this Fall so there’d be a shot of traffic on Grand spliced in with a red tree from Mt. Tabor. Hey, it’s all art, baby.
My wife flipped over from her show during the commercials, upstairs in the living room – I spend a lot of time lurking in the basement. She had a hilarious review: “You know that part where you’re talking about the traffic lights on MLK? I just wonder about the people who go on watching. The people who say, “I can’t change the channel. I’m mesmerized by this.”” My wife can be very funny.
I went to print out my script and of course the printer ran out of ink. I don’t even flinch at times like these. I was very moved by the producer’s latest email. He has a documentary project coming out involving Peter Jackson of King Kong fame, not to mention Lord of the Rings, so the producer is in a great head space. He talked about how our karmas have become intertwined – not your typical producer talk. And not Brokeback Mountain talk either, if that’s what you’re thinking. We just became friends. He went through a stage where he seemed so remorseful about not getting a deal done, which is just crazy. We got past that and the new theory is we were just out of step with the powers that be. I’ll tell you this: I have access from God down there, and Leno had nothing to do with it. This is not a case of not getting my chance. My stuff gets rejected at the highest levels.
The key to being a freelancer is to enjoy the process. That might be all you get. I know comedians who act like they got screwed because they didn’t get a TV series or whatever. I didn’t go into this to become bitter. I’m trying to crack Hollywood like it was a safe. Uh oh. Maybe I’ve let on too much here. I play music out of artistic integrity. I write jokes partly to do good in the world, to be part of the fun side and alleviate misery. But Hollywood? Please. Let’s be real.