FLAIL AND RAVE

Ahhhh… An early spring afternoon. I’m having a couple of slices at Mama Lombardi’s, a Holbrook institution since 1976. There’s an open house at the Broadway abode for two hours, but as I have errands to run, it’s no big deal.

The cats always know when something is up, Emmylou especially. She’s very restless and concerned that I was rushing around this morning, cleaning and moving things around. I might try to get in short nap with them before I head back to Brooklyn this evening.

We were so out of it last night. I think I fell asleep at around 10 and couldn’t really get it together to get out of bed until 10. I’m still adjusting to the rigors of this gig. And probably by the time I am adjusted, it will be over. And who knows what’s next. There’s still a possibility of another job, the possibility that I would be assigned to this one, should it go to series. I do know I could use a little brain and spirit space, but I might not get it. And I will not complain. But I might note it.

What I am mostly doing is tracking the special effects shots, assigning them to studios to produce, making sure that they get from the film lab (although there is no film involved) and to those studios ASAP once they have been cut into the episode.  And then crunching numbers, squeezing numbers, massaging numbers, demanding numbers. I live on email and Excel. Better than reds, Vitamin C, and cocaine, I guess. 

Commuting to work on the subway is always a shock when you have been away from it. A young man had a psychotic breakdown on a crowded train one morning. He pushed his way onto a very crowded train, jerking his arms and head spasmodically, muttering things to Allah, and generally causing discomfort throughout the train, although he did not threaten anyone directly. By the time I got off at 23rd Street, he had cleared a good quarter of the car and had many seats to himself, no mean feat at that hour. He continued to flail and rave, showing no signs of recognizing his surroundings. I jumped off at 23rd Street and tried to run down the platform so that I could alert the conductor, but that was not really possible with that crowd. Fortunately, it was one of the stations that still had a human, so I could alert someone to get him help.

Back in Brooklyn and needing to head off to the film mines. Flail and rave, that sounds like my week last week.

So, I work on the third floor of the round building on the corner.My old gig at Possible Worlds was on the 19th floor of the tall building to the right of that. Not the one with the Apple sign, the one behind that.