Wednesday, March 29, 2006
OK, so Payton, (my little angel,) was coming in a little under three weeks and I had become worried big Vinny maybe too much for her. Not saying he would ever hurt her. In fact, he was a very protective dog and that would only carry on to her when it was time. I mean he was as gentle as a butterfly when HE WAS CALM. My human best friend had a lab as well who greatly resembled Vinny's behavior. Three days before going to the hospital to induce labor for my goddaughter to arrive, he had made the hard decision to cut his dog's nuts off. The cahoneys had to go...
I had always and will always be against neutering full bred dogs. Vinny had begun to chew up things again, including my unborn daughter's stuff and had gotten excited on a walk and pulled me and himself into an electrical fence with enough volts to fend off cows. I had grown tired and gave into the advice my friend had given to take another approach.
The decision had not come easy. In fact, I had pulled him out of the surgery room at the last minute the first time I took him in. The second time, I walked in, handed his leash to the Vet's Assistant and beelined for the door, trying to not give myself a chance to pull out. I got into my car... Stopped... Got out of my car and finally fought myself to drive the car out into traffic sticking to my decision. All the way to the office I was nearly in tears....Sad that I had become so emotional over a freakin' dog.
I arrived at the office. I was completely detached when I grabbed my pen and wrote on an index card, "we will go with Option B," and showed it to Cutter and Wade. At first nobody said a word. OK, about five minutes had gone by when, "You know, I think we had always known that this was the way to go," Wade replied. "Yeah, " I mumbled. "Baby steps." "We're three country kids that just so happen to be intelligent despite what other people might think. We'll make it happen, regardless," Cutter said. And he was right. We had a plan. The plan was good and profitable whether it be big or small. I hated to lose that dream of having all the Stars come to my hometown and just to say, "Yeah, I did that." All egos aside, we would make more money off the Amateur route on this production and I should really accept the defeat and turn this negative into a positive. "Well, take down the Gauge Countdown. Damn," Wade said making his way to the counter. I paused for a moment. Wade and Cutter grabbed both sides of the sign. "Wait," I stopped
them. "Leave it up." They looked at me almost feeling bad that I would not part with it. "I'm gonna' call her anyway... See how much she would want to do it," I replied. They looked at me like I was crazy. "I gotta' go get my ballless wonder," I mumbled as I walked away. I looked back. They were still looking at me. "Ol, c'mon guys. It couldn't hurt. She's not gonna' black ball us for asking... The worst she could do is hang up on me."
I left the office.
I couldn't help but think about our decision, (or should I say my decision,) to aim lower on this first project, as I strolled through the Vet's office parking lot. I had almost forgotten what I was there for, but as they brought my dog to the lobby I knew I had made a mistake. He look pitiful and was stumbling around from the Narcotics they injected into him to perform the surgery. He looked like Jack Nicholson, after the labotomy they gave
him at the end of "One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest." As I paid the vet. He rested his head on my shoe. Drool began seeping through to my sock. He had been so loyal and this was how I repaid him... Then I thought about my decision on the Porn Film and nearly broke down in tears again.
Great, I have no balls at all.... And now he doesn't either.
Thursday, March 9, 2006
I sat in my pajamas from Saturday until Monday morning. They were warm and comfortable flannels even with my german helmet protruding from the crotch everytime I stood up straight. Thank God for the booze I consumed over the entire weekend for it kept me hunched over just enough not to show it off. I wasn't trying to draw pity. I wasn't doing it because I had watched "Leaving Las Vegas" the night prior to the pajama incident. I had heard a cool story that had stuck with me for years and I had never really had any reason to try it myself . Until now...
The story goes like this: When James Cameron was editing Titanic he had easily spliced together his six hour opus in record time. His vision had been so precise to what he had captured that he could play every moment out in his head before he even touched the editing bay. Then when it was time to piece together something as simple as the opening credits, he lost it... He and his editors could not come up with a powerful opening for the film. They sat for a week trying different things and just could not come up with anything that he felt was "perfect." After two weeks he had become completely frustrated. That Friday night, the editing team had left early and James sat.... And sat. He ran to the local liquor store and picked up a fifth of my favorite, Jose Cuervo. He went back to editing room and began doing shots, watching footage, trying to let out a little steam. The next morning, his producers and assistant editors entered the office to find James passed out in his chair. The bottle nearly empty and the playhead at the end of a clip. The producer noticed it and started the clip.... It was the opening credits Cameron had drunkingly cut together. Cameron had to be woken up, where his producers gave him an ovation. Cameron had no idea that he had even cut the clip. It was the one that made the final cut and he had no idea he had even done it.
OK, so now that the story has been told... I thought drinking myself into a stupor would allow me to figure out what the hell I was going to do about my movie. By Sunday, I didn't know my name let alone have any idea what the hell I was going to do. This drinking myself into problem solving mode had been a complete waste of time. Monday, I was showering.... Cleaning the funk off. I began shaving and realized that my double chin had gotten a little bigger... I tried to smash it back in and hope that it stayed, but it came right back... My chin had gotten bigger, overnight and I really had no control over it apparently... I had been working out at the gym and watching what I had been eating for over three months now... All that just to prevent the chin swelling I was disgustingly looking at this second.
Then the 'James Cameron' moment came.... I want say that I blacked out and when I woke up we were watching the finished product of our porn.... Actually the very opposite. I had just come to the realization that my "Option A" plan for the XXX film would never in a million years work. Just like my chin, all the preparation and prevent tactics in the world would not help... My dream of importing Gauge and other talents was exactly what I said it was... A dream. This was my first movie without Los Angeles, without Zak Wylde and without the normal $15,000 budget. I should aim lower.... That's it, call a meeting.
The Junk Pile
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