Call My Agent!

I know now why agents, directors, and even key grips are protected by managers, other agents and private phone numbers. I actually had always planned even if I “made it big” to be a guy that was easily approachable. Maybe now-- Not so much. The Jeopardy Premiere is two weeks old and the phone calls and emails are only now starting to dwindle. People calling with their movie ideas, soliciting their unthought out ideas and wanting me to make their movies yet they have no scripts and no money. People... The economy is bad but number one-- I’m nobody. I’m not the guy on the TV with the question marks on his jacket with the next best money making idea. I’m a guy on the cusp of a career. I have no pull. None-- And I can’t help you. I’ve got my next two years filled of projects and plans lined up and there is a very small margin for additional anythings.

Now as crappy and high on the horse as it may sound, let me share something with you. The cold calls with ridiculous ideas like “acid trips” and “refurbished Quentin Tarantino crap” (That only Quentin can do, people,) are not only a waste of my time but also yours. I gave you the benefit of the doubt by listening and I’m only mad at myself from doing so. So then you call me names as I simply say, “I’m not interested.” So I retort with this: While you guys were out partying, struggling to pay your bills because you were an under achiever slack ass who sat around waiting for Daddy’s or the Government’s next hand out-- I was working and honing my craft-- Getting knocked down and getting back up. I was being told I would never make it. I was told my career choice was a figment of my imagination yet with every passing tomato to the face, I continued to work my tail off. Years after many misses, I suddenly began to hit and the work, humiliation, fear, anger and victory continued while you blamed getting married, having kids, the economy, the President and anything else surrounding you for your short comings. Guess what, I have all those things listed above and I KEPT WORKING. So excuse me if I’m short on somebody who hasn’t done his/her homework like I have. And excuse me for reigning on your under achieving parade. You will never see me roll in to a plumber’s shop and pitch those guys on the next great rubber washer, so the next time you want to pitch me “Pulp Fiction on LSD” or “The Pineapple Express - Hickory Style” I’ll tell you what everybody else says to fend that ridiculousness off: “Call my agent.”