Thursday, March 31, 2016
A Pause For Shameless Capitalism
From time to time, part of working in "the biz" in Hollyweird means I have to actually, y'know, work in it. (Eww! Icky, right?) And they have this annoying habit of making pilots (90% crappy by actual tally, but the checks still cash, and the days still count), on days which run every day of several weeks straight, for 12+ hours, plus my drive time. Which means I go into wake up/work/come home/sleep/wake up lather-rinse-repeat mode. For weeks.
Followed by the mailman making it rain paychecks for a couple of weeks, so it's not so bad.
And, mirabile dictu, they feed me. C'est magnifique! (Burp!)
Having been away from it for awhile, I'd rather forgotten how truly godawful boring it is to watch other people work all day. (Doing what I do, it's really good for everyone else when I'm not working at all.) And I actually missed the 12-hour sheen of sweat-under-my-scrubs pace of the ED. Just a little. But I really and truly love the business, the medium, and most of the people who work in it, when they're actually doing what we pay them to do: entertain the hell out of us, when they're doing it right. It really is quietly fascinating. And frequently punctuated by stupidity which cannot be accurately measured with existing instrumentation. Sometimes on the same day, but usually comparing Show A with Show Z.
(Hint to the audience, DO NOT work on Show Z if you have a choice, those people are seriously effed up! Unfortunately, you don't know you're on Show Z until you're on Show Z.
Like having a dream about being on an ocean voyage, you never see the life ring that says RMS Titanic until you're well out to sea. WTF, right?)
It's also concurrently been time for a plethora of annual re-certs in everything from my routine workplace skills to the truly arcane ones, all of which have to be completed, recorded, and proof forwarded to any number of other entities. Who also pay me, so I can feed myself.
So the bank account is getting fattened, as I am, while the blog suffers.
The good news is that it's sunny and 70s to near 80s here every day. And I have a new non-flourescent-light tan, courtesy of Fox, Paramount, Universal, Disney/ABC, and Warner Bros. So I can set about burning off some of this year's prodigious winter fat layer, and get back to something approaching svelte and beach-ready, so that my doctor and my blood pressure like me again.
And yes, as before, any number of things interest me, inspire me, or seriously piss me off, and the world continues apace hellbound and ensconced in a convenient handbasket. My list of potential blog-topics is beyond counting at the moment, while I've been at zero time to actually accomplish any of them.
So normal blogging will resume momentarily. Which, depending on whether you agree with me or not, is either a good thing, or a bad thing.
Even so, I hope anyone who drops by is employed, healthy, and relatively happy.
As for myself, I'm tanned, I'm fit, I'm rested, and I'm financially more or less secure.
So it's probably time to get back to poking some bears.