a week on set

I get a one-week job for an Emmy-winning TV show whose name I cannot reveal.

Before I even arrive on set, I have two separate appointments in Brooklyn. One for a COVID PCR test. Then the next day for another COVID test and a fitting. Then two more COVID tests later in the week. 

The shoot begins Monday at 6:42 am and will continue all week.

I am first sent to wardrobe. Everything is pressed and organized.

Next I go to hair. I come out looking like Nancy Reagan. (The scene is from decades ago). I could be caught in a tornado and my hair wouldn't move.

Then makeup, where I fall in love with the artist who will be recreating me this week.

Three hours after arriving I'm ready.

The day is long. 14 hours.

I am paid $237. A  SAG background person gets paid $460 for the same hours, same work. I'd love to be union but it's hard to get in.

I do this for four days.

One day we get in at 8:12 (odd call times) and are not on set until about 5.

One night I forget my wallet, earrings, and driver's license.

Another night I buy a sandwich on my way home at 9:30 then forget to take it with me.

My mind is barely functioning by the time the day ends.

But...

It is the most organized, buttoned-up show I've worked. The seasoned director creates an easygoing atmosphere; his professionalism is always apparent, as well as his calm and humorous demeanor.

The crew makes it a point to mention how important the background actors are, and how much our work is appreciated.

It may be a small gesture, but it's an important one. 

Mostly, though, we sit around and wait.

But I end up talking to some very nice, funny and interesting people from all different backgrounds. An ex-music exec. More than one teacher. An editor. A police firearms instructor. An elite runner. A cantor. A Broadway dancer. An ex-female bodybuilder. And more.

And it's an overall good-looking group. It's hard not to be intimated by some of the gorgeous people playing background.

The work is mostly boring. Sitting all dressed up looking exactly the same, every day, and listening to the same dialogue repeated over and over.

Still... it's hard not to be enthralled with the glamour of Hollywood glitz.

really, yeti?

I love my Yeti mug. Use it for my coffee every morning.

But the other day I realize that the little piece on the top has disappeared.

This means my coffee doesn't stay hot, since the covering for the spout is now always open.

So I call Yeti. Get a very nice person on the phone. And she says she'll send me out a replacement piece.

A week goes by. 

One day my doorman hands me two packages.

I can't imagine what these are since I've recently ordered nothing.

I open them and both boxes appear to be filled only with paper.

But then, almost by chance, I find something that has some shape.

I unwrap it and find this:

Two separate boxes. 

One for each of two eensy weensy magnetic tops, both of which could have easily fit into a regularly sized letter envelope.

Oh, those poor trees.

 

becoming someone else

Last night I set my alarm for 4:45, and go to bed around ten.

That gives me exactly enough time to shower, blow dry my hair, put on some makeup, dress and be out the door by 5:15 am.

I'm working background for a new TV series.

The city is quiet. The sun hasn't risen yet. It's a nice time to wander the streets.

I decide to walk, as later it will be too hot. And it's only a couple of miles. 

Still, I'm dripping wet by the time I arrive, a little before six. We've been given a six a.m. call time.

I wait on the steps of the historic St. Bart's Church with about twenty others.

We are let inside at about 6:20. Twenty minutes. That's when we're told that the call time was changed to 7:30. The update came late and some of us never saw it.

We are not happy, having missed an extra 90 minutes of sleep

We take another COVID rapid test (in addition to the PCR test we all took yesterday). I like that the shooting environment is safe.

Next comes hair. The show takes place in the late 70's to mid 80's.

The hair person says she'll put my hair up. This will be nice, I think.

But then she starts teasing it and it becomes all pouffy on top.

I like the front pieces hanging. But to look the part (I'm playing an upscale diner in a restaurant) she pins all my hair down in the front, and leaves it bouffant-like on the top. Then she sprays my hair until it feels like spun cotton candy.

My vision of a cool look instead becomes a vision of a 90-something hag. 

The back is interesting, though I wouldn't say pretty.

The front is too severe. 

Next is wardrobe.

I see some women in some very decent clothes. 

The men are given wide ties, one a light green shirt, another a striped top with a patterned jacket. We should all be grateful for the current styles.

The dress I get has a dizzying pattern, is shapeless, frumpy, frighteningly unattractive, and 100% polyester. But... and this is important, it is comfortable, even with the pantyhose all the women are required to wear. 

I look like a very old Mrs. Doubtfire, but not as pretty.

I look in a mirror and don't recognize myself. We have to walk to our location (just a half block away). I fear running into someone I know. But if I do, I'll just deny being me.

The rest of the day is fine. We just pretend to dine in a nice restaurant (with real food that we  fake eat).

And at 3:30 we're dismissed. 

I can't wait to put on my own clothes. Wipe all the makeup off. And pull apart my hair.

It feels good to return to being me.

easy peasy, sort of

Yeah. I get it. I almost never fly internationally. So why do I need a Global Entry card?

Well, here's why.

It's only $15 more than the TSA precheck, and it's inclusive of it, so why not?

In March, I go online and easily fill out an application. I am conditionally approved.

Next, I need an interview. 

There are only two places in NYC that offer interviews. One is at JFK and the other is in lower Manhattan at Bowling Green. But both are closed for interviews, though I am encouraged to keep trying.

I do, and finally a slot opens. For July 14. The trees are still bare since afterall, it's only March.

I'm told I'm lucky I only have to wait four months.

So today is my interview. The subway is so fast that I arrive 40 minutes early. 

No problem. They are ready and take me right away.

It's empty. Just five agents and me.

I hand over my passport and am asked two questions. My address, and, "Have you ever been arrested?" Good I can answer no.

The agent takes my fingerprints. Tells me my card will arrive in a couple of weeks. 

Five minutes after arriving, I'm done.

Looking forward to my next flight, wherever that may be.

airport inflation

Like the plane ride to Burbank, the ride home is on time.

Before boarding, I buy a packaged sandwich and a couple of drinks.

It's been a while since I've flown...

Almost makes the cost of gas seem reasonable.

dom and michael get married

It's another perfect California night. And Dom and Michael are getting married. 

Alexander and I board the shuttle bus that will take us to Lakeside Country Club.

The venue is perfect, nestled between a golf course on one side and the mountains on the other. 

The flower-laden path welcomes those who walk it or, like the couple's dog Ricky, are carried.

Until Michael met Dom, he disliked dogs. Amazing what love can do.

The sixteen youngest guests look like ethereal nymphs. 

Michael waits.

As The Father of the Bride walks Dom down the aisle.

The ceremony, performed by both a chaplain and a rabbi, is perfectly blended.

For me, anyway, the most touching moment is Dom's speech. Her voice quivers as she talks of her love for Michael. She says that for the first time in her life, she understands the term, "You'll know," when you are lucky enough to find the one. Michael wipes a tear from Don's face as she speaks. How lucky she is to have found that person. 

Michael is the youngest brother of three. Adam and Jason are his older married brothers. They both have gorgeous wives and children. And until Dom was introduced to the family, no one knew much of anything about Michael's dating life in LA. He waited, until he too, met the one.

And in the Jewish tradition, Michael breaks the glass.

And the couple is married.

There are some pictures.

 

Some speeches.

Some dining. 

Some dancing.

Some chance meetings.  

my mom with Joe Pesci

And some sleeping.

Despite this wedding being relatively high-profile, the mood throughout is relaxed. 

It really is a magical night.