Sunday, February 24, 2008

Wet Willies, Damp Divas

The award's name is Oscar, of course, but if they changed it to Willy, my headline would be very clever, wouldn't it? And I think it would humanize the affair: Imagine Meryl Streep or Michael Douglas opening the envelope and saying, "...and the Willy goes to..." I think it could work, don't you? I'm at work today, getting ready for the Oscar blitz. We've got three forms (48 pages) to move between noon and midnight today. That might not sound like much, but realize that every word, every photograph on those 48 pages has yet to be written or shot or edited. (Well, actually about eight of them have been, but that's not much, believe me.)

And it has been wet for the past couple of days. I was out on the roof of our building here at The Reporter, up on the 6th floor, looking north to Hollywood. The Goodyear blimp was hovering over Hollywood and Highland where the Kodak Theater is situated and, looking west, I could see another band of showers moving in from the sea, working their way east into the basin, about to douse the fabulousness below with yet another torrent of rain.

Getting to work today was a bit of a chore. Highland Boulevard, which I usually drive, is closed from Franklin on the north to Sunset Boulevard on the south. Hollywood Boulevard is closed from La Brea all the way to Cahuenga on the east. Yucca is closed. Hawthorn is closed. Orange is closed. Sunset is crammed with cars, as is Cahuenga. I had to head east, all the way to Gower (east of Vine on the map) before I found open travel.

Somebody just asked me how many of the nominated pictures I'd seen, and I had to admit it was none. I've seen a couple of the nominated performances in other films, but none of the big five. Even more reason to get on the screeners list here at work.

On the homefront, things are going well. We cleaned the fish tank yesterday, which is always a rather involved undertaking. The fish seem much happier, though. With the rain we've been having, we tend to stick around the house and watch DVDs a lot. Even with the tank cleaning yesterday, we went through all three of our Netflix rentals in one day. Today, I am at work and Steve will be going to his annual Oscar party at Steve and Roberto's. I've only met them at their annual Christmas party. They throw really good parties.

Beuford has migrated to beneath the greenery out on the patio. I think it takes him back to nature. Having been created on the Central Coast (in Halcyon, no less), I'm sure he misses the simple life. I considered taking him up north with me when I go to visit the moms and the cousins this coming week, but I think he'd put me over my weight limit, luggagewise.

And by the time you read this, the Oscars will be over and all the winners will be elated and everyone, winners and losers alike, will be partying until the wee hours of the morning. We will get the paper put to bed by midnight, and I'll be planning out my exit to the north.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Oscar Fever Chills

A quickie entry before I go into a meeting about Oscar Week and then into another meeting about Oscar Week. It sort of feels like Easter, since this is somewhat of a resurrection. Everyone was afraid that the writers' strike would go on all month and that the Oscars telecast would be boycotted and all those horribly famous and glamourous folks wouldn't walk the red carpet.

But that didn't happen. The strike settled and now everyone's in a frenzy. Personally, I don't think it's that big a deal. The most significance it carries for me is all the street closures in Hollywood and the fact that I have an extra-long Sunday to work next week. Sometimes I think I just don't get this town.

Nothing much happening on the homefront. Things go along as scheduled. The highlight of the week was discovering what great meat Trader Joe's sells. I will never shop for meat at Ralphs ever again. The biggest anticipation of the week is making a quiche for dinner. I made my first quiche a few weeks ago (a right of passage for every gay man) and it was a little too custardy for me (I just don't have the Julia Childs gene): This time, more eggs and less milk. Life is a cabaret for sure.

Beuford has migrated from the fountain to under the umbrella on the patio, since we're expecting bits of rain off and on all this week. It will be cool (in the 60s) and hopefully not too windy. This is Southern California; we're not supposed to have weather.

What I'm really looking forward to is the week off I have after the Oscars. I'm heading up to Arroyo Grande to visit with the moms and Cousin Rick and his wife Candy. And my sister Kittie and her husband Dave. It should be a nice decompression from the hectic world of Oscar fever.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Yo Grammy

Time for another entry. The weather has been really nice for the past couple of days, in the low 80s with clear blue skies. It's a nice change of pace after the few weeks of rain, wind and chilly weather we've had. (Here's a picture of Beuford cooling off in the fountain on the patio. You can tell by his expression that he's having a good time.) But this heat wave won't last long. By the end of the week it's supposed to plunge back into the low 70s. It was nice to be able to get out the Hawaiian print shirt and wear it to work yesterday, though. And being able to go to work without a coat is also pleasant. In a month or so, it will really start heating up, and I'll be complaining about that all summer and probably into October, what with global warming.

Some stuff has happened this week: First of all, the Writers Guild of America has settled its strike. We won't be seeing those pretty red-and-black signs being carried in front of the studio gates in town anymore. The settlement pretty much kicked the Grammys off the front page of The Hollywood Reporter (well, almost but not quite). It's kind of odd that the Grammy Awards was the only show that WGA gave a waiver, and then the writers settled on the weekend of the awards, pretty much upstaging them in the media. Good God, I do love Hollywood.

I didn't watch the Grammys. I think they are the most nonevent of all the awards, probably because I only recognize two or three people who were at the awards (Ringo Starr, Tina Turner and Herbie Hancock, shown here with his two Grammys). We still give them all the import of a show biz awards show, though; pretty much everyone comes in on Sunday to put the paper out and we get a free dinner (this time around it was California Pizza Kitchen. I got the BTL pizza, which is one of my favorites). I came in early (11 a.m.) so I left early (7:45 p.m.). Some folks stayed until midnight. Now all we have to get through are the Oscars on Sunday the 24th and the awards season will be over with. And I've got a week off once the Oscars are over. Thank God.

Everything at home is going fine. Steve is fine, though he had a low-grade cold this last week. It was nothing to knock him off his feet, but it was coughs and sniffles. He seems to be getting over it. I seem to be sidestepping all the bugs that are circulating at work. The art department was pretty much decimated last week, but folks are recovering. I guess that's as bad as winter gets here in Sunny Southern California.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Deep Reflections on Nothingness

It's about time for another addition to the blog page, even though a hell of a lot hasn't happened in the last week. And, because I believe no blog entry should be without pictures, I include this one that I really like of me and Baby, cousin Sandy's cockatoo. She totally fell in love with me when I visited a few years ago, and spent most of the time clinging to me adoringly. She's kind of a needy bird (or was back then) as you can see that she plucked all her feathers out. This, in birds, is a sign of neurosis. I suggested birdy couples therapy to Sandy, noting that her name (Baby) might be holding back her spiritual maturation (the bird's, not Sandy's). Hopefully, things have improved in their relationship.

Cousin Robin is back in New York and drops e-mails to me once a week or so about auditions and conditions in general in the Big Apple.(I checked my computer for "Robin" images but this was all I found. You can find lots at www.robinriker.com; maybe I'll steal some from there, if she's amenable.) I'm very jealous of her East Coast adventure, but she keeps saying how much she misses Evan (her hubby), I know I'd miss Steve if I was gone for a long period of time. Still, to be able to stroll around New York while pursuing your craft, that's a nice thing, even with the cold weather.

In fact, when I was in New York for the Baby picture above, Steve and I had just started dating, and I used to go into Central Park, lie on the grass and call him on my cell phone. He, in turn, seemed to always call whenever I was in a restaurant with people, just getting ready to order dinner. When you're courting, though, that kind of thing doesn't matter. Now I'd say, "I'll call you back later."

So I wasn't lying: There isn't a hell of a lot going on. But I did have to leave you with one last image. This is a favorite of mine. Now that all the big corporations are going over to flatscreen monitors, all those clunky old CRT models are piling up. Here's a photo of what one clever IT department decided to do with them. Who says hardware can't be creative?

One last note: Cousin Rick and his wife Candy are coming out to visit the moms at the end of the month, and I'm planning on taking some time off and getting in on the visit, since I haven't seen them in a couple years. I'm really looking forward to that. (I don't have any pictures of them on my computer either. I will have to remedy that.) I'll be by myself, since Steve's in a new job this year and not eligible for vacation until August. Three or four days apart. I think we can handle.