Third grade boy- "You look like that actor." Me- "What actor?" Third grade boy- "He's in that movie, uh I can't remember the name of it, but he got shot. You look like him." Third grade girl- "Yeh he does." It's been a couple of months, since I've done any substitute teaching. I wasn't in the mood to teach today. The teacher didn't leave a lesson plan. I let the kids draw for a few hours, while I tried to stay awake. One girl said, "Mr. Greene, so and so said you are falling asleep." I said. "Tell her she's only imagining it." The two stared at me, and didn't respond.
I worked at Nickelodeon from 1994-2001. I did have a year in between in Seattle. I used to say Nickelodeon was a studio of has beens along with up and coming or likely to disappear types. All kinds drifted in and out the studios. One day between shows, a couple of guys were on the sound stage doing some measuring, talking about where sets would go and some other stuff that I didn't catch. I noticed that one of the guys was a grown up Malcolm Jamal Warner, of Cosby Show fame. My friend Steve R. was staring at him, and finally says, "You look so fucking familiar." Warner replied, "Maybe from the Cosby Show." Steve replies, "No, what high school did you go to?"
Another time we had some magician on the show. He was supposedly famous. I don't know. He asked for a couple of prop guys to do something. Steve and I were sent over to help. The guy was very anal, I wanted to leave. He pulls out a bunch of paper work, and asked us to sign a release. Steve R.- "What's this for?" Magician- "I want you to sign this so that you don't give away any of my secrets." Steve- (laughing) "I can't even remember what I had for breakfast."
Tonight I may run into Steve at Taste restaurant along with some of the crew from Nickelodeon. It's the scene of a fundraiser for Brian our friend, who also worked at Nickelodeon and is still hospitalized. I don't want to be overly speculative on his condition, but I'm hopeful. There are signs that seem good, he's opened both of his eyes, but still in a coma. He has slight fever too along with pneumonia. I don't know what all of this pieced together means. I feel like the assessment must be much more complicated than that.
It's nice to see the old crew, but I wish the circumstances were different.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
We've Got A Bicycle To Build
I was in Miami for twelve days, working at one of the Art Basel parallel events for a group of art dealers out of New York. I'm still trying to process the experience. I'm working on putting an art show together, probably in April. Some of the artists are people that I came into contact with in Miami.
Housing wasn't provided while I was in Miami. I stayed with my father two nights in Ft. Lauderdale, with Rat Bastard the night of the free Iggy and the Stooges show on the beach. The night before Rat played at Churchill's for free with the Stooges sax player Steve Mackay. I also stayed in a motel on Biscayne Blvd., a few blocks from Churchill's. Jane recommended it. It was cheap, spartan and maybe a little sketchy. Jane provided these disclaimer's before hand. I was looking for a place that would be unaffected by Art Basel. The first few nights, I stayed in the basic $41 a night room, yes I said $41. After staying there a couple of nights the woman at the front desk asked me if I would be interested in an upgrade, for $46 I could get a room with a king size bed. I took it. After getting my first good nights sleep in weeks, I spent a few minutes trying to get the door open. I told the woman at the front desk that they need to tighten up the door handle, she said she would send someone over at 3PM. She also suggested that I leave all my valuables in the car, just in case. "I can't vouch for the locksmith's honesty." Later that night when I tried the door, I thought it doesn't feel loose anymore. It's fixed. The next morning the door wouldn't open, after a few minutes I called the front desk and said I'm locked in the room. A crew arrived within what seemed like a minute. They were trying to pry it open, then the old Asian guy who is part of the family that runs the place yells something to me in a strong accent. I didn't understand him at first, "What?" I asked. "Mister, get away from the door!" I stepped back, the door handle came flying across the room, he'd hit it with a hammer. He still needed a pry bar to get in. I was twenty minutes late for work.
I mentioned I saw Iggy. I also saw Deerhoof, Gang Gang Dance for free, different nights. I missed Japanther. Ariel Pink played downtown for $15.
I got comps for Rat and his girlfriend Veronica for the Deerhoof show. They brought Steve Mackay with them. The show was $15 for people that weren't comped. It was a benefit for an unnamed art museum in New York. It was $200 to get in at 4PM, the price gradually went down every hour or so. At 8:30 it was down to $15. The early $200 were collectors or dealers. The $15 were mostly indie-rockers there to see Deerhoof. The lady at the door works with the museum in NYC. She couldn't find Frank Falestra a.k.a. Rat Bastard or Veronica on the list. My bosses forgot to put their names on the list. I was trying to explain as the rigid woman third degreed Rat and Veronica. Veronica then deadpans, "Have you tried looking under the name Rat Bastard?" Rigid woman didn't find any humor in this, and maybe she wasn't supposed to. Rigid woman is probably unaware of the legend of Rat Bastard. I eventually talked the woman into letting them in.
I got back to Orlando around midnight last Monday. I had barely checked my email for the past couple of weeks. Tuesday morning I went through my emails. Katie Ball sent out an email saying that a good friend, Brian Maguire had been in a motorcycle wreck and is in a coma. A couple hours later Aaron my insurance agent/friend/former and possibly future bandmate called me. He said Brian isn't expected to make it. Aaron was choked up. I started to feel the tears, I felt like I'd lost control of my vocal chords. Brian, may be the best person on the planet. I know you always hear things like that at a time like this. A little over ten years back, Brian gave me his pick up truck. Judith, his girlfriend at the time and a longtime friend of mine, said, "I can't believe you gave the truck to Pat, we could've made some money. Brian-"Hey, Pat's my friend." Judging by the crew at the hospital waiting to see him and the crew at his benefits, everyone is his friend.
I had called Brian before I went to Miami. I asked if he would be interested in working at Art Basel, he said he wanted to take it easy. We talked about building a bicycle when I returned. He said he has a bunch of bicycle parts. He's been building bikes for years. I hope we get to build that bike together someday. He opened an eye yesterday, when a nurse touched him. I suggested that she needs to touch him more. We've got a bicycle to build.
Housing wasn't provided while I was in Miami. I stayed with my father two nights in Ft. Lauderdale, with Rat Bastard the night of the free Iggy and the Stooges show on the beach. The night before Rat played at Churchill's for free with the Stooges sax player Steve Mackay. I also stayed in a motel on Biscayne Blvd., a few blocks from Churchill's. Jane recommended it. It was cheap, spartan and maybe a little sketchy. Jane provided these disclaimer's before hand. I was looking for a place that would be unaffected by Art Basel. The first few nights, I stayed in the basic $41 a night room, yes I said $41. After staying there a couple of nights the woman at the front desk asked me if I would be interested in an upgrade, for $46 I could get a room with a king size bed. I took it. After getting my first good nights sleep in weeks, I spent a few minutes trying to get the door open. I told the woman at the front desk that they need to tighten up the door handle, she said she would send someone over at 3PM. She also suggested that I leave all my valuables in the car, just in case. "I can't vouch for the locksmith's honesty." Later that night when I tried the door, I thought it doesn't feel loose anymore. It's fixed. The next morning the door wouldn't open, after a few minutes I called the front desk and said I'm locked in the room. A crew arrived within what seemed like a minute. They were trying to pry it open, then the old Asian guy who is part of the family that runs the place yells something to me in a strong accent. I didn't understand him at first, "What?" I asked. "Mister, get away from the door!" I stepped back, the door handle came flying across the room, he'd hit it with a hammer. He still needed a pry bar to get in. I was twenty minutes late for work.
I mentioned I saw Iggy. I also saw Deerhoof, Gang Gang Dance for free, different nights. I missed Japanther. Ariel Pink played downtown for $15.
I got comps for Rat and his girlfriend Veronica for the Deerhoof show. They brought Steve Mackay with them. The show was $15 for people that weren't comped. It was a benefit for an unnamed art museum in New York. It was $200 to get in at 4PM, the price gradually went down every hour or so. At 8:30 it was down to $15. The early $200 were collectors or dealers. The $15 were mostly indie-rockers there to see Deerhoof. The lady at the door works with the museum in NYC. She couldn't find Frank Falestra a.k.a. Rat Bastard or Veronica on the list. My bosses forgot to put their names on the list. I was trying to explain as the rigid woman third degreed Rat and Veronica. Veronica then deadpans, "Have you tried looking under the name Rat Bastard?" Rigid woman didn't find any humor in this, and maybe she wasn't supposed to. Rigid woman is probably unaware of the legend of Rat Bastard. I eventually talked the woman into letting them in.
I got back to Orlando around midnight last Monday. I had barely checked my email for the past couple of weeks. Tuesday morning I went through my emails. Katie Ball sent out an email saying that a good friend, Brian Maguire had been in a motorcycle wreck and is in a coma. A couple hours later Aaron my insurance agent/friend/former and possibly future bandmate called me. He said Brian isn't expected to make it. Aaron was choked up. I started to feel the tears, I felt like I'd lost control of my vocal chords. Brian, may be the best person on the planet. I know you always hear things like that at a time like this. A little over ten years back, Brian gave me his pick up truck. Judith, his girlfriend at the time and a longtime friend of mine, said, "I can't believe you gave the truck to Pat, we could've made some money. Brian-"Hey, Pat's my friend." Judging by the crew at the hospital waiting to see him and the crew at his benefits, everyone is his friend.
I had called Brian before I went to Miami. I asked if he would be interested in working at Art Basel, he said he wanted to take it easy. We talked about building a bicycle when I returned. He said he has a bunch of bicycle parts. He's been building bikes for years. I hope we get to build that bike together someday. He opened an eye yesterday, when a nurse touched him. I suggested that she needs to touch him more. We've got a bicycle to build.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
