Year One: Week 11, Catch 22
Yes, I had to go back through the calendar and see how many weeks it has actually been. Honestly I started to lose track and I’m fairly certain that there is a strain of depression taking hold in the deep recesses of the mind. I used to write in little notebooks about this creeping madness that eats away at your soul when you’re sitting idle and not doing what you’re supposed to be doing. It’s eating soup with a fork. It’s Superman taking a vacation from all of the saving the world and going to work as a fraud investigator at a multi-national bank. It’s working for 15 years towards a goal and then having it taunt you just out of reach… I want to get past this invisible barrier, throw a chair right through it’s transparent pane and take that necessary step toward attaining my dream. Unfortunately in this town, they arrest you for looting.
I’ve been doing a fair amount of research on how to best attain these dreams (as I probably should have done before the wife and I decided to leave our jobs, pick up and move to a new city, and throw caution into a ceiling fan – only to have it splattered across the room and stain the carpet). There are long drawn out methods and mind numbing ways to go about the proper channels. Most of them I don’t understand and they include working in or with unions. I don’t understand unions, and I’m certain that they make it purposely difficult to understand and become part of this work group. In Tennessee, I didn’t need to join a union. For 4 years in San Francisco, I didn’t have to join a union. When we ran into union situations, it was a huge pain in the ass to get anything done. Union members get preference for the best jobs. You can’t get the jobs if you’re not part of the union (in most cases), and you can’t become part of the union unless you have a shit-load of days working that job. That’s what I’ve gathered so far… I could be wrong. Again, they make it difficult to understand. Is so much of a pain in the ass that I don’t want to pursue the camera union local 600. I’d rather go the route of the DGA, but they make it even more difficult.
As I’ve been looking for jobs and trying to meet people, I get some positive feedback – and others just look at me as though I have a throbbing dick on my forehead. The positives have been nice, “You’re so talented. You’re going to find something great. It’s only a matter of time.” The aliens have been, “Oh, well best of luck.” I would like to think that I’m a pretty talented individual. I’ve done a lot of work and have a fair amount of things to show for it. The “luck” on the other hand has been a little hard to come by.
I’m coming to the conclusion that in this town you either have to become someone’s assistant for 2 to 3 years or go it alone, go into debt, beg borrow and steal, and hope that someone is paying attention to the hard work and potential talent on the other side of the story… or you’ve just wasted time, money, and have nothing to show for it.
I’m writing scripts for various purposes. I have a friend who wants to work with me on a project in the near future. The basis of all of the hopes and dreams is keeping my fingers crossed and sweating my ass off in this apartment. I don’t know who convinced people that you can make it with wall unit air-conditioners in Los Angeles. Not at the price we’re paying for rent. Pacifica, maybe… but not Los Angeles. And we’ll end up moving back to fucking Mississippi if I can’t pay rent here… which would require a job… which requires a union… which requires a job. Maybe I’ll invest in an Ikea chair instead. I’ll be living in it soon if this shit continues.