Early Dismissals

Remember when you were in elementary school and right around ten in the morning it would start snowing? You knew that there was some chance, some small chance that there would be an early dismissal and you could get home early (hopefully avoiding that third period Social Studies class that you forgot to do homework for). Well, it isn't the dead of winter, and we haven't had any severe weather threats as of yet, but by some stroke of luck I’ve been getting out of the office 2-3 hours early every day this week. You could have believed just how surprised I was when I found out that I’d have an early dismissal today once again. It was like a gift from God. The other gift from God was that, for the entirety of this week, Ms. Wilkes has been absent. That's right. Gone. Sure, she'll call in once in awhile, but it gives me a chance to catch up on that Netflix instant view and some...extremely...back filing...we're talking Library of Congress type filing (we'll touch on how to become an expert filer next week).

Also on next week’s menu we'll discuss my top ten worst experiences thus far (absolutely not to be missed), the craziest things Ms. Wilkes has EVER done as well as a special guest blogger who will sit in and vent about their equally frustrating experiences as a creative executive on the West Coast (also not to be missed).

We've got Sorority Row to look forward to this weekend in the film world. I expect to see you all there to show your support for what promises to include terrible acting (Rumor Willis) and plenty of scantily clad Sorority girls running across the screen (let’s hope NOT Rumor Willis).

Until then, have a great weekend. Mine starts...now.

Last Names

There's no doubt about the fact that while on the battlefield you're going to come across some incredibly wacky last names, all of which will be your responsibility to pronounce CORRECTLY. When you mispronounce a name, your producer will make it known (usually by either a level 2 or a level 3). To do so is sacrilege. Here are a few that have stood out to me so far over the duration of my employment. I must contest that I've had a good laugh here and there at their expense:
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Correct Pronounciation * Incorrect Pronounciation

Fishwasser ----------------- Fishmonger

Weitzenhoffer ------------ Wizenfranker

Wallmower --------------- Wallflower

Skola----------------------- Ebola

Swackhammer----------- Jackhammer

Carsey--------------------- Carseat

Reiser---------------------- Geiser

Mungioli------------------ Ravioli

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You'll get the hang of it after being criticized for your mispronunciations with every failed effort that you make to voice them correctly. This doesn't mean you can't give out a little internal giggle every time you think it. After all, this is one of the few times where you can bring some humor into the work environment and make the day go faster (kind of like that game you play in the car where you have to find the letters of the alphabet on street signs, license plates etc.)

*On a side note. The last name breakdown just sent my spell checker into an epileptic seizure.

Never Lose Sight

Here's something of importance:

No matter if you're a creative assistant, mail room clerk, administrative assistant or McDonalds cashier, never lose sight of who you are and what you would like to become.

During another day of "manning the fort" I watched a film called "Moscow on the Hudson" starring Robin Williams made sometime in the late 80's early 90's. I had never seen it before, but it turned out to be one of those movies that I wished I had sooner. In it, a man (played by Williams) "Defects" while on a trip to New York City, only to find himself penniless (but free). He works hard to gain citizenship, make a living and start a life from nothing...just for freedom. It made me realize how easy some of us have it...including myself.

We are brought into this world, if fortunate enough, with all of the tools to help us on our journey. A roof over our heads, food in our bellies and loving parents to show us the way. If we fall, they'll help to pick us up. How often to do we stop to realize what generations before us have sacrificed to make us who we are? To save us all of the struggle that they went through. Me, my great grandparents came from Italy with the only the clothes on their backs, a small amount of money and their love for one another (if they were lucky enough to have their wives or children come over with them). From nothing, they built something through hard work, dedication and sacrifice.

One thing that I refuse to do (and I would hope that you can adopt the same philosophy) is whine and complain when I don’t get what I want out of this life. You are NEVER entitled to anything in this world. There are no promises. There are no guarantees. This country. This world is only what you make of it. Yeah, I may sound all preachy and blah blah blah, but it all comes around full circle when it comes to handling life at the bottom of the workforce’s Totem pole.

Surround yourself with other things that you like to do. Whether it's music, photography, cooking, singing...anything to help further your career in the things that you REALLY want to do. For me, it is writing and directing (occasionally a side career in performing). I always keep my talents in shape. If yours aren't, I’d suggest brushing them off and giving them twenty reps of creativity. Life is too short for you to wait for others permission to do something that you love. Follow my lead and there will be no smack talking producer on this earth that will be able to snub that mysterious smile from your face caused by doing the things that you love. Ever…and honestly…we all know we can do a much better job than they can. That’ll be our little secret.

"And I'm Sending Out This Email Because...?"

Back from a spectacular Labor Day weekend. The weather remained perfect, the festivities were plentiful, and there was absolutely no mention of work or anything that may have been associated with it (so peaceful).

Today has gone by smoothly thus far, with the exception of some minor A.M. drama over the usual fare. Best news of the hour would have to be that Mr. Tibbs has granted me an early leave in the anticipation of Ms. Wilkes' absence later on this afternoon (which means I can get in a long and much needed workout before dinner). To tell you that I pigged out all weekend is a HUGE understatement. The highlight of my food binge would have to have been the chocolate fondue fountain with assorted cookies, fruits and marshmallows for dipping...do they make these for home use?

So I tend to get many requests from Ms. Wilkes for sending out emails to a variety of different individuals including (but not limited to): high powered execs, directors, producers, actors/actresses, investors, doctors, lawyers, accountants, pimps, bail bondsmen and mixologists. The ones that always get me though are those that include personal notes from Ms. Wilkes that she would like me to send VIA my own work email account. Why oh why if she has her own email address can she not simply send the email out HERSELF? Isn't it just as much work (if not more) to type up an email herself and send it to me to then send out to the person in question?

Isn't it more focused, meaningful and all together less confusing if the individual receiving the email sees that the message they received signed by her directly has NOT gone through some strange and impractical filtering process which ultimately appears to the receiving end like a bizarre power trip by simply symbolizing that she may be too all and powerful/busy to send off her own emails? Don't get me wrong, if there is any way possible that I can achieve making her look all the more insane to others then add it to the top of my list, but in this case, I’d at least like to understand her logic. Then again, understanding the logic of a producer is like trying to decipher the individual personalities of a schizophrenic minister.

I have absolutely ZERO theories as to why I'm forced to continue this type of busy work other than that it is to only one more portray her need to control anything and everything. For all the fuck I know, tomorrow she could outlaw the consumption of Hersey Kisses. It's all...one...big...abuse of power. Furthermore, I must contest that it must drive her absolutely insane to know that she has no control over when or how I chose to spend my time away from work or take a paid vacation day...and this my friends...is revenge enough.

Forced Holidays

So yesterday I was informed that I would be enjoying a four day weekend. Ms. Wilkes decided to create what she calls a "Forced Holiday". This supposedly means that it is nameless and self invented out of thin air for no particular reason at all. Guess what else it means? It is UNPAID. You got it. Because she decides to gallivant across Nantucket sipping a Perier in a cravat and a dickey, I'm forced to take an entire days pay cut. Luckily, Mr. Tibbs (who also controls payroll) is seeing to making sure there is no decrease in next week’s paycheck.

*Side note: I just calculated that if I were to work at McDonalds seven days a week, with overtime I would be making more than I do here. Food for thought (no pun intended).

On top of everything else, I’ve been recruited to help Ms. Wilkes back to her apartment after work today (remember, she just had surgery) which includes the usual flirtatious encounter with her daughter in which I have to find some sorry excuse to bail out of a twenty minute conversation (last time I used the, "My girlfriend's waiting for me at Thalia for our 6:30 reservation" excuse).

Things managed to flow smoothly today, despite her terrifying me when I walked in the door this morning by saying, "Today's gonna be a busy one." Thank God she's a compulsive liar. I even decided to go against the system and take an hour and fifteen minute lunch during of which I made a trip to John Allan's for some serious relaxation and a vodka soda. Pretty decent way to go into the long weekend if you ask me.

Now is the time where I must bid you farewell for a few days of much needed vacation. I'll be retreating up to Cape Cod for one of my best friends weddings (man does time fly). You may ask yourself how I am affording such an elaborate endeavor. I might add that the only positive that came out of waiting two years to break into the industry is that I was able to save an exorbitant amount of money, some of which I’ve made wise investments with, others I’ve chosen to watch grow in a money market with an excellent APY. If you haven't already, I highly recommend doing so yourself (unless you're perfectly content with eating Ramen and wearing that same A&E T-shirt that you got for your sixteenth birthday over and over again).

Until next time, no matter how bad things may get, always remember that there are starving children in the Sudan, you could be serving 100 years to life, you're hearts still beating and your vision is still acceptable (since you've made it through this Blog thus far). When you step out of the office, make the world your playground and be sure to savor life’s "Forced Holidays".

The Missing Employee, Mail Mysteries and Bank Blunders

...When we left off yesterday, my co-worker and Ms. Wilkes had just been in a catfight, ending in said co-worker (lets call him Mr. Tibbs) storming out of the office in a blaring hissy fit. At 5:00PM yesterday, the phone rings. I answer. It is Mr. Tibbs. In a low voice he mutters, "She must be talking quite a bit about me behind my back," at which point I returned with, "Actually she hasn't said a thing," at which point HE returned with, "It's ok, I don't want to put you in the middle of it, you don't have to tell me." In all honesty, she hadn't said a thing. As if his absence or sudden resignation were meaningless to her. Cold.

Today, when I stepped into the office, he was at his desk. Early. Working on a variety of different projects (or so it appeared). He chirped at me with a quaint little, "Good Morning", and went on about his business. What had she done before I had arrived to calm his nerves? Had they indulged in a twisted and unbearable form of makeup sex? Why the change of heart? I may never know, but one thing is for certain, they're like peas and carrots once more. Gag me.

Moving on.

There are a handful of incidents where a creative assistant may feel as if the company as a whole, no matter how big or small, is hiding something from them (almost like an "Enron" sort of vibe). For me, one of these feelings is the high profile secrecy of the daily mail delivery. It comes wrapped neatly folded and secured VIA rubber band. It looks like typical postal fair yet I am adamantly told by Mr. Tibbs that it shall be given to him directly and him only (never Ms. Wilkes). What can be so top secret that not even the Producer herself can see? Does he have a subscription to one of those kinky fetish magazines or something? The urgency around receiving the mail alone is completely and utterly SKETCH BALL. It makes me want to invest in a steamer so i can unseal and reseal each item without any sign of breakage JUST to see what's in the God damn envelopes (Below is a candid photograph of today’s mail. Note clues. SERVICE UPDATE. SECOND NOTICE.)

Along the same lines, lets talk about another strange (conspiracy theoryesque) thing that happened to me today and occurs ever so often. It starts as a routine run to make a payment at the bank around the corner. I get to the Teller (she's as perky and sweet as can be) and give her the payment slip ($250 dollars) and the company check to cover it. A minute passes. She looks up at me and says, "We apologize, but there are insufficient funds in this account to make this payment," at which point I think to myself, "That. Is. Scary." If a company doesn't have enough to cover a $250 dollars check...then...they're not only incompetent, but they're also potentially A.) Very low on money (which in this economy is frightening to me) or B.) They're once more indulging in schiesty business practices.

Since the two of them have been out all day, I've decided to do a little snooping around the office. I've found that they have over 6 different accounts set up linked with 6 different individual check books...creepy part is, all of them have different variations of the same name (plus of minus a letter, a number or a misspelling). Bizarre. There is some serious dirty going on behind the scenes here. Throw in some of the details of yesterday’s clash of the titans and I've got myself one hell of a conspiracy theory on my hands.

Stepping back now.

When faced with such incriminating evidence, I think that the best policy is to remove yourself. You're a creative assistant not Dick Tracy. Do you job, keep your mouth shut. If you see a plastic bag whose outline oddly resembles a dead body being dragged into the closet beside you, say nothing. If a week goes by and you begin to smell something emanating from underneath the doorframe that can only be that of a decaying corpse. Ask. Nothing. Pick up your can of Lysol. Spray liberally.

Salary (Or Lack Thereof)

"He that is of the opinion money will do everything may well be suspected of doing everything for money."
-Benjamin Franklin


In this business, although large sums of money may be somewhere on the horizon, as a creative executive you can expect to make next to nothing. That is why I’m telling you this one time and one time only. DO NOT get into this business if you have a grand illusion of being featured on Cribs in the near future. If you don't have a drive, a love and are inspired by movies or television programming then think about changing professions. The money will come (I’m still holding out, but HOPEFULLY down the road...it will come). If you have the misfortune of being a recent graduate with a fancy little degree in "Film" or "Media Arts" (like myself) then this may come as somewhat of a shock to you. If you are standing, sit slowly, take deep breaths, inhale...exhale...breeaaath. If you just bought that new D&G Striped Sateen Sport Shirt...now would be the time to return it.

I believe that the small, trite little paragraph above is something that they should disclose to all liberal arts students before they decide on going down the path to becoming what every college student in this field would like to become...a director. Think about it though. Give it some real hard thought. Why WOULD they tell you? They want YOUR money.

Before I get into disclosing the base salary, I’d like to give you some advice on schooling. There is NO NEED to attend: NYU, USC, SYRACUSE UNIVERSITY, UF, EMERSON or any other school offering courses in Media Studies. Any one of the above will run you over $40,000 a year to attend and in this business they are simply a NAME. In the industry what matters are not your grades or your blinged out diploma or the little student films that you made Sophomore year. What matters is REAL LIFE JOB EXPERIENCE. Go to the CHEAPEST school possible (Preferably a state school). Drink large sums of alcohol. Party. Have sex with multiple partners (safely please). Get it all out of your system. Then, your last semester of senior year, get an internship in either Los Angeles or New York. Make sure that you know which city you would like to end up in because this internship will be your one way ticket out of Palookaville. In 99.9% of cases you can only participate if getting college credit (so take advantage of it while you can) and statistically 70% of all interns move into full paid positions or are recommended to another company for employment. Do it.

So, you have your college degree (or not) and intern experience. It's now time to get a REAL job. So you put your feelers out, wait the average two years for the interview that gets you in the back door and it's now time to finalize the deal. Now comes the SALARY talk...well...it's really less conversational than you would think. You will be glowing from your recent job offer, excited that after two years you have finally done it, feel that sense of raw accomplishment. At that point what does it matter how much you make? You DID it. You're IN. So your hiring manager leans back and gives you the results. $400 a week (::insert shudder here::) no benefits. The end. You begin to panic. How do I live on $400 a week? How will I pay my rent? How will I make the commute? How will I eat (come on kid they don't call them starving artists for nothin')? Simple answer. Start begging your parents to take you back OR invest in a cardboard box and a .42 caliber.

On average I take home $625 dollars every TWO weeks. Just as a refresher, that's what $800 looks like with all the taxes melted off (think George Forman Grill, but like...in this situation leaner isn't better). That equals $1,250 dollars a month. A MONTH.

Lets do some basic mathematics:

$1,250
-$230 (Monthly train pass)
-$500 (Food)
-$100 (Car Insurance)
-$250 (Health insurance, HIGHLY RECOMMENDED)
-$100 (Gas)
__________________
=$70

What you are left with is $70 dollars a month. If you have an automotive repair to do, a doctors or hospital visit deductable or get into a pinch, you, my dear, are screwed. So in all honesty, make good with your folks, swallow your pride and move back in with them until you can get on your feet. I'm a member of the Failure to Launch club. It isn't all that bad and you really don't have much of a choice.

Yes. It's a crime that you're a smart person, have a college degree, a large knowledge of cinema (which is very rare in this business), a sparkling personality and you are making less than a full time employee at McDonalds. The important thing is, do what you love. The money will follow. If you REALLY want something, you will stop at nothing to get it. Keep telling yourself that you are cut out to become the person you wish to become and if can't do that much...at least lie.