Car Spots
Ah, tis Summer,
Season of the car.
Find the open road along the dotted line...
Then smoothly raise the camera arm
Precision drivers dive beneath.
The sun beats down like a drum.
A dance of car to car begins
With grips, short teathers tied to hips,
Grasp bucket as the turret spins;
One mind to execute the move.
Now down to ground for drive-bys and pop-ups;
On folded furni-pad,
Kneeling behind a wedged hi-hat,
With road signs removed,
Wet asphalt curves into view...
But here it comes!
Focus guessed, eye pressed through
the quick pan of a passing streak in dappled light.
Time for one more scene.
A static parade of this year's models,
Made to move while standing still,
Left to right,
then backwards back,
Dolly slips slowly over forty feet
of track,
and back;
a typewriter watching the sun slide behind
a hill until
beauty
is merely flat sky
reflected in curved colored steel.
LS
Knowledge is Power
Knowledge is Power.
My power is nil...
when I get to location
with questions to fill.
Who made the directions?
Nothing was clear!
Where do I park?
Is craft-service here?
What are we selling?
Where's the first shot?
The camera goes there?
How much time have you got?
I asked for a grip,
Not a PA!
Too helpful one minute,
The next
Far away!
If I had known,
I could have brought it from home.
Shared knowledge is good;
That's the point of this poem.
Why does the crew seem so alone in the dark?
Or is Production in search of the self-same spark?
Fires flare up when communication breaks down...
Less sets would burn with knowledge spread around.
LS
Sleep Thinking
When you're working 'round the clock
For six or seven days;
The time off after that
Is when the body pays.
A test was done that proved
"Sleep deficits" can be paid;
But as a rest day melts away...
Other deadlines aren't made.
I find the grind soon takes its toll;
Real rest is seldom felt.
Sleep ain't cheap, if truly deep;
Then it's back to the tight tool belt.
Work for the future?
Sleep when you're dead?
Convince your wife you share a life...
You'll see her later in bed.
LS
Best Boy
"Men and equipment," he said to me,
"It's your lot in life.
Anticipate the gaffer's needs
And you'll escape the knife.
Organize the wandering herd,
The lost, electric sheep;
Guide them to the promised land
Through 4 ott ankle deep."
"Talk to transpo...
Call the Hall...
We just lost power
Along that wall!
Sound wants the genee
Around the block...
When did we break?
Are we on the clock?
What's the job number?
Can I still get to my stuff?
Dolly wants a stinger...
Is this tied off enough?
Parent, coach, psychiatrist,
Sargeant, friend, and diplomat;
Manage crisis as it comes,
"I thought I asked for that?"
And when it stops...
You ask yourself,
Is this where I want to be?
Is the pay worth getting so stressed?
But after six hours of rest,
Once you have showered and dressed,
You think,
What could be better than 'Best'?
LS
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What's in a Rate?
What's in a rate, as in a name,
Once it's set, who gets the blame?
Is it the client's bottom line,
Or the producer's budget whine,
Or perhaps the department head
Who should have pushed for more instead,
Or the person answering the call?
Who could just say, "No!", after all.
Is it that easy, or do we feel queazy?
Turning any work down;
The rate doesn't please me, the job sounds sleazy,
Yet we still entertain playing the clown.
So here's to just a bit more clarity,
On what it means to have solidarity;
Do what's right for each of us and together,
So when the storm comes to town...
We're ready to weather.
LS
Worthwhile Work?
Wondered where I stood in the worldly neighborhood;
Was there any good in what I did?
Today I lit a car,
a refrigerator,
a glass of coke,
a funny man,
a salad,
a band,
a computer,
a meeting,
a star,
a dog,
a piano filled with water,
puppets,
sugar cubes,
silicon wafers,
a cowboy,
cookies,
a beautiful woman,
surgical tools,
a group of actors pretending to be mad at each other,
a psychopath,
a banker,
monitors,
potatoe chips,
satellites,
models in Levi's
a car crash,
a ceo,
sex toys,
shoes,
politicians,
aerobic instructors,
thawed out butterflies,
follicles,
slices of pizza,
babies,
snakes,
colored cardboard boxes.
It wasn't always fun
getting each job done.
Sometimes, to light
a scene or thing just right
could take all night.
Sure you might feel,
what's the big deal?
And yet, the sweat
from a challenge met,
is sweet on any set.
LS
Pick and Stick
The downside of Busy
Is you need to decide...
Which horse to pick
And which wave to ride.
A two-day and three day,
By chance, overlap.
Which one will stick?
Which one is a trap?
Can you gauge by the client?
The producer? The sky?
Tea leaves or palm lines?
Why are answers so shy?
Some say "yes!" to all;
Then hope for the best...
If caught, they'll choose one
And sub-out the rest.
Some preach loyalty
To them (not they to you);
While others don't care...
If your replacement comes through.
It will always be tough
Without a "sure thing;"
Freelancers depend
On the fate of that ring...
The phone is our link
To another day's work,
But one ring too many
May drive you berserk.
I'm not into Zen,
Though I know what it means
To make my peace
With inbetweens;
You choose with no choice...
You scream with no voice...
You leap, but don't land...
You're down, but still stand.
So take that job,
And hope it stays;
No job's for sure
Until it pays.
LS |
