Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Film

Some of you know that at the end of high school, when most of my friends were waiting on their acceptance letters from Universities, I was waiting to hear from a film program at Humber College.

University, I thought, was just more busy-work, which I was barely standing in grade 2, much less grade 13. I had stayed in University residences with older siblings of friends, and to me it looked pretty damned close to a den of inequities (I don't know what that means).

College, I had been told, was much more practical -- skill oriented. For level headed people looking for careers. I guess I should've noticed that I was in no way looking for a career, much less one in film and tv. . . The program had 68 slots for 3000 applicants, so I liked my odds -- I didn't want to go to school at all.

Somewhere during the application process, the odds against me got my competitive juices flowing (uh, that sounds gross. . .). I wrote a pretty decent application essay, and my grades (despite my better efforts) were quite solid (something about taking mostly English courses), and since most honor-roll kids go to University, I think my marks probably did the most to get me a spot. When my acceptance letter arrived, I was quite proud, and it didn't seem like there was a decision to be made -- the odds had made it for me.

So, at 18, and about 135 pounds, I headed off to film school. Shunning residence, I rented a third floor bedroom and bathroom from a crazy black family in a terrible neighborhood, and started my education.

Much like my time at the University of Guelph, I spent most of my hours alone (though, at film school, I managed to watch about 16 hours of tv a day), and when I had class, I was generally disappointed at the pace and depth. But I learned a lot (probably more from my neighborhood then from school), and I picked up some basic film-making skills.

Again, like my time at Guelph, after about 2 years, it seemed like about enough. The third year of the course was built largely around a big scale drama film shoot, and what amounted to an internship (something like 300 industry hours). The big scale film shoot was basically a huge popularity contest -- scripts would be voted on, the script writers would choose the producers, who would chose the directors, who would chose the camera crew, and so on. Basically, everyone was acting like 5 year olds trying to be the cute girl's "Best-best-best friend". Which is fine, really, 'cause it was just an exercise. We were right on the edge of the industry (such as it is), slowing being pushed out of the nest. The moment, the epiphony, came from a hard working grip/gaffer/d.o.p. type guy named Matt -- we were walking through the school, talking about the city, and I mentioned that I didn't think I wanted to live in Toronto forever. He said, "uh, you're picking the wrong industry".

Damn.

Somewhere in there, I drove out west with my friend Kevin -- and I'll save that story for another time, except to say that, as is the theme of my early years, I was granted many hours alone for reflection and came to the conclusion that something was amiss in my life. Ha!

Like any good 20 year old, I revolted against the whole thing. I stopped watching TV and shunned it as if it were poison. I started seeing movies as manipulative forces for evil. Basically, a 1/5th life crisis where everything around me was too blame.

I stopped having anything to do with film-making -- aside from ending up back at my old job at Muskoka Movies. . . (customer -- "is this movie any good?" me -- "I don't watch movies, they're a waste of time"). . . and eventually (with some help from friends who loaned me good books), ended up going to University, for English.

Skip ahead, skip ahead.

The bass player from my old friends the Radical Dudez, Andy Landen (you-tube search his name for some great stuff) was a film student at Queens (and now at USC, I think), and his films are fantastic. They aren't presumptuous, pompous, or preened (uh, that alliteration kind of got away from me, because they are nicely polished. . .). . . And I credit him with winning me back to the film world. He just wanted to make stuff that was cool and interesting and funny.

We had some talks about him directing a music video for the Barn Flyz -- and his one stipulation was that Peja would be involved. We never got around to making anything, but I liked the idea of having the kid involved.

Skip ahead, skip ahead.

And now I'm trying again.

Take care.

Friday, March 14, 2008

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Chatting with Peja - Episode 1



Peja and I put together a little talk show this morning. The music is all Barn Flyz stuff from Peja or Paul, the album I wrote while Sienna was preggers with Peja (who, for all I knew, might have been Paul).

Transcript, for Adam -- "Welcome to Chatting with Peja. My guest today is Leo the Lion. Hello Leo welcome to the show. We'll be right back. Chalk looks good. No, you never eat it. Don't eat Chalk. We're all out of time. See you next week on Chatting with Peja. Bye!"

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Cabin Fever. . .

I guess updating my face-book status doesn't really count as keeping the blog going. . . But it should, really.

Basketball is on hold for March Break (and for the ice storm last week). I went and shot last Thursday, and I'll probably get out at some point this week (maybe tomorrow morning? I'll check if Sienna's working. . .). I'm really glad I got a gym pass for Queens -- I've had so many great shooting sessions in completely empty gyms; just me and 6 perfect nets. My left hand can almost dribble, and for the first time in my life I made a few lefty-reverse lay-ups. I've been reading some basketball skills books, and I'm slowly converting my home-grown ways to the proper fundamentals.

I've been jamming with one of my students at work -- he's a good drummer, but super-lazy about practicing whatever I give him to work on, so we mostly just pick a drum beat, and try and write a song. It's almost like having a band, except that I'm getting paid. . . We've been laying down some tracks with Tim, which is a nice low-pressure way to record new stuff.

Downtown living (or near downtown) has been pretty crappy this winter. Peja is almost big enough to walk all the way, but not quite. And the snow has made it tough to push her tricycle or a stroller.

I can't wait until spring -- I know in shoes and without snow-pants the kid could walk 100 miles. Peja is in-between play group and kindergarten age -- she's older than almost all the kids at play group, so I don't take her as much; she likes the paintings and crafts, but we can do that stuff here, and she's not really getting socialized if it's all 1 and 2 year olds. The Library programs are awesome, and are the main reason we haven't murdered each other.

If you haven't been there, I keep another blog for Peja's drawings over at www.pejahanako.blogspot.com. I know this is total proud-papa syndrome, but she is much better at the whole drawing thing that I was at thrice her age.

Kudos to my awesome cousin Tom for getting into College. And kudos to his twin Kevin for buying a 1986 Trans-Am. Uh. . . It's okay folks, he's in mechanic school. It's the knight-rider car! You really can't beat that.

The Ebike is also suffering long-winter-itus, I think I've got some moisture issues in the control cable system (the motor controller keeps track of how fast the wheel is spinning -- I don't know why, but apparently, it's important), so the hub is taking a break over a heat register, which should purge the water and get everything running again. In good news, the battery I set fire to may have only blown it's heat-fuse. . . Cross your fingers!

The city took down the snowbanks last night -- I had heard the operation done a few times, but saw it for the first time this winter. They plow all the snow into the middle of the road and then a huge snow-blower type machine picks it all up and blows it into a series of dump trucks -- when one is full, it pulls ahead and the next in a long train of them gets filled. It's an insane production that must cost a fortune -- but it also means I have a side-walk and Peja and I will probably get out of the house!

Hope you are all surviving winter with good health and spirits.

More news from the country music sessions next time.

Jay.