Contact

Just got back from New York City last night. Mum and I had a great trip. The highlight, of course, was seeing my brother Mark in his first New York show, a College of New Rochelle production of "Contact," a very-deserving Tony award winner in 1999. This was Mark's meatiest role, and he just knocked the socks off of it. He danced! My little brother danced! Like, Broadway-choreographed dancing! It was awesome. And moving. And heart-wrenching, because at one point of the show my brother hangs himself.

Now, if you haven't ever seen a member of your family hanging from a noose, I do not recommend it. Mark played a character at the end of life's rope, and he gets one last chance to learn how to dance, love, and live... so this whole second act, you're rooting for him because my brother is an everyman - that will be his star quality - he's just like the rest of us. You feel like you're watching yourself up there. All these people around him are dancing with aplomb, and his character has to learn, has to find it in himself to dance. And then, he gets it, he finally gets it, and then he's back on the noose where he started. Children were crying in the theater as he hung there, lifeless. It was a horrible moment, one that haunted Mom and I for the rest of the weekend.

I was so proud of him. Because, one, I've directed him before, and I know how much he wants to reach the audience. And this was by far his best performance ever. I was in tears by the end of it. (It ends happily). And two, he did it all with such great talent and devotion. I mean, he wasn't even getting paid to be in this show, and here he was, his whole heart and soul on the floor, and it was really, truly beautiful. Bravo, broskie! You will go far.

Mark met us on Friday at Penn Station. As promised, I actually took pictures. Here's Mark and Mom on the subway:



And yours truly urban-ing it up:


Is anyone else reminded of "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" when they ride the New York subway system? These things hurtle through time and space at some strange warp velocity and all I could hear is Gene Wilder saying,

"Is it raining? Is it snowing?
Is a hurricane a-blowing?
Not a speck of light is showing,
So the danger must be growing.
Are the fires of Hell a-glowing?
Is the grisly reaper mowing?
Yes, the danger must be growing,
For the rowers keep on rowing,
And they're certainly not showing,
Any signs that they are slowing!"

Substitute some rhyming version of "wheels" in for "rowers" and subtract the beheaded chickens you have the equivalent of my NYT experience. We had to stand in the back of the E train, headed for Queens, and the door was open in the back of our car, and so each time the car would rock the door would slam open and shut like some possessed house. It felt like we were hitting things, driving over people and small mammals, hurtling through the time-space continuum with lights flashing by, and all the while there is this resigned serenity on people's faces as if this incredible cacophony of light and sound was somehow like buying white bread or picking up the paper in the morning. I was expecting people to be thrown into the windows, bags flying everywhere, the doors all sucked open in the vortex of these black labyrinths through which this death machine hurled itself.

Alas, no. But that was how it felt.

We arrived at Mark's apartment, which is in lower Queens. Here are some pictures of it. He lives with three other people and pays $2000+/mo. for it, and for NY, it is stunning:



His roommates are all great. Mat wasn't kidding when he said Mark's apt. was nicer than mine. The toughest part, I think, was that actually being there made me realize Mark was truly not around anymore. I have a capacity for ignorance, and I think I was avoiding the fact that Mark was gone. Join that with a tinge of jealousy over his artistic success, and it was an emotional weekend. It was great to see him, though. I'm glad he's coming home for Thanksgiving.

always,
m

Running Bohemian Intellectuals

No, this is not part 2.

I'm writing to you from Mom's house, typing on her shiny new Blackbook. My passion for Apple is slowly seeping into the lives of those around me. Jessie was the first. Now Mom. I'm going Monday with Anna to the Apple Store to find a laptop for Derrick for Christmas, and Dad has been talking about switching sometime soon. Dave is getting a Mac Pro for Christmas.

As Mat would say, "Mwahahahaha."

It is to Mat, actually, that this post owes its title. We were at Friday's Wednesday night, feeding the muse so to speak, and Mat commented that I looked, in my pseudo-red-track-jacket-thing, my Gap multicolored hat, and my new emo glasses, like a Running Bohemian Intellectual. Which I guess I then proved by inventing an "awkward silence" machine, with which I would delight myself at random moments - can you imagine if one of your roomates was having sex and you turned on your ASM?

"What's wrong, honey?" the girl asks.
"I don't know. I think we should stop."
"Why?"
"Can't you hear that?"
"Hear what? I don't hear anything."
"Exactly. This...silence. If only it wasn't so awkward I could finish."
"So is now a bad time to tell you I'm actually a man?"

Awkward!

The fact that Mat and I discussed, for more than 20 seconds, just exactly how that device would work attests to the grand creative spirit which makes the writer's meetings fun. I feel privileged to be one of the few, if not only, people who gets to be a part of his writing process for The Flames of Resistance. It's inspring. This is going to be a good year.

Mum and I are heading up to NY tomorrow to see Mark for the first time in months and also to see him in his show, "Contact." I'm looking forward to the trip. We're driving to Harrisburg and then taking the train to New York City. I haven't been on a train since I was eight years old. I got a trip to Altoona as a birthday present and it was *awesome*. Basically every nerdy thing you could be into I was into as a child. Thank God so much has changed and I killed every part of myself that wasn't normal!

So, I'll return with pictures, which I know I always say and rarely do. I promise to actually deliver part 2 of my trailer adventure, maybe even post a little clip of what I eventually worked on. I have some ridiculous pictures that Dad and I posed for once we realized that it was just not going to work. I see humor is genetic...

Travel safe, if your weekend takes you elsewhere. If you go to Vegas, look out for the four sexy Rutter women! Jess will be there hooching it up with Gran. Now THERE are some pictures I think the world needs to see!

always,
m

Things Fall Apart (Part I)

I should preface this by saying that whenever my father and I do anything together, it always ends up an adventure.

So, accordingly, my weekend in exile was a hilarious flop.

I packed up my car on Friday afternoon, no small task considering I had my computer, monitor, camera, tripod, microphone stand, backpack and suitcase. All told the stuff inside the car was worth more than the car itself, which I think is key in not getting anything stolen. First rule of being a filmmaker: apparent poverty can be your friend.

The adventure began when I headed over to Dad's only to learn that we couldn't get the key to the trailer until Saturday. No biggie - Dad has a posh pad south of Pittsburgh, and he put me up for the night in his basement. To celebrate, we had a great dinner at Bravo - Dad and Sue seemed highly entertained by me, and I was equally delighted by their stories from their recent trip to Ireland. You have to understand, my father is like Mr. Genius Scientist - I found out recently that he had a hand in inventing both solar panels and the rail guns used to launch satellites - and he has a PhD from Carnegie Mellon University, the thesis from which I tried to read and my eyes fell out of my head. CUT TO: Unemployed writer/filmmaker/musician son who can barely do his own laundry let alone invent the next rail gun, and you get the kind of dynamic that is my father and I. I'm glad he finds me funny. I take an inordinate amount of comfort in his confidence that eventually I'll find my way.

After dinner I headed over to Lebo. Tooch called and invited me to go to Logan's Pub in North Oakland to hear the illustrious Double Shot acappella group perform, so I swung by, ate some of her Halloween candy, and we headed out. As soon as Double Shot gets a website I'll post a link because these guys are good. [I've been thinking of even offering to make it for them, but I'm pretty sure Luke has dibs.] I'm good friends with three of its main members, as is Tooch, so we had a great time listening to the guys perform, all the while pretending to be sucking each other's faces and sending dirty PIX messages to Jessie with Tooch's phone. Tooch is a hilarious lightweight and was toasted after two beers. We had balls-to-the-wall intellectual sex on the way home, and I headed back to Dad's basement for the night.

The next morning started early. I had unloaded all of the computer stuff seeing as how it was going below freezing overnight, so we had to repack everything before heading to breakfast at Drew's.

If my family ever had a "haunt," it would be Drew's. Almost half of my Sunday mornings for 10 years were spent chowing down on milkshakes and italian fritattas with my brother and Dad after church. All the waitresses knew him (and us) by name. I have great memories of this restaurant, a little mom and pop off of Ardmore Blvd, and whenever I go there I feel like I'm 16 and can order a vanilla milkshake for breakfast. Definitely a good start to the day.

After an hour-long car ride out east, Dad and I arrived at the trailer. We had to put it in four-wheel-drive to get up there - the gravel road that led up to it was impressively dimpled and grooved, so much so that I was glad I was wearing a seatbelt at 5 mph. Not really knowing what to expect, I pulled the truck into a leaf-covered clearing and see this:



Wow. Just... wow. I am simultaneously thrilled and terrified by this picture, as I was when I first saw the real thing. I didn't know what to expect inside, anything. Turns out it was very nice, furnished - the whole nine yards. It even had a fridge and central heating.

The only thing it didn't have was electricity.

None.

At all...

SFX - DRAMATIC MUSIC

(end part I)

Exile

So is it possible that John Kerry's comments were offensive because there is truth in them? I think what he said is stupid, and he's stupid for saying it regardless of the original intent, but the Army HAS lowered its standards, and is meeting goals with increasingly predatory behavior aimed at low-income groups. Anyone serving our country is a hero, bar none, but the issue of who is joining and why is important. I don't want it to be "I can't afford college so I guess I'll join the military." Ideally it'd be a choice on the part of patriotic young people made with other options available. Maybe it's naive to think that way, but people are pissed at John Kerry and there is an element of sad truth in what he said. Just what lengths is the military going to to meet their quotas?

Anyways. The title of this post refers to my trip this weekend into the Netherworld, aka the Laurel Mountains. I decided that I need an exodus, a trip into the wilderness, in order to really make progress on HFTH. I had a great time in Philadelphia the weekend before last - highlights included Whole Foods vegan cookie, watching Dave escape from a locked bag while handcuffed and feet-cuffed, sleeping next to Steph and calling each other hilariously awful things. But I also, with help, got an entire (and complicated) scene roughly cut together. With the exception of Dregr's scenes, the only thing that remains to be digitized and edited is the other major fight scene. Maybe I'll be able to find some vistas in the Laurel Mountains that can substitute for shots that will eventually be in the film...

The whole thought is terribly exciting, because here's where I'll be staying. This description was written by my, um, step-sister I guess, of the trailer where I'll be staying the weekend:

"The Trailer"

First let me apologize in advance if the trailer is lacking in anything. I haven't been up since Labor Day so don't know what condition you'll find it in. Hope this info helps.

The key is for the front door of the trailer. The door is hard to shut sometimes so you may have to slam it. You don't need the key to relock it, just turn the dial on the knob inside.

When you walk into the trailer you will be facing a small (very small) "island" between the living room and kitchen. Along the upper left side (by the table) there are a number of keys hanging. There should be a key ring marked "outhouse and shed" or "outhouse and grill". This key will open the outhouse and the shed which is in the same out building. The door for the shed was broke so it may not even be locked. The shed contains chairs, hotdog forks, propane lanterns, etc. (At least it should but since the door is broke who knows what may be gone by now!)

There is a television in the living room that gets one station. There is also a VCR that works and a bag of tapes somewhere in the trailer.

There are bedrooms to the left and right. There should be electric space heaters in each one. You can move them around as needed. There is also a furnace for the whole trailer if you need it. What you have to do is open the door to the closet in the hallway. The heater is inside. Leave the door open the whole time the heater is on to avoid fire. Then continue down the hallway to the bedroom that is near the road. The breaker box is on the wall on the left. You have to flip one of the switches to turn on the furnace. I believe it is the one marker "dryer" but usually I just start flipping switches until it comes on!! To turn off the heater just flip the switch back.

Occasionally a fuse may blow so you might need the breaker box for this too. Just flip the switches. It happens sometimes if there's a lot of stuff plugged in along the one wall.

Be sure to bring a flashlight because I don't know if there are any working ones up there. There is a strand of light bulbs across the driveway that can be plugged in on the outside of the trailer. There should be an extension cord already out there. There is also a light in the outhouse. If any of these don't work, start flipping switches in the breaker box!!

There are totes full of sheets, pillows, and blankets in the bedroom with the breaker box. There are towels on top of the fridge in the bathroom. There are paper products in the totes in the bathroom.

The fridge in the kitchen should be empty. We had a power outage and had to throw away all the food inside it. There is a tote with snacks in the kitchen. The fridge in the back should have pop and water bottles. Help yourself to whatever you can find. The water in the jugs in the bathroom can be used for clean-up etc. but it is not drinking water!! You should probably pack whatever food and drinks you think you might need because I really don't think there's much of anything there. But like I said, help yourself to anything you can find. There is no running water at all, sorry! The toiler in the bathroom does not work, that's what the outhouse is for! You can dump water down the drain in the bathroom but I can't remember if we fixed the sink in the kitchen or not so that drain may be broke.

The restaurant at the bottom of the hill, the "Laurel Mountain Inn" has good, cheap food and drinks. Also, if you go down to the bottom of the hill and make a left you should eventually come to a little gas station/convenience store on your left. They have good coffee and some supplies if you need anything. If you continue down that road you'll eventually come to a Giant Eagle on your left if you need major supplies. There's also a Burger King, Italian Oven, Dollar General, and a beer distributor around Giant Eagle. If you happen to get lost trying to get back just ask anyone where the Laurel Mountain Inn or Kooser State Park is.

If you want to start a fire in the fire pit there may still be wood stacked under a tarp up there. If not, you'll have to search around for some. There's plenty of wood all around!! There should be newspaper in the closet behind the front door to help start the fire. Bring your own lighter or matches because I can't say if there's anything up there or not.

When you leave, just make sure the front door and the outhouse are locked (and the shed too if there's even a door!). Make sure all lights are off. Also make sure the furnace and all space heaters are turned off. If you have any garbage you'll have to take it with you. There is no pick-up for the trailer and we can't leave it up there.

I hope you enjoy your stay!!

p.s. Some of the neighbors are crazy but harmless. The ones that live up there year round keep an eye on the place for us. So, if someone comes by and asks who you are just tell them that Joe Butler is your uncle. They all know his name up there and then they'll know you're ok to be there. Oh yeah, and if Charlie offers you some homemade moonshine just say no!!! Trust me on that one!!

-=-=--=-=-=-

Isn't that awesome?!?! I'll be Michael Douglas from "Romancing the Stone," drinking out of found bottles of rum and running from Danny DeVito. I can't wait. What will I do without the internet? This will be the first time I really just head out... I've been fantasizing about picking up and "leaving" for a year now, just heading off somewhere, away, far away, and this is close to what I was looking for. Part of me wishes I had a gun just in case. I'll take my sword and sleep next to it in case any bears want to go medieval on me. My favorite part is the crazy neighbors who make moonshine.

Wish me luck. I'm taking a camera to document the experience, so hopefully I'll have something to report back. At the very least, I'll come back with a movie that is much closer to being done :)

martin