Pilot Reading Tonight
My sitcom pilot, The Fabulous Life of Arthur Watkins, is tonight.
Second City Hollywood at 6:30pm
Here’s all the media for it:
Reclusive author ML Reeves can’t keep it together. After her book series, The Fabulous Life of Arthur Watkins, hit the New York Times Bestseller list and stayed there, she’s been crushed by fame, movie contracts, and a rabid fan base. When a long stint of writer’s block has book five behind deadline, Arthur Watkins, the 15-year-old main character, appears to ML. But is he there to help or will he only make things worse?
Starring
Catherine Alter
Nina Berenfeld
A.S. Freeman
Mackenzie Horras
Patti Moore
Shawn Ryan
Melanie Specht
Travis Van Rijn
The Non-Adopters
I have a problem.
I’m not sure if it’s a generational thing. I mean, I’m friends with people from many generations, and it doesn’t strike me as a generational thing. Here it is:
Why doesn’t everyone use Google (or, God forbid, “The Google”)?
There seems to be a subset of humanity that actively refuses to embrace technology. And the thing that really gets me is that technology is supposed to make our lives easier. If it isn’t helping you, don’t use it.
Perhaps this has something to do with our gadget-obsessed society. It’s enough to own the bright, shiny toy. You don’t need to know how to use it. As long as you have it, your position in society is assured. We’ve replaced technological knowledge for the appearance of technological knowledge. “I have a smartphone, but I don’t know how to use it.”
I was so excited when Apple announced the iPad, because it was like someone announcing a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Here was a handheld device (okay, maybe not palm size, but still reasonable) that had an almost guaranteed connection to the Internet. The Internet. The most complete compiling of human information so far. You want it? You can find it. Science fiction became science fact. Grab your towels.
Another thing about the iPad is that it has nearly limitless potential. Want to use it as a gaming device? Go for it. How about a medical aid for nurses and doctors? It can do that, too. I’ve been asked what an iPad does, which baffles me. You can use it as a musical instrument. You can use it to send text messages or talk on Skype. You can use it to create graphs and set up visual aids for meetings. You can use it to scan credit cards for your business. It can’t make you a cup of coffee, but it can tell you where to find some, and it get you one at Starbucks if you add money to the app.
The iPad, while a technological advancement, is also hailing back to the cave man. Here’s a stick. What does it do? It does whatever you can make it do.
Now, not everyone is ready for an iPad. I understand that. If it doesn’t somehow make life easier (again), you don’t need it.
I believe technology is the one of the foundations of human evolution. Before “I have a smartphone, and I don’t know how to use it” was “I have a rock, and I know how to use it.” Those must have been exciting times, when Caveman Jobs held an event with his turtleneck (made out of actual turtle?), and announced the rock. Maybe he was even responsible for the slingshot. Ridiculous scenario or not, human innovation cannot be denied as a major component of our development.
There’s this aspect of my personality that makes me undauntingly curious. If I want to know something, nothing will keep me from it. I will read the books, I will take the classes. If I had more time, I would study everything from Accounting to Yiddish Studies (yeah, it’s a thing) and everything in between. I understand on an intellectual level that not everyone shares this insatiable thirst for knowledge. Fortunately, I’m not related to any of those people. My parents, my siblings, my aunts, uncles, and more, all share my desire to learn.
The Internet is a portal into the garnering of information. (I don’t believe everything I read on the Internet; I’m just saying you can find factual pieces if you know where/how to look).
If I don’t know how to do something, my first instinct is to turn to Google.
Why doesn’t everyone do this?
You know another thing that’s great about Google? You can just type in your question, right into the box, and it gleans your meaning. How? They employ linguists who seem to have the ability to read minds. Their algorithms incorporate data from your history of searches. They look at the way other people have reacted who have performed similar searches. Google is trying to make your life easier. Embrace it.
I think these non-adopters are going to have a problem very shortly. Human technology is evolving alarmingly fast (not that you need to read any books on it). If you can’t keep up now, what happens when everyone is wearing Google Glass? What happens when we develop a way to store our thoughts instantaneously to the cloud?
Human evolution is so closely linked with our development of better tools, it’s possible the swift development of technology could lead to species directed evolution. Yes, our tools now could determine the future of the human race.
So, get on board. The spaceship is leaving without you.
P.S. I’m ready for my nanite injection, Mr. DeMille.
I’m Judging You (Or The Other Side of the Rejection Letter)
We held auditions for the stage read of my pilot this weekend (it’s at 6:30 on April 17th at Second City Hollywood and you’ll see two shows for the low, low price of FREE!) and these auditions put me on the other side of throwing yourself at the mercy of someone else’s judgement.
It’s not easy being an actor. We had 39 people show up.
There are 8 people in my pilot.
One of them only exists off-stage. That’s right. I’ve cut the story down to the essentials (how many people are in an episode of The Big Bang Theory? You’ve gotta keep it tight). Now, there are a few non-speaking roles in there. The first scene takes place at the Hugo Awards, so you would presumably have a whole audience in there somewhere.
But, they don’t talk.
On top of that, I already had two of my characters cast from people I know from the show I write for at Second City.
It was a little ridiculous. Even I was getting nervous about auditions and all I had to do was sit at a table and watch. It’s hard to imagine how they feel. Worse, you’re throwing yourself at the mercy of someone’s highly subjective opinion, someone who has a look, a style, a character, in mind and you need to rock it. I only write down you’re name if you’re interesting. I only remember you if you impressed me. The first thing that goes out the window is “Nice.” I can’t waste too much time saying how wonderful everyone is. I have to get down to it.
I’m a little sorry.
There were a few people I saw that I thought, “It’s too bad that I don’t have a part for you.” Literally. Out of eight characters, three of them are male, and one of them can’t be half-assed or borderline. You have to rock it.
You have to either read my mind or change it.
Here’s what I learn from having to drop the gavel:
1.) Sometimes, it’s how you look.
I need a 15 year old boy. But, the character is so important, I didn’t want to cast a 15 year old (everyone on Glee is in their 20′s, so you can get away with it). If you look like you’ve walked a hard road to 30, it’s a hard sell, even when it’s just a read.
2.) Sometimes, it doesn’t matter how you look.
One guy, clearly older than 25, read for the 15 year old character and nailed it. So, he didn’t perfectly fit the role as far as looks were concerned. He hit the important part, which was in the attitude and the speech pattern. He brought something to it. What I’m saying is you can change someone’s mind.
3.) Go all out.
I can’t imagine how nervous you are. Whenever I submit my stories to agents, it’s always from behind a computer screen where I can listen to Take A Chance On Me or Maybe This Time and dance around in my pajamas, because I’m a writer and that’s pretty much what we do. I’ve had pitches with agents in the past, but even those were one on one. It’s not as terrible as standing in a line with 7 other people. The person who ended up as my lead took the direction I gave her and made something out of it, even in a three page scene. I was able to look at her reading the role and think, “I never saw the character this way, but, damn, it works.”
4.) Don’t be cocky.
Sometimes, you have to psych yourself up. I get that. I’ve performed live before and ten minutes before every show, I had to sequester myself and talk myself into it. I had to amp up. I had to get ready. I’m an introvert, so I could keep that amping up in my head.
Don’t do it out loud.
Please.
If saying you’re going to fucking rock these auditions is what gets you into the room and gets you psyched, great. Don’t do it in front of the people in charge of the auditions. They don’t all think you’re psyching yourself up. Some of them think you’re just being a jerk.
If you are just being a jerk, stop. STAHP.
5.) Bring a headshot.
It’s LA. You should have one.
Even if they don’t ask you to bring one, you should bring one. A little professional can go a long way. If you single yourself out, maybe you don’t need one. But, you should have one. It’s like bringing a resume to a job interview. Yeah, you already sent one, but maybe they didn’t feel like printing it out. And, it’s easy to say, “Would you like a copy of my resume?” They can say no if they’ve got one. If they don’t, you’ve already set yourself apart from everyone who forgot theirs.
I know rejection sucks. I’ve been there about 120 times in the last 2 years, and those are the ones that bothered to answer.
You can do one of two things:
Keep going
or
Quit.
So, it’s up to you.
What’s the next step?
Everything Wrong with The Walking Dead (And What You Can Learn From It)
The Walking Dead is a good show. It’s gritty, dark, often times raw, and has that gore factor that you just can’t find on broadcast television. It gets people talking.
But, as all stories, there are imperfections. I’m not here to ask why they have a 2013 Hyundai when the apocalypse happened in 2010 (something has to pay for all that gore and apparently it’s the South Korean car makers).
I also don’t care about certain characters unlocking infinite ammo mode. Let’s just assume they reloaded off camera.
“But, there was no time…”
LET’S JUST ASSUME!
Here, I want to talk about some weird storytelling flaws that you should avoid. (Probably spoilers, but, dude. Netflix.)
1. Almost every episode’s plot is launched by someone doing something stupid.
You didn’t have to be a super genius to survive the apocalypse. The law of averages says that isn’t the case. When The Walking Dead starts, Rick comes out of a coma and is thrust into a world he doesn’t recognize. It’s okay if he makes some mistakes, especially if he’s just going through routine.
“Hark, a monster! I shall shoot it!”
Gunshot brings hordes of zombies. Okay. He didn’t know any better. He learns that shooting them is maybe not the best course of action (if he survives).
In the second season, Sofia, a little girl, goes missing. She was supposed to stay somewhere and wait for Rick. He went back and she was gone. The rest of the season is spent with them living on a farm, sending out search parties. Now, when I was a kid and Mom told me to stay somewhere and wait for her, you better believe I did. When I was separated from her in the grocery store, I knew to not wander around because she would retrace her steps.
Realize I was not surrounded by zombies at the time.
Again, I can forgive an 8 year old for getting scared and running like Hell, but she didn’t even go back to the car. And she wasn’t attacked by a zombie at that point, either. See, when they do find her, she’s a zombie. And, she still looks pretty normal. Which means she was bitten and got away or she died of natural causes and the infection took her. Rick wasn’t gone for very long, so she wasn’t attacked where he left her. He would have heard a scream and the zombies would have lingered.
The real stupid thing that got me, though, was after the massacre of the zombie pets in Herschel’s barn (that’s right, I’m not addressing the stupidity of the zombie pets).
Herschel is in town, drinking away his feelings. Glen and Rick go to find him. They tell everyone before they leave:
“We think Herschel went into town. We’re going to go get him. We’ll be back later.”
Ten minutes later, Lori, Rick’s wife, is running around going “they’ve been gone too long.” Jesus, lady, it hasn’t even been an hour. So, she decides to go into town and find them. She doesn’t tell anyone she’s leaving. On the way into town, she’s looking at a map and crashes into a zombie (flipping the car because…physics?), and she’s lying unconscious as zombies start to close in around her.
Meanwhile, no one at camp has even realized she’s missing. They don’t realize it until nightfall. While I’m sure some people think, “High Drama!” I say, “No. Let the bitch die. If she’s dumb enough to A) go looking for someone before they said they’d be back B) not tell anyone where she’s going in a world populated by zombies and C) not watch the goddamn road, let the zombies eat her.”
When anyone says they like The Walking Dead because of “the characters” I’m forced to ask why. They are TDTL, too dumb to live. You like the show because people are running from zombies and there’s high tension with climatic payoff. Call a spade a spade.
It’s not drama. It’s stupidity. People don’t like dumb characters. If you’re going to get your characters in stupid predicaments, try to give them a smart/unavoidable reason to be there, otherwise, it’s dumb. (more…)
Notes on Television: Part 1 of 3 – The Case Studies
It’s an exciting time for storytelling. As the publishing industry scrambles to figure out what to do with itself, television seems to be embracing change as fast as it can. If you look at recent developments, you’ll agree.
Case study 1: Veronica Mars or How You Can Buy Your Own Happy Ending
Veronica Mars never experienced the ratings that it needed to be considered a hit, but it had then what every TV show wants now: a cult following. In today’s terms, look at Community. Community doesn’t get the ratings. What it does get is trends on Twitter. Community fans are rabidly supportive. They not only watch, but they talk about the show. The watercooler has gone to the Internet and you can see exactly the impact your stories are having.
Veronica Mars shows you what happens when a rabid fan base is monetized. If you haven’t heard about the Veronica Mars Kickstarter project, check it out here. The show raised $2 million for a Veronica Mars movie in 24 hours. Their campaign is still going as of this posting at $4,332,000. The fans will get their movie.
The Veronica Mars project is still an ongoing experiment. Will the movie be successful? A Kickstarter campaign is just the beginning. The project still requires studio backing and production costs outside the purview of crowdfunding. We’ll see how it goes.
The downside of the Veronica Mars project is the possibility that everyone and their brother will call for the return of the television they think was unjustly ended.
Where’s my Pushing Daisies movie? Why can’t we have one more season of Chuck?
Some things are meant to die. Veronica Mars may be a fluke. Or it may launch us dwelling in the stagnant waters of a culture that refuses to move on. Or it could be the best thing that ever happened.
Case study 2: Breaking Bad/Walking Dead/Mad Men/cable shows
There’s an old trope about British television and how short their series are. This isn’t wrong. If a Brit show runs 13 episodes, it’s consider an overwhelming success. Fawlty Towers, considered one of the best sitcoms ever made (by the people who decide those things) only had 12 episodes from 2 seasons made over the course of 4 years.
That’s right. If you crunch the numbers, they made 3 episodes a year.
Why are British TV series so short? Because they aren’t full of crap. British television is liked distilled TV syrup. There’s no fizz added.
Breaking Bad‘s first season ran 7 episodes. The subsequent seasons ran 13 episodes.
Mad Men‘s seasons are 13 episodes each.
The Walking Dead‘s first season: 6 episodes. After, 13.
Why is this a good thing? Like British television, the writers/producers/creators of these shows are trimming the fat and giving us delicious, meaty chunks of storytelling. The miniseries isn’t dead, it just bred with series television and created a new species.
Why is American television full of 22-24 episode series? Because it’s a race to 100. I’ll talk about that in a later post.
Case Study 3: Netflix/Amazon Prime/Hulu
Arrested Development is getting it’s happy ending and it isn’t crowdfunded. Netflix will release 14 episodes in May (that’s one month away! Be still, excitement). While Netflix is trying to temper everyone’s expectations by telling us lightning won’t strike twice, it would be interesting to know how many people signed up for Netflix because of their acquisition.
While the Arrested Development fan base is just as rabid as Veronica Mars’, there is a key difference. Unlike Veronica Mars, most people came to Arrested Development AFTER the show was cancelled. Key aspects of the show’s humor were in subtle jokes that were only noticed upon multiple or marathon viewings. This makes it a great show for Netflix. All 14 episodes will be available at once. How many of you will watch start to finish without a week in between?
That’s not all. House of Cards, staring Kevin Spacey (KEVIN SPACEY!) had a 13 episode run on Netflix. Just Netflix. It was made, produced, distributed by Netflix. Netflix has become it’s own TV studio, network, and station all rolled into one. It’s opening up a whole new avenue for storytellers. And, it’s gives viewers something TV networks can’t: the chance to watch your show whenever or wherever you want (as long as there’s an Internet connection {you can argue that the DVR did this, too, but you still have to wait a week [and my DVR is filled to capacity with my roommates' shows]}).
Amazon Prime will produce a show based on the hit movie Zombieland.
Hulu is bound to get into the game soon, too (so far, their original material has been mostly shortform). They’re already working with SNL former and current cast members on development.
What’s next for online content creators? Who knows? Perhaps viewing parties will launch their shows to trending topics on Twitter. But, don’t worry. When Arrested Development hits, it will be huge.
Things I didn’t have time to talk about: Downton Abbey, Game of Thrones, Girls, Veep
The Golden Age of Television isn’t over. It’s going platinum.
What do you want to know about the television business? Share your thoughts below and stay tuned for the next posts.
Writing to Completion
I finished writing a pilot.
It’s the first sitcom pilot I’ve written. My other scripts have all been either sci fi drama pilots or sitcom spec scripts. For those of you outside the TV writing sphere, a spec script is a script for a show that already exists.
It’s sort of weird to talk to writers about writing television shows. Some say it’s easier to write the spec, some say it’s easier to write original material. I don’t really see either as being particularly easier than the other. The hardest thing about writing a spec script (in my personal experience) is writing it for a show that will be relevant in two years. The shows I love (Up All Night, Community, Happy Endings) are all on the brink of death (don’t get me started). Or, they are overwhelming spec’d (everyone’s got their Modern Family script). 
So, with this sitcom pilot out of the way, I find myself ready for a new project. More than ready. Chomping at the bit.
Since most of my experience is novel writing, that isn’t always the case. What normally happens is I start querying agents, then I sit around and wait for my rejection letters. But, that’s not really what happens in the screenwriting world. I mean, I could query agents, but that’s not the norm.
The norm is you make friends. Your friends introduce you to producers and agents or friends of producers and agents. Most people (though not all) sell something before they get an agent. So, basically, the answer is, save the file and move on. When you meet someone who can do something with it, whip it out.
It’s a body of work.
The next thing, though. It’s a sci fi drama. And it’s gonna be huge.
The pilot I completed was part of the Completing and Presenting Your Sitcom Pilot class at Second City. There will be an onstage reading of it on April 17th at 6:30pm at Second City Hollywood (there will be two shows read on that night).
The Pitch:
What if JK Rowling got writer’s block after Harry Potter 4?
When Arthur Watkins, the main character from a wildly popular young adult series, appears to his author, M.L. Reeves, she has to figure out how to deal with her errant work of fiction while deadlines loom.
How to Achieve Your Dream
I have a dream. I don’t often talk about my dream publicly. I mean, my friends know. And my family knows. And I’m always striving, always working toward that goal. I think I have a sort of weird knock on wood mentality about my dream, like if I say it out loud, it won’t come true. It’s something that I have to keep on the inside, something that’s my own.
Before you think you know what it is, it’s not being a “writer.” Saying I want to be a writer is like saying I want to be biologically classified Homo sapien. I’ve had a problem with the word aspiring for a long time, especially as it pertains to writers. Are you writing? Yes. Are you actively pursuing a career as a writer? Yes. Than you’re a writer. If you label yourself as aspiring, my first assumption is that you’ve never actually finished writing anything that doesn’t begin with the words, “Dear Diary.”
In Hollywood, it’s weird. There’s a “who do you want to be” atmosphere that I finally reached the breaking point with.
So, here are some things I’ve learned about dreaming, straight from Hollywoodland.
1) Celebrate the victories
My dream is huge. It takes a lot of steps. Usually, when someone asks me what my dream is, I only tell them the current plateau I’m headed for. Like “head writer” or “created by.”
I have a problem taking compliments. When someone tells me they like something I’ve written, the dreamer in me reminds me that this isn’t the peak I’ve dreamed. This is a road sign to blow past. But, that’s not really the case. I’m working on celebrating these moments of compliment, because I know where they come from. Rather than answer with an I’m not there yet, I take them in stride and acknowledge and appreciate them.
2) Dreams are hard
When I told people I was moving to Los Angeles to pursue my dream, I got a lot of reactions. Most of them started with “You’re so brave.” I suppose that’s a compliment, but it struck me as odd. I didn’t think I was brave at all. I was simply doing that which was necessary to achieve what I wanted.
So, step two is to understand that some people find out that their dream is hard, and they stop going for it. There are other people that don’t acknowledge that part of their dream. There is no hard, there is only an obstacle that has to be surmounted. If you get stuck on the hard, you need to either reevaluate or quit.
3) Aspirations are misleading
So often, people want the simple answer. The question isn’t so much what as it is who. Who do you want to be?
I don’t have an answer for that. I want to be myself. I don’t want to compare myself to other people. So, Tina Fey? No. Tina Fey can be Tina Fey. I will not be better at being Tina Fey than Tina Fey is. Jane Espenson? Closer, but no. I would not make a very good Jane Espenson. (I love Jane Espenson and have the utmost respect for her.)
I understand why this is a question that people ask. It’s the same reason they have to take complex scientific theories on sci fi shows and distill them to clumsy analogies that are simple enough for a largely unscientific audience to understand.
Regardless, stop comparing me to other people. Our dreams might not be the same, and even if they were, everyone’s path is different.
4) Reputation is currency
I suppose this could be specific to my field, but I don’t think so. It’s a little bit karma, but mostly attitude. If you go out to meet people, get to know people, connect with people on a basic level, you will develop a reputation of being kind. I know myself enough that I am often considered aloof and disinterested. I’m not. I’m fully engaged, I just usually enter a receptive state.
Yes, I’m listening. But my face is apathetic. Understanding my aloofness, I have to remind my face to do things when I’m talking to people. Be aware of what you’re putting out there. People might talk about you. You don’t want them to say bad things.
That’s what I’ve learned so far. It’s a work in progress.
On Ruining Everything
A recent post about Michael Bay’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles has my childhood spinning in its proverbial grave. And, before you start accusing me of hipster nostalgia, you’ve got nothing on me. I watched the cartoon, had the toys, devoured the movies, got the Christmas ornament. I even read Ninja Turtles books. Checked them out from the library. Left it outside in the rain. That put the fear of God in me.
Anyway, that point is Michael Bay is RUINING ninja turtles. Michelle Fox! What in the…how would the…but the…
Okay, I’m going to stop myself right there.
It’s sort of interesting when these types of things happen, my mind runs to cover the eyes of some imaginary child that I don’t have, nor even want at this point in my life. It’s weird, this completely unjustified righteous indignation. And, while I do think, “It’s not even the same story. You’re changing everything. Can’t you just make that movie and leave my beloved non-alien, un-Michelle Fox Turtles alone?”
Clearly not. And it’s not really my business to say so. You see, I make a stand by not giving Hollywood my money. (In most cases, it matters not.)
But, it brings me to a weird point that probably doesn’t need to be made.
You’re not really ruining it.
While attempting a Harry Potter movie marathon last weekend, I came to a stunning realization. Those movies are DEPRESSING as HELL. As I made my way through the first three years of Harry Potter on DVD, I forgot the good times that Harry had at Hogwarts. I forgot J.K. Rowling’s sly wit and subtle humor. So much of that didn’t come out in the films. I had to stop because I knew Harry’s journey just grew darker and darker.
Did the director’s of Harry Potter ruin it?
No. I had so many fond memories of reading the books. And, fond memories of gathering with my friends to go to the midnight releases. I wonder what someone who has just seen the movies must think.
Back to the point:
Ruining things.
In many ways, we don’t want pieces of our culture to die. We bow down to them and worship. It’s like the George Lucas tithe. Every ten years, we must give him more of our dollars and eat popcorn at his altar. This reluctance to try new things is killing the movie industry. (Let’s face it, it isn’t going anywhere soon.) Studios want to bet on the sure thing. And even if everyone is going out to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in order to hate it, YOU’RE STILL SEEING IT.
If we want to maintain our culture, we should preserve it in our minds. I remember sneaking Star Wars on the basement VHS player. I remember my shock that Darth Vader was Luke’s father. I remember those episodes of Batman: The Animated Series that introduced me to every villain and left me with a fondness for boxy Batmobiles.
At some point, we have to let go of this notion of ruining. The world is progressing. It’s not easy to build a fandom from scratch, but kids do it every year. Do I love The Nanny because of it’s timeless Broadway references or because it was a part of my youth? Mostly because of the Cici/Niles repartee. Perhaps I over-inflate the brilliance of things because I have a developmental attachment to them.
Either way, we must face the facts: Batman is growing up, the Ninja Turtles are growing up, The Nanny will not come back on the air.
Accusing people of ruining things holds us back from progress. Stop being such a Raphael.
(By the way, I can’t wait for Jurassic Park 3D)
Why I won’t be hooting at Meryl Streep
When the Oscar’s come to LA (well, my part of LA, which is the Hollywood part), everything shuts down. I mean, seriously. The street is closed. Events are cancelled. This is our Super Bowl.
I thought that I could fulfill my lifelong dream of hooting at Meryl Streep.
All right, so it’s not really a lifelong dream to hoot at Meryl Streep, it’s more of a last four days dream.
Anyway, I looked up tickets for the red carpet. They’re free. Which is nice. But, then there was this.
- Write a short essay explaining why you deserve to be chosen.
- Upload three photos: full length photo, real passport photo and a recent photo with friends.
- Complete a “Background Check” conducted by the Academy’s Security Team. A passport-type photo will be required.
I can understand the background check, but an essay? A full-length photo? A recent photo with friends? I don’t even think I have this stuff on my Facebook page. In response, here’s my essay on why I DON’T deserve to be chosen for the Academy Award Red Carpet Grandstand:
I don’t care about the Oscars. I really don’t. I just wanted the opportunity to yell at celebrities in their natural habitat; award shows. I wanted the chance to see Robert Downey, Jr. I’m not even sure he’s invited to this year’s Academy Awards. I wanted the opportunity to see how tall George Clooney is (he’s short, isn’t he? I bet he’s short). I wanted to Instagram a bunch of famous people and also the back of some guy’s head. I wanted to check-in on Foursquare at the Kodak Theatre (I live pretty close; I can probably do that anyway).
The only Oscar nominated movie I saw this year was Silver Linings Playbook, so if they don’t win any awards, I’m at a loss. There was something in French, right? I don’t even know. It was probably boring.
I have no appreciation for clothing. You could point out some famous designer, and I would have no idea who you were talking about. Tuxedos. Yeah!
To be honest, if I went anywhere, it should have been the Golden Globes. Or the SAG Awards. Or the Emmys. Because I *heart* TV.
Here’s a photo of me with a finger mustache.
10 Things to Tell Your Kids (or Grandkids) You Had Back in Your Day
1. Nine Planets
Pluto was downgraded to Dwarf Planet in 2006. Be on the look out for the modern fairy tale Snow White and the Seven Dwarf Planets.
2. Mail on Saturdays
Beginning in August, the US Postal Service will no longer deliver mail (letters, catalogs, and the like) on Saturday. The plan will save $2 billion a year. Kudos.
3. A 7 time Tour de France
Lance Armstrong stripped of his titles. Doping. Have you been under a rock?
4. No asteroid mining
Not one, but two companies have unveiled plans to mine passing asteroids. The two companies, Deep Space Industries and Planetary Resources, have plans to send mining operations to objects hurling through space. Good luck, asteroid juicers.
5. Landlines/telephone poles
Well, they haven’t gone away yet, but I’m pretty sure birds will have to start finding a new place to perch soon.
6. Dial up Internet/Internet without social networking
As per 10-15 years ago, if you were on the Internet, you were either on AOL or Netscape (as of 2008, Netscape’s website basically says “Go get Firefox”). Also, you were a nerd if you were on the Internet. Now, everyone and his dog has a web presence.
7. CD’s (or, dear God, tapes)
I remember my first CD. My Best Friend’s Wedding soundtrack.
The moment I wake up,
Before I put on my makeup!
8. Physical newspapers
What will we paper mache with? What will we line the table with when we carve pumpkins?
9. OJ Simpson jokes
Kids these days. Won’t even know who he is.
10. Chalkboards
Replaced by the much more powerful whiteboard, projector, and AV department.
As our contract states, you owe me some tongue
This isn’t my usual gig, but stick around anyway for this.
I watch a lot of television, most of it streaming, so commercials are few and far between. I’m fairly good at tuning them out, too. Unless they’re funny, I find them less than useful. I buy my Apple products because I was brainwashed by my peers. The commercials had nothing to do with it.
But, recently, I heard a commercial that caught my attention FROM A DIFFERENT ROOM.
Yes, I was minding my own business while my roommate was watching TV and I heard a commercial that sounded sort of…strange. I walked in to watch the rest of it and thought, “Well, that’s Pavlovian.”
If you don’t know who Pavlov is, he’s this psychologist who taught dogs to slobber at the chime of a bell. Sound stupid? You’re wrong. What he did was ring the bell, feed the dogs, ring the bell, feed the dogs, ring the bell, feed the dogs, ring the bell…and the dogs started slobbering because they were expecting to be fed.
If you think that’s common sense (my dog eats on a schedule and gets antsy around 6; I don’t think he can tell time), Pavlov was able to prove it in a lab {and on one! ba dum chish} and as we all know, if you can’t replicate it in the lab, it didn’t happen. (Ok, psychology nerds; what I’m talking about is technically operant conditioning, but more people are familiar with Pavlov than Skinner, I would have had to explain more when they can just Google it, and I wouldn’t have been able to make the “lab” joke)
Back to the commercial.
It was a Kay Jewelers commercial. I’ve embedded it here. If you don’t see it, CLICK HERE. You see, it’s a Super Bowl ad. Millions of Americans are supposed to see this commercial. Take a look.
Maybe you think it looks sweet, but the man is working on conditioning his wife.
Pretty much every jewelery commercial is like this.
Give lady shiny rock for good thing, she do good thing again.
It even says it in their slogan. Every kiss begins with Kay.
Agreed upon contract or hidden misogynistic agenda?
I don’t know why I suddenly went on this feminist rant. I suppose it’s just been building for years, with every jewelry or Colon Blow™ yogurt ad where women are the target market. I’ve been calling the Open Hearts Collection the Tits and Ass Collection ever since I saw the first commercial four years ago because that’s what it looks like. I’m sorry, Jane Seymour. I’m sure you’re a wonderful person, but, seriously.
Am I taking it too personally? Sure. Why not? I don’t really care about jewelry. I would rather have something functional, something meaningful. For example, a wedding ring is a symbol that you are married. It can also function as a bottle opener.
If someone wanted to condition me, they would say, “Thank you. Here’s a subscription to Mental Floss,” or “Thank you. Here are the new tennis shoes you need.” Or, better yet, “Thank you. This is a gift that no one would understand except the two of us and I knew it would make you laugh and you would love it because you love me and it symbolizes our mutual trust and happiness with each other.”
Put that on a Boobs and Butt locket, Kay.
(You can argue the flip side that the commercial is conditioning the men to buy the jewelry. Commercials are all within the realm, trying to show you the rewards of a lifestyle you would achieve with their product. It doesn’t change the fact that ultimately, women are being demeaned in these ads. And it bugs me.)
This is not what I’m supposed to be doing
I’m supposed to be writing my pilot episode right now. I mean, this is the time I’ve carved out of working Job A, working Job B, writing for Sketch Show, contributing to Monologue Jokes, and Job Hunting. I started a Footloose Radio on Spotify, not because that’s the tone of the screenplay, but because Footloose and the music of Footloose’s era get me pumped up.
I’m at the coffeeshop. I have a writing buddy in hopes of keeping me honest. I have my beat sheet, my outline, my notes.
So, why am I not writing?
Well, I’m four pages into my sitcom and it’s not funny. Don’t try to get fancy with me. I know I shouldn’t be worrying about that right now, because I can always go back and revise (and I plan on doing just that.) It’s also possible that it’s funnier than what I give it credit for. You know. Possibly. I have a deadline for myself and I will meet it.
Tell me again how hilarious your sitcom is.
But, it’s gotten me thinking on what is it about this that’s going to be funny. I mean, it’s funny when I talk about it. It’s funny in my head. To be honest, I started writing this blog post hoping that I would get in touch with my funny. I mean, guys…we all know how hilarious I am.
Maybe it’s like Girls. It’s too close to reality for me to consider it funny. Maybe I’ve just had a bad week and “allocated time” isn’t what I’m looking for. Oh, and Vitamin C’s Graduation just came on, which is not helpful AT ALL.
I’ve been writing specs and editing things so long, it’s starting to feel like I’m better at helping other people find what they’re trying to say.
Do you ever feel like you can’t feel your funny? What do you do to get in touch with your inner self? Where is my writing Obi Wan-Kenobi telling me to let the hilarity flow through me?
I need a dance break. Catch you guys in five.
The End of Fringe
Well, Fringe is over. So goes another sci-fi show on Fox.
I figured with the news about J.J. Abrams inheriting the new Star Wars, I should talk about this. Who am I kidding? It’s Fringe. I would talk about it anyway.
The 5th and final season of Fringe wasn’t so great. There. I said it. Compared to the rest of the series, the 5th season left something to be desired. This is a little ironic. I remember when Letters of Transit aired, the original Observer-controlled future episode in season 4, I wanted there to be a whole spinoff series based in that world. That’s exactly where they put season 5, but here’s the problem: I didn’t want Olivia and Peter and Walter involved.
Imagine SHIELD, the upcoming Joss Whedon show. It’s not going to be about the Avengers, it’s going to be about SHIELD, which means we have the opportunity of investing in new characters in a familiar world. It’s exciting and new, but tried in true. We get to take our existing frame of reference and apply it to new situations. Human brain function relies on pattern recognition, and this feeds that function. We know the patterns. Now, we bump up to a new pattern hierarchy.
Fringe put the Avengers in SHIELD. I wanted to see resistance fighters using Fringe events to strike back against the Observers. This didn’t really happen in season 5 until the last few episodes. And while it was wholly satisfying, it would have been more entertaining to see them using the knowledge established in the first four seasons on the next level.
I wanted to see Henry Ian Cusick as the lead rebel leader. He died.
I wanted to see an army of cortexiphan super humans, the normals who responded to treatment. Wasn’t this what the series was setting up? The closest we get to this payout is the second to last episode, where Olivia is dosed with cortexiphan again in order to jump universes. Shouldn’t they have thought of that sooner? Appealing to the other universe for help? Ah well. Why dwell on it?
Really, the best way to deal with the Observer invasion was a spinoff series, but that probably wasn’t possible. Maybe he did the best with what he had.
Abrams had a time limit, with a truncated episode order. But, the ending amounted to hitting the reset button. And this is why I don’t think Abrams should have Star Wars.
Abrams doesn’t do endings.
He’s amazing at beginnings, great at middles…not so much endings. And, if he (and the royal We) can’t let go of Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, and Princess Leia, we’re not going to be satisfied with a new Star Wars movie.
He’s a fan of hitting reset buttons. This boils down to two things: don’t ask questions you never intend on answering, and don’t forget to deliver your promise of the premise.
In a perfect world, Abrams would have done the prequels, Lucas would have done the middle trilogy, and…who would I cast as the ending leader?
Joss Whedon. He knows how to write an ending. Look at Buffy. Look at Avengers. Man knows how to write an ending. Of course, Whedon would kill Chewie. Or some other beloved character. But you take the style with the style.
That’s my feelings on Fringe. Didn’t end so great. So, if you’re going to watch, stop with season 4 and you’ll be all right.
The only question left is: Do I drink the water?
I just got back from…wait for it:
THE SET OF IRON MAN 3.
So, I guess, the obvious question: No, Robert Downey, Jr. wasn’t there. It was second unit. Or not even that. Principal shooting has been done on Iron Man for awhile. No, this stuff was filler. Extra scenes that just need to fill the seams in the movie. Doesn’t matter. It was still awesome.
Great stuff below. (more…)
That Color Doesn’t Look Good on Anyone
I recently threw myself a pity party. You know the one. The one where you feel like the whole world is against you; or maybe your mouth was faster than your brain; or maybe, for some reason, your being is divided between id, ego, and superego and they all hate each other at the moment.
Whatever the reason, I started the pity party. I know why. It’s that moment when your life decisions catch up with you. Not that you made any particularly bad decisions, or decisions that you regret. It was the sort of thing where you expected everything to go smoothly and forgot that the time between decision and success is LIFE HAPPENING.
And, I usually go with the flow. But, I’m a Philosophy major, a brain, one of those overly analytical introverts that are so depressing at parties (be they “pity or otherwise)…
The Universe has not subscribed to my time table.
It all started when I realized I lost touch with my voice. Wait, not my “voice,” my Voice. That mystical, magical buzzword that all writers use (it’s bullshit, but it isn’t {but it is [but it isn't.]}) I’ve been writing things for Not Me for awhile. Spec scripts, jokes, sketches; things that are me, but they aren’t (but they are {but they aren’t [but they are.]}) In the world of The Creative, there’s the whole thing about trying to get paid for your work, so you do things to increase your exposure that are not necessarily the thing that you would be doing in that parallel universe where the world is perfect. This world isn’t really available to anyone. Even people with contracts still get rejected by their editors, producers, executives, etc. I mean, J.K. Rowling and Stephen King are pretty much the only Creatives who get to say “My rules” to whomever.
Anyway, the thing that I want, more than fame, is to be able to present a project and say, “I can make this work.” And, maybe that’s what fame is? Maybe not. Whatever the case is, I don’t want to be a sellout, I want to be a silver lining. I want to be a Fixer. I want to be the person who can turn a Nothing into a Something.
Back to the Pity Party.
- Quiet down, up there.
My Superego knew exactly who to invite to this party and made a move to protect itself. My Id, on the other hand, just wanted the immediate Pity gratification, which it sought without any consultation.
So, to those of you who were invited to the Pity Party out of Id, I apologize. I know that you love all of my parts and tried to help in the best way you could, but you were gratifying the Id, which really didn’t deserve it.
And, to those of you who were invited to the Pity Party by the Superego and showed up to throw the drink in its face, you were right. Thanks for coming.
Because, if I’m the one who wants to be able to say, “I can make this work,” sometimes the advice I need is “Make it work.”
It’s not a perfect system. My Id still begs for gratification. But, at least on some level, I’m starting to reject my self-imposed martyrdom.
Top TV Writers Talk How to Work on Successful TV Shows
Went to a panel sponsored by The Scriptwriters’ Network on Saturday. Call that my force social interaction for the week. The speakers were Glen Mazzara of The Walking Dead, Dan O’Shannon of Modern Family, Alex Cary of Homeland, Janet Tamaro of Rizzoli & Isles, Vanessa Taylor of Game of Thrones & Matt Nix of Burn Notice. As you can tell, some hefty names in there.
They started with the usual grab bag of “How I Broke in Stories.” I appreciate these to a certain extent, but the thing that nearly all of the stories boil down to is: Know Someone.
They knew someone, They met someone at a party, such and so introduced them to their agent. It’s not easy. You have to network. So, circle this, star it, bookmark it, whatever. If you want to write for television, somewhere, somehow, you’re going to have to know someone in or around the industry. What this translates to is: get to Los Angeles. I’m not poo-pooing your dreams and maybe there are exceptions, but look deep inside yourself and decide whether or not you’re Katniss Everdeen and even she had sponsors. Peeta had to know someone to get a leg up (oh! A leg up! Snap!)
Enough with the Hunger Games references. What other wisdom did I take away from the experience?
You have to write. A lot.
You have to get used to rejection. Janet Tamaro, as a female showrunner, asked the men on the panel what the male equivalent to “bitch” was. Interestingly, the joking answer was “success.” And all the panelists were kinda like, “well…yeah.”
But let’s be honest:
Perhaps the biggest thing they hit on was Voice. (Yes, so big I capitalized it)
It’s weird, Voice. Sometimes, I feel like I don’t have a Voice. No, not sometimes. All the time. What is my Voice? How am I different? How can I be different while proving that I can also be the same?
This comes on the tail end of me pitching something in class that I probably shouldn’t have. I started the pilot writing class on Tuesday, a class that will end with a group of actors reading my pilot on stage. This is an awesome opportunity, to see what someone will do with my work. And, I pitched my half-baked idea. I had my ready to go idea. And I pitched my half-baked idea.
My heart’s in it. I love my half-baked idea. But my brain started berating me. I’m not ready to write this. Which makes it, perhaps, the perfect time to start writing it. It’s like I snuck up on this idea in the jungle and surprised it into submission. Hopefully, I can wrestle it to the ground before it gets its legs underneath it.
Well, once again, I’ve turned this blog around and made it all about me.
I guess what you really need to know is that nobody knows what they’re doing. And also no one can really tell you what to do. We’re all firing in the dark. Some people have flashlights, but when they hand them over, they don’t always work correctly.
Last note: Dan O’Shannon wrote a book about some of his comedy experiences called What Are You Laughing At? If you’ve read it, let me know what you thought. I will probably take a look at it and throw a review up here. I suppose I should get back to being “smartly droll*” about books.
* A friend of mine said I was smart droll so I’m stealing it. Welcome to the world of writing.
Home Office? More like Pajama Party!
I won’t pretend that I haven’t hit the jackpot. I work from home. When you think about it, that’s pretty awesome. No, even when you don’t think about it, it’s really awesome. And for some reason, there’s this weird conception out there that I do everything in my pajamas, and that’s not exactly a lie.
But there are some pitfalls to working from home.
Like no human interaction. When you’re communicating through emails with everyone, sometimes you wonder if there’s actually someone on the other side. I keep getting paychecks, so I assume…
Then, there’s the whole thing with the pajamas. If I don’t have pajamas on by one ‘o clock in the afternoon, it means I’m not going anywhere, so I might as well throw on the Snuggie and stretch the power cord of the laptop over the back of the couch. And just like Wear Your Pajamas to Work Day, I’m not nearly as productive. What do you mean there’s no Wear Your Pajamas to Work Day? Is that not a thing at your office?
My computer is for fun and for profit. There’s no difference between my work computer and my home computer (except for that one thing about the Java update that means I have to use that one bit of software on the old computer, but that’s neither here nor there).
I don’t have a water cooler. My roommates are out of the house most of the time. I don’t have a receptionist. Or a mail guy. It gets sort of lonely. Sometimes, I go a couple days without leaving the house. My thoughts start to echo back in my head. Television is my friend.
Anyway, the real productivity comes from getting out of the house. If I go to a coffeeshop, I’ll sit and work for four to six hours straight, no breaks, no lunches, not even a bathroom pause.
And, if I’m bored on a Saturday night or Sunday afternoon, it’s easy to fall into work. I’ve gotten emails at 11:30 at night which could wait till the morning, but of course my first response is to do it now. I get work emails on my phone, on my computer, sometimes even alerts on my iPad. Is that how most people do it these days?
My Midwestern ideals make it so I have to work. I feel guilty if I don’t. Sometimes, I feel like that horse in Animal Farm. Pretty soon, the only thing I’ll be good for is glue.
Which brings me to a point, sort of, about introversion. I land pretty high on the introversion score. I like hanging out with other introverts. Extroverts freak me out and make me suspicious and paranoid. Why are you so happy? Why are you telling everyone you’re so happy? Don’t touch me. Why are we hugging?
If they talk about things I’m interested in, I’m less suspicious. But, getting stuck inside by myself for extended periods of time sort of reminds me why humans are social creatures. You gotta get out there and meet people. Or be stuck inside with your own irritating self who won’t shut up about Underworld until we watch it seven times.
Home office or regular office, work is work. What are the pitfalls of your daily plod?
The Writers’ Currency
Monday night was the first writers’ meeting for the new season of the TMI Hollywood, the show I write for at Second City. The new cast members came and mingled with the writers over the one thing that brings all walks of LA life together: free food. After a recap of last year and the expectations of this year, the cast made their way out and the writers got down to what they do best.
Pose for Cultural Diversity Day
Coming up with stuff to write about.
In a sketch comedy writers room (at least in this one), the writers have their own special brand of currency. I know, I know. The initial thing to yell out is “Words! Writers deal in words!” and in some cases, that’s true.
But words are the currency of the novelist.
The comedy sketch writer deals in trivia.
We huddle around a table, pitching ideas and trading knowledge like baseball cards. Bill O’Reilly said this, Justin Bieber did that. But, pop culture is only the surface.
We have a politics guy. Now, I’m not saying we have a politics guy in terms of a guy who’s job is to keep an eye on the political atmosphere. That’s small town. Our politics guy can name all the United States presidents, vice presidents, and failed candidates in order, not to mention dropping campaign slogans like they’re party favors. It’s not like he has fast fingers on Google. These are just things that he’s learned and retained over his history of education.
This leads to doors and pathways of humor that one person alone has a hard time seeing by themselves.
Sometimes, it feels like an episode of Big Bang Theory. I expect someone to drop something like “Oppenheimer was notoriously hard to work with,” or “a gathering of cats is called a clouder.” And, it’s not ironic. It’s the difference between data and knowledge.
Nowadays, we can look up anything on the Internet. It seems as though “knowledge” is at our very fingertips, but what is really at our fingertips is data. Data, without a brain behind it, is pretty useless. It’s interesting, though, what’s revealed in the knowledge we retain. You can never really lie about what intrigues you. When someone has a piece of knowledge they can’t wait to share, it practically bursts out of them.
Perhaps not everyone who thirsts for knowledge is a writer, but it seems that a lot of writers thirst for knowledge. Knowledge fuels their power cells and they’re ready to share the fuel.
Newsworthy News of Newsworthy Importance
I realized that I didn’t really talk about this on the Interwebz, and part of the reason is because I wanted to tell people in person. I mean, there’s something impersonal about reading it on a blog. But, since everyone’s doing their yearly recap, this is bound to get lost in that shuffle.
I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you in person, but everyone I’ve wanted to tell face-to-face I’ve told face-to-face unless I’m not going to see them in the foreseeable future, so here it goes.
I’m a working writer.
Not in the “I’ve gotten a rejection letter” sense. That happened, like, eight years ago. No, I’m a working writer in the sense that my words are being performed.
If you missed the Facebook announcement, I am a staff writer for TMI: Hollywood, a show on stage at Second City Hollywood. I’m also a contributing writer to Top Story! Weekly which is a show at the iO West Theater in Hollywood.
I owe a big thanks to Candace Haven. One night, in her swank Beverly Hills Hotel penthouse (where people make promises they intend on keeping), she forced me to make a list of goals with a deadline attached to them. One I made was to be in a writers’ room by January and I was in a writers’ room by October.
So, that’s the news from this side of the desk. I will be writing the pilot episode of my sitcom and possibly staging it within the next four months, so that should be fun. Maybe some of that will end up here.
I was never a fan of the word “aspiring,” but, regardless, I can dump it now. Also, I’m not really an “author,” so I’ll go with “Comedy Writer.”
Go Theater Nerds!
‘Twas The Night Before Rapture
‘Twas the night before Rapture and all through the land; We hoped that the Mayans were wrong on their plan.
For some people said it would be over soon.
Many of us hope they’d just run out of room.
With holiday greetings still stacked on the shelves; We hoped to see light at the end of Two Thousand and Twelve.
With cable news glowing, lights upon the Christmas tree.
We tentatively watched and thought, “Well, I guess we’ll see.”
But everything became boring, no word of mass dead. I thought, ‘Geez, forget this. I’m going to bed.”
I shuffled upstairs and I turned out the light.
Too exhausted to think this could be my last night.
So many ways to go, zombie, asteroid, or drought.
I’m going to sleep, you guys figure it out.
For you see, if tomorrow, the world begins splitting.
You can bet bet the doomsday preppers are the first people I’m hitting.
Wrapping Paper
I have a question.
Why is wrapping a Christmas present the hardest thing ever?
I mean, it should be easy, right? The thing with the fold and the tap dispenser and flip the corners in with the point and the box and NOOO! JUST STOP!
This is the worst part of the Christmas season.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave out any of my non-Christian friends. But, guys. Wrapping gifts. Am I right?
It doesn’t help that my mother is a gift-wrapping savant. She can wrap cubes, pyramids, tetrahedrons, dodecahedrons, spheres (though I guess spheres wouldn’t be that difficult, right?). Did I get a gift wrapping gene from Mom? Nope. I just put the box on the paper and look up at Mom with a whimper like a guilty puppy that’s just made a mess on the carpet.
And you can’t do gift bags. No, you get judged for gift bags. I mean, I say, “I saw this gift bag and it looked so YOU!” but then I get the judgement stares of, “But, doesn’t this gift bag come in wrapping paper?”
Every Christmas season, we get our designated time in the Wrapping Room. If the door is shut, you must knock and announce yourself so the Wrapper has the chance to give you the all clear. Usually, we have a Wrapping Buddy. Mom has the work station planned out, so the buddy is more moral support then helper. Your elf, as it were, if Santa had OCD.
When we were younger, every present from Santa was wrapped in Santa wrapping paper. I say when we were younger, but that still happens. To this day, I still get gifts from Santa. I’m 26 years old. I am not arguing with this. Santa, I’m a big fan. Keep ‘em coming.
Despite my disdain for the Wrapping Paper tradition, I love giving gifts. I love the surprise. I’m one of those people that tries to put tons of thought into a gift. I want to see the reaction. I’ve made people cry with my gift-giving skills and that is a power worth wielding.
What is your Achilles’ heel of the holiday season? Let me know in the comments.
Talk Amongst Yourselves
You know you’ve reached a weird point when you start Search Engining blog topics. I mean, what do I write about?
Part of my problem is overload. I’m writing four sketches a week, 10 jokes a week, two blog posts a week for work (why is that always easier?), and developing a sitcom pilot while keeping one eye open for work in the entertainment industry.
So, I guess I’ll update you on random things and you can talk amongst yourselves.
- Love, love, love Los Angeles. Go…Theater Nerds? (I’m not sure what team I’m supposed to cheer for here.)
- Still working two and a half jobs from home. Garbage disposal broke. Plumber came over to replace it. I awkwardly hovered over him and tried to talk about TV shows.
- I flirted with him a bit, but he turned me down. It’s cool. Those inter-office romances never work anyway.
- I’ve started referring to all my neighbors by their Native American names. Works On Car. Lets Dog Poop. Flirts With Kate. Has Loud Sex.
- Egg nog is a meal in and of itself.
- My Second City classes were lovely. They cost a lot of money. Those two things probably aren’t related, but whatever.
- I haven’t finished reading a book in two months.
- I’m reading Pride & Prejudice and I love it. Which makes me a stereotypical girl, but I’m dealing with that in my own way.
- I lost a friend and made two.
- I’ve been earning Adulthood badges like gangbusters.
Well, what have you been up to? I think you don’t realize how busy you are until you look at the date and think, “Hm. I should have my Christmas shopping done by now.”
Happy Hanukkah everybody!
How to change a blinker in 12 easy steps and 1 not so easy one
I recently gained an Adulthood badge. I had to fix a car issue with my own two hands. Curious, are you? Well, here’s an easy how-to guide.
How to Change A Blinker in 12 Easy Steps and 1 Not So Easy
1. Determine if your blinker needs changing.
Most cars have a signal for this. The blinker that isn’t functioning properly usually blinks manically when you turn it on. That’s your first clue. If you are new to Los Angeles and don’t have any friends, verifying isn’t as easy as asking someone to help you. So either pull up to a wall in the dark or flip on the blinker and get out to check yourself.
2. Stop using your car immediately.
You are saving lives.
3. Forget that your blinker needs to be changed.
This is easily accomplished by only driving your car once a week and mostly making turns counter to the the blinker that is burned out.
4. Only drive at night so as to not be able to see anything in the engine when you get home.
Yeah. Darkness is not helpful for bulb changing.
5. Be reminded by your dad that your blinker is burnt out.
Really, the further away your dad is from the problem, the better. My dad was 1400 miles away. If he can remember your problem when he’s that far from it, you should probably get that worked out.
6. Locate the nearest auto repair shop.
And I can walk there! Bonus!
7. Wait until something else goes wrong with your car.
Low coolant? Well, that seems important. Hm.
8. Remove blinker bulb.
This is actually pretty easy. Did you know that your car has an OWNER’S MANUAL? Usually in the GLOVE BOX? (Not just for gloves, apparently)
9. Drive to the auto repair shop making only turns allowed by the functional blinker.
Take twice as long as necessary and make sure it is dark outside.
10. Buy bulb/coolant/wiper fluid
Don’t be afraid to ask for help. These guys know what they’re doing.
11. Drive home timing your arrival so that your neighbor who always works on his car is working on his car when you get there.
That’s not so hard. Now that you mention it, why is he always working on his car?
12. Don’t ask him for help.
It’s time to man up and earn that Adulthood badge.
13. Change your blinker.
It’s, like, #8 in reverse.
Well, there you have it. How to change a blinker. You, too, can earn this Adulthood badge. At least you didn’t have to change a tire on the side of the highway.
(Oh, yeah, and the hard one was #9)
