This Is Not Important

Various Other Unimportant Items

2006-03-11T11:23:00.000-06:00

The name of the parrot in the Pirates movies is Chip. Chip has acquired, through training, the skill of not getting freaked out by loud noises (like cannons firing). This is an underrated skill in comparison to the more flashy ability to talk. The bird was so cool and calm and laid-back. Like a surfer bird. Or a bird that smokes pot all the time. And completely beautiful. In the sunlight, especially morning sunlight, it's feathers are iridescent. They almost glow. And here's a factoid about talking birds in movies. I was talking to the bird trainer and he said that most birds that talk in movies aren't really talking. They dub a human voice mimicing a bird in post production. This is due to all the noise and sound recording problems that occur during filming. And then he showed me a command with his hands and arms that Chip responded to by opening and closing his beak like he was talking. It was pretty cool. He showed me other commands where Chip would ruffle his feathers, spread his wings, walk funny, bob his head around, and others. Really, really smart animals. Birds I mean, not humans. It was quite a calming effect to hang out with Chip as the Pearl moved away from shore to set up for the day's filming. Seagulls are another story. Seriously...they're another story.

"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."--Oscar Wilde
Great. That's encouraging. That's the thing I hate about quotes. And what I love about them. They encapsulate a world of emotions and thoughts and concerns etc. into one or a few sentences. We seem to have become able to process life in this manner and in this manner only. It's easier to get a handle on a situation if it's quick, direct, and spoon-fed. That way we can say, "Ahhh...that's it!" We have too much information bombarding us with too many channels on television, the web (see how I love irony?), and Maury Povich. Too much of this shit makes us reactionary. We have no time to think about something because we don't need to. There's something else half a second away to occupy our gnat-like attention span. No more need for deep thought. But when a quote works...well, that's something different. More quotes will follow.

Killing Time on the Black Pearl

2006-03-05T10:27:00.000-06:00

ok, so here is a song that I co-wrote with my good friend Tom. He's from London and has the more absurd grade-school sense of humor rather than the dry wry other british sense of humor. Much more Monty Python than As Time Goes By. This is rated R but mostly silly. Read and/or sing it with a jaunty on the high seas kind of rhythym. We came up with this in about 10 minutes or so as the Black Pearl was leaving port and we had time to kill as the ship went out to sea. It was a sunny day and Tom had his hand on the rail looking out to sea and said out loud..."I used to be a man whore..." and it went from there. I miss you Tom. Here are the lyrics to the best of my recolection.

I used to be a man whore
Until my anal ring became to sore
Tired of carpet burns from the floor
And sucking cock is such a bore

This may come to you as a bit of a surprise
But I want my face between her thighs
To hear the sound of her gentle laughter
As I tip her over and roughly shaft her

The vaginal lobes are my favorite thing
To think of it makes me sing:
Tra-La-La-La-La-La-La-Ting...
Can you hear the clitoris bell ring?

(DING!)

I used to be a man whoooooooore....

Completely ridiculous but fun.

Once a pirate, always a pirate...

2006-03-05T08:01:00.000-06:00

So I just read my first posting and what a bitch am I? Waa waa waa. I'm part of a major motion picture and I must complain about it. But seriously, the best thing is the friends I got to know while there. Let me just give a shout out to Joseph, Patrick, Jason, and Norm. There were many others, but this was our core crew. I love you guys. I could not have survived without you all. If you haven't played the card game Phase 10, you must. Thank you Norm. We got all gussied up in our EITC (East Inian Trading Company) marine uniforms--and some of you were sailors as well--or our pirate costumes with glued on facial hair and fake weapons and sat around a table playing that curse-ed card game. Four o'clock in the morning is an exceptionally early call, but Phase 10 certainly was a wonderful way to pass the time. During one take on the Black Pearl, dressed as pirates, I made Patrick laugh. I'm not going to lie, I looked like a Mexican with my glued on mutton chops and big moustache. There's nothing wrong with looking like that, but it was such a complete tranformation of my face that I became this totally different person. I thought that dressing up as a pirate would make me look meaner and tougher, but it ultamately had a comedic effect. It took some adjustment. I was called anything from Juan Valdez (which gave me the opportunity improvise about making coffee and living on the mountain with my mule), to John Lovitz if he were to dress like a pirate, a Sergio Leone spaghetti western character, and finally--the name that stuck--El Guapo. The infamous El Guapo. Would you say that I have a plethora of pinatas? OK, I don't know if I spelled that correctly, but you get the idea. Pictures will ensue. The food was incredible. Getting up at 3:30 in the morning was somehow justified by having a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, french toast, grits, and some sort of apple turnover concoction. It rocked. Lunch was even better with fish or steak or a collection of vegetables. Our last lunch (when Bruckheimer addressed the crowd) consisted of huge lobster tails and filet mignon with bernaisse sauce and mashed potatoes and various vegetables. Mmmm mmmm good. So, it wasn't all bad. Can't wait to see the movie and buy the DVD.

I'D RATHER NOT BE IN THE BAHAMAS

2006-03-04T12:14:00.000-06:00

Well, this is all new to me (blogging), so i'll have to feel this out as I go along. Just got back about 44 hours ago from a month and a half bitter-sweet experience. I count myself fortunate to have been a part of the Pirates of the Caribbean filming process--you know, being an actor and all--but I do have some mixed feelings about it. Remember when I was a kid (more than likely you don't, but I do), and movies took you to a different place? I mean they still do, but I'm talking about a kind of romantic notion. If the movie is good, the final product is mesmerizing and potentially thought-provoking/entertaining/life-changing, etc. Well, that's the polished stone made from a crude rock. The process itself is was everything and nothing that I expected. Keep in mind that I was a simple background actor, bottom of the heap, the fodder that gives the flower its color. My only frame of refference is theatre where from start to finish there's an arc that you can hold on to and follow, regardless of any qualitative concerns. It could suck, but I know where I stand. This was a little slice of chaos. Hurry up and wait was what it was all about. Dispensible expendable actors. It felt like there were too many cooks in the kitchen all trying to make the same dish in their own individual way. But that was only how I interpreted the process. It was kind of like being a fly on the wall. Too many alpha-males aping importance and control. After all, to date it is the most expensive series of movies ever made, so I suppose you have to come in swinging your dick to justify the cost. It was big, I mean REALLY big--an incredible amount of money being spent to create something I used to do in my backyard as a kid. I had an epiphany one day when I realized I was dressed as a freaking pirate with a fake sword and pistol on the Black Pearl with other pirates wearing wigs and fake facial hair. How can you take it seriously? But at times, without a doubt, it was kick-ass fun. I got to be ten years old again swashbuckling in a real place that used to exist only in my imagination. That was cool. Really cool. I've only been back a couple of days so I'm still trying to process this thing--six weeks was a life time and a life-style, and getting back to Chicago is nothing less than culture shock. OK. I feel a little better now. I appologize for my forthcoming redundancy, but there are stories to tell. Cool pirate stories. To my fellow EITC and pirate brothers...I love you and FYM.