I’m amused at how tangled things have become. Instead of writing about my battles in the game of Hollywood, I hitch. I hesitate as if THAT were my soft spot. On the flip side, my reservations in writing about my life have whittled to almost nothing. It’s more than a bit troubling…
I got a call yesterday. When I hung up, I felt ill…even if it was only for a moment.
In terms of my career, the career I re-located my ass out here for…I really only have two things on my plate. In case you need to be brought up to speed…
1. Wrapping a Script.
2. Swapping jabs with Mickey Mouse house.
That’s it. For the time being, my personal and professional directions are mapped out and tidy. You could say I’m simplifying things…that I need to broaden my perspective. I disagree. Things are good. Things are perfect.
But the call was from Disney. If you’ve been reading, the “girl” I’ve been referring is an exec from the studio. I know it’s difficult to sift. In between the banished ex girlfriends I foolishly re-fall for, the Philippine call girls and my 8-12 hour crushes…the “she” droppings can be a bit much. My separation is the knowledge that this is the one breaking me in.
By now, we have a good repore. Good enough where she calls…or, at least has her assistant call to say they filled MY POSITION. It was the position I was supposed to pitch for “In the New Year.” What’s the date today? January 26th. I had an opportunity that 10,000 people in this town would cut their wrists for…and I let it roll off my back. I flaked…sort of. And I feel a slight awful for it.
This is a town full of cold shoulders…the most locked down industry in the world. There are millions of “wannabes” and only a handful of “ares.” It’s your run of the mill power struggle scenario. Simply swap variables. Vanity for genocide. Narcotic driven economy for…actually, that works on both fronts. As I was saying, those holding power want to keep it. AND, those that have it remember how many times they had to break, mend and re-break their backs to get it.
I don’t understand why they called, again. Or…why they’re so encouraging, again. “Come June, you’ll have a foot up.” It’s not like they owe me anything, again. To them, I should be a nobody (though you and I know considerably better). Then again, she read my 1st(4th) script and said she and another executive really liked it. Hence, my meeting/our relationship. For some reason, I never believed her.
At the very least, if you were curious as to why I wanted to land this thing, your question should be answered. There’s heart there. If anything gets me…that’s it.
And yet the other side of my head knows I’d be better off on my own. Give and take…the greatest fucking bastard I know.
…
It’s funny, the process. Come to Hollywood with Hollywood dreams and all you want is a chance…the coveted “foot in the door.” Most people never get one, and 99% of the time…deservedly so.
Mine’s in. I’m 1 person away from anyone in this town. Tom Cruise might be 2, but besides Tommy, anyone else. It’s comforting, calming, cooling. There’s no who, what, when, where, why or how. I only have to worry about being one thing in this entire world…
Fucking remarkable.
And I want you to understand what I’ve understood. I took a break from my script, my “in” to write this. If it were a shit piece, I’d be upstairs, kicking the hell out of Frank, my accountant neighbor due to concerns I let a golden opportunity slide.
Frank is fine. He’s upstairs, probably masturbating to gay porn…getting ready to dream the night away. I didn’t harm a hair on his head.
If it were a shit piece, I’d be a twitchy, panicked, backpedaling fuckrunner. Use your imagination. Just like it sounds.
I ain’t that. So at the end of the day, at the end of it all, is it any surprise that all roads lead to such familiar stomping grounds…
Sweet, coveted uncertainty.
