Last week, it got to 111 degrees in Valencia! That's an oven on "warm." That's hotter than an Easy Bake Oven. That's enough to melt s'mores. That's one reason why you can drink a quart of water and not have to urinate all day!
Well, the last one is something I experienced while hanging out in Yuma, Arizona, about 15 years ago. I was looking for a TV news reporter job and accepted an invitation to check out the job market out there. It got to about 112 that day. My host took me to 7-Eleven, bought a Super Big Gulp, and said he'll fill that up two more times that day and won't pee once. That's how hot and dry it gets in the desert.
I mentioned to my supervisor that they had booked me through August, so he went and talked to his supervisor and came back and said, "Can you work at least through September? You can be as flexible as you want. Just let me know if you can't come in."
That's right. They want to book me for another month, but if I have other obligations, it's okay. Alright, someone pinch me because I must be suffering from heat stroke. Or maybe the people in the office are suffering from heat stroke. I mean, this is weird.
I mentioned I had some obligations at the end of September and he said that'd be fine. That's when I'll be shooting my first union commercial in, like, 3 years! Three years! Now that's a dry spell.
I don't know how much a guy can earn on something like that if it airs — if I'm seen in the spot when it airs — but it's enough to make a guy pretty giddy. Just hope I don't psych myself out. That's a long time to wait.
I was going through some old papers yesterday while preparing to do my taxes. Ran across a phone number from an actor named Bob Lee. I saw him at a commercial audition and we chatted and he gave me his number. I believe I gave him mine as well. Anyway, he had a pretty good run with a national commercial and I was pretty proud of the guy. He had moved from Seattle about a year before at the age of, say, 48 and he was doing pretty well for himself.
About a month or two later, he went to Arizona, I believe, to visit his two sons, one of whom was performing in a play. (He'd been divorced and had visitation rights with his kids.) Apparently, he went to his hotel room one night and never woke up. It was something health-related like diabetes or asthma, but quite a shock to everyone who knew him. He seemed so happy and content just before that.
It's Labor Day weekend and it's supposed to reach 95 degrees today — too hot outside to do much. I think I'll just stay home and finish these here taxes.
No comments:
Post a Comment