I've discovered a lot about myself while working as a background actor. If a giant monster attacks New Orleans, I will be the first to be eaten. The director set up the shot by saying: "Imagine a monstrous, forbidding, swirling cloud descending upon the city and destroying life." The director should have remembered that this is New Orleans. That description of our imaginary monster is the weather report several times a summer down here. These people don't run in fear from large murderous clouds, they run to a bar and invent a drink to honor it.
We got the gist of what he wanted. Running in fear toward the camera, looking over our shoulders at a computer generated monster who will be added months from now. Ironically, we were looking in the direction of the BP oil spill. He wanted fear and terror, panic and confusion. He got it. People from New Orleans work well together only if you dress them up in costumes and line them up in the street to perform in the same direction. It was just another form of parade. Imagine if everyone on a crowded Bourbon street simultaneously saw the same hallucination, that's what I did today at work.
I'm 47, I don't run. I have flat feet, and today is the first time I ever wore sandals. There were several flip flop injuries that instituted wardrobe changes for tomorrow. When the 300 or so of us would walk back to position one (the starting point,) we would see a half a dozen or so shoes scattered down the street with cell phones as punctuation marks. New Orleans takes a lot of pride in it's well organized evacuations.
The last time I had to sprint 2 blocks was in Belmar NJ on my forty third birthday. The reason I was running is complicated. It involved a stolen eight ball of coke, a criminally insane stripper and a very irate Italian mobster driving around Belmar looking for us. I probably shouldn't say much more.
Here it is. Much thanks to my friend Russell for the many hours invested in this project. In the middle of production, he received a call to help out on the special effects for a low budget ghost movie. That gig payed, Binge didn't. Russell still managed to work on both projects.
So here is the first real animated BiNGE project. It was a learning experience for the both of us.
I've been promising all three of my fans that there will be a short animated BiNGE episode soon. Well here is the opening sequence. The rest is still being painstakingly glued together to be debuted shortly. So to tease you, here is the opening titles. It's a two minute cartoon, what did you expect, a trailer?
We threw in a Taratino reference, and kind of a slam against cheap anime.
I hit Craigslist a couple of times a day. Not a lot out there. When I first arrived in New Orleans in March, my buddy Aaron suggested that I start applying for work on off shore oil rigs. Great money, adventure. I wouldn't be doing the roustabout kind of work, too old. The rigs are like small cities in the Gulf, they need janitors and cooks. I started to send out resumes to a few companies.... the rest is history.
At one of the temp agencies I found some work doing labor. Even though I was twice the age of most of the local kids hired from the same agency, I kept up and even out worked some. I didn't bitch about doing the work that was given. I was thankful for it. The manager that hired us through the temp agency pulled me to the side and took my number. I never expected to hear from him.
Yesterday my phone rings, I have a week's work waiting for me in Biloxi Mississippi. Unloading trucks and assembling school furniture. They'll put me and a few others up at a Motel 6 and feed us, plus pay. I explained that my car was in the shop, he said he'll set me up with a ride to Biloxi. I'm glad to find a place where the work ethic does not go unnoticed. I'll keep you posted. BTW, it's pronounced Bil- LUX-i, not bil-OX-i. Pronounce it wrong and the locals laugh. Let's see them try to pronounce Manasquan or Hohokus.
and he worked as a background extra on a show starring JOHN GOODMAN
the other guy worked with a director who worked with LINDSAY LOHAN
Probably in July 2010 the latest BiNGE animation. My co-conspirator Russell is putting all of the pieces together between naps. I just saw the opening sequence, totally different from what I would have done. It was great, I like to have a collaborative effort with others. I hope none of you will be disappointed with the two minute epic.
I underestimated the power of satire. Evidently my latest blog about being a background extra as an oil clean up worker was taken seriously. I apologize to anyone who may have forwarded the posting as a true account of an actual event. It was not. I was drawing from my experience as a film background actor and recent reports from the Gulf Coast where staged news clean ups are taking place. It was not my intent to mislead anyone or any news agency into believing that the incident was real. It was written in a satirical vein.
In the future I will post disclaimers to prevent a humorous posting from being taken seriously.
Today I started at six in the morning on a background extra job. Several of us were in wardrobe being fitted into white Tyvek suits with brand new hard hats. The director held up a metal garden rake with the price tag still on it from Home Depot. "Who knows what this is?" After several seconds of silence I responded "A rake?" "You got the part." The other two background extras were issued a black trash bag and a roll of paper towels.
Loaded into a van and driven down to the gulf coast where we sat in the extras holding area until about 10:30. A production assistant barged in and announced the camera crew had arrived and the principal would be there shortly. We were ushered out onto an oil covered beach to take position behind a stand in. Carefully arranged by the director to our needed places. "Don't get any oil on the suites, we need to re-use them tomorrow." He pointed to me "Same thing for the rake, keep it clean so we can return it to the store." Seeking direction I asked if he wanted me to actually rake the tar balls on the sand. "Hell no, that will leave a bare spot and show how bad the rest of the beach actually is." The director scanned the shore and went flew a fit of rage. "HOW THE HELL DID THAT GET INTO MY SHOT?" A dead water fowl was bobbing in the surf. A skittish grip replied it must have washed up in the past few minutes. "Well, get rid of it, it defeats the purpose of us being here."
Soon after the TV news cameras took position a shiny heavy SUV pulled up. Dozens of official looking men secured the area as President Obama took the place of where the stand in had stood. A half a dozen handlers milled around him. "Where is it?" Obama asked. "Too windy to use the teleprompter sir, just stick to the key words, you'll do fine." "Mannerisms?" "Thumbs up when you mention the Federal Government, angry fist when you speak of BP. Point to the beach to show concern and resolve."
Ten minutes later cut was yelled and the president and camera crews had left. The background extras crammed into the van. "Hurry up, Governor Jindal is holding a press conference in the next parish at three o'clock, we need you to stand behind him. Remember, don't get your suites dirty."
I should have clarified that was a satirical blog. Reports from the coast are that oil clean up crews are only around when TV new teams are. As soon as the cameras leave, so do the clean up crews. Many of the news reports have a "staged" look. Guys in pristine white suites with rolls of Bounty paper towels wiping down blades of oily grass. Numerous members of clean up crews have been sent to the hospital because BP refuses to allow them to wear respirators. If the workers wear the masks, then it would be an admission by BP that the oil slick is in fact toxic. So if an individual tries to wear any respiratory protection he is fired from the clean up work. Remember what happened to the 911 clean up crews?
AP WIRE REPORT THURSDAY JUNE 24 2010 THE FIRST NAMED TROPICAL STORM OF 2010 .
TROPICAL STORM ALEX HAS FORMED IN THE LOWER CARRIBEAN AND IS EXPECTED TO INTENSIFY TO A CATEGORY 2 STORM AND TARGET THE LOWER COAST OF LOUISIANA NEAR THE MOUTH OF THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER BY THE END OF NEXT WEEK. GULF OIL SPILL CREWS HAVE SAID BEGINNING SUNDAY THEY WILL BE PACKING UP AND CEASING OPERATIONS IN THE GULF OF MEXICO AS FOR THE ARRIVAL OF ALEX NEXT WEEK.
MORE ON THIS BREAKING STORY AS IT DEVELOPS AP WIRE REPORT .
Bad decisions, nothing will make me laugh out loud when I'm by myself more than when I think about all of the bad decisions I have made. Bad decisions when it came to money. Bad decisions of who I associated myself with. Bad decisions of careers. Bad decisions.
I decided to change my life and reinvent myself to be one who makes the right choices when I moved. I moved from Jersey to ground zero of the world's worst ecological disaster a month before it happens. Good decision. Really, I love this city, love these people. I made the right decision. My friend in Seattle said. "Wow, you had to move front row center to the end of the world." "Yea, New Orleans has been chosen to be the host city of the Apocolypse, that's cooler than the Olympics."
In the past three months I have been homeless sleeping in a car, I've rubbed elbows with TV stars. I got to be a twelve foot high Jester leading a parade down Bourbon Street. I've gotten to be a street performer in the French Quarter. I've smoked up with Asian gang members. I had U.S. Marshals point weapons at me, handcuff me and run me down to Orleans Parish Prison. I've walked the same streets as pirates, artists and musicians have for hundreds of years. I've made great friends. Like Waffle and Dr Maad.
Moving to New Orleans, the best decision I ever made.
I believe New Jersey can help with the oil clean up in the Gulf. Every year New Jersey must clean it's beaches after the Guidoes leave an oil slick on the shore. It consists not of crude oil but a vile combination of baby oil, olive oil and hair gel. The tar balls that wash up in Belmar NJ are actually oily balls of hair from the underarms of girls named Maria. If Jersey can return it's beaches to a nearly pristine state after a summer of a hundred thousand guys named Antony lying on it, there is hope.
When I left Jersey there was lots of days filled with drizzle. Day after day of annoying light rain. For the past two months or so down here mostly sunny and humid. Natives keep warning me of the summer to come. That's what weeds outs visitors from those who stay. Back in NJ I always dressed as if it was ten degrees colder than it was. Long johns when it was 50 degrees out, long sleeves when it was 70. My passengers would bitch because I seldom turned the air conditioner on in my cab during the summer. Of course they usually were 100 pounds over weight and had been drinking heavily for six hours.
Today rain, lots of hard driving rain blowing sideways with non stop thunder. Storms that creep in dump a ridiculous amount of water then roll off leaving things steamy and more humid. Every morning I crawl out to the deck with cigarettes, coffee and shades just to sit there in the sun like a reptile starting it's day. 8 am, 80 degrees and humid.
Predictions from the TV meteorologist seem to point to a very active Hurricane season. To make matters worse, a severe storm will push the oil slick far inland, perhaps into Lake Pontchartrain. The churning storm waters of the Gulf combined with high winds might send some of the oil airborne. This of course will coat everything inland with a thin slimy coat of crude oil.
Locals are angry, but resigned to this. Being the oldest city in America they roll with any punch that hits them. Four nations have flown flags over New Orleans, countless floods, wars, hurricanes have given this town the "F*ck it, let's party tonight, tomorrow we die" attitude. Most people I have met said they will not evacuate again. I can't say what I will do, probably face the Apocalyptic summer with a Hurricane in hand laughing because it still is better than New Jersey.
Slide show of all of the cartoons that I have drawn since arriving in New Orleans. BP oil spill, looking for work on Bourbon Street, working as a background extra on films, being arrested by US Marshals in a case of mistaken identity.
If the oil spill had taken place off of Long Island or Seattle, there would've been some optimism from the residents. Some hope that our leadership would have a plan, and step up to the plate. Down here in New Orleans the overwhelming consensus was "We are f*cked" No optimism, no hope. Like a helpless cellmate when the lights go off just waiting to be violently rolled over. The Gulf Coast knows first hand what inaction useless leadership is capable of.About a year ago in New Jersey, I thought I would give editorial cartooning another try. The atmosphere was right. Heated and passionate debate over the direction of our leadership. I had become jaded and discouraged by the political process for the past few decades. I despised Bush and the Patriot Act, despised the knee jerk liberals for undermining our nation's well being.
To listen to Americans debate GOP over Dems is like listening to two fat people argue over whether Burger King is healthier than McDonalds. Two WWF fans debate what pro wrestler should win the match. I lean politically to the opposite direction of whoever is in power. They divide and manipulate, the two sides are nothing more than two buddies playing the good cop / bad cop routine on us. We fight amongst ourselves while they go on playing games behind closed doors.
A buddy of mine received a UPS package with a small grill he had earned by smoking cigarettes. While unpacking it, he pulled out a long strip of large bubble packing. With out missing a beat he said "Hey, we can use this for an oil boom around the yard."
