The Magic of Television

I am a child of television.

TV was my older sibling, my babysitter, my teacher, and once we got cable...my lover.

For as long as I can remember I have not only been in love with television and movies but have been fascinated by how they are made. Some people go through their whole lives not knowing what they want to do. I may not have known exactly what I wanted to do, but I knew where I wanted to do it.

Who made the A-Team's van flip? How did the incredible Hulk turn green? What made the Greatest American hero fly?

Now I know.

Losers like me stuck in little edit rooms. The dream is over.

Friends and family have been wondering where I have been for the last few weeks (and for those haven't...f**k you, thanks for caring...). I would love to say I am working magic, creating finely tuned moments of cinematic history that will touch both the heart and the soul...

Let me paint you a more accurate picture:

Santa Monica, California. Sun, sand, beaches...and several rows of "U-Store It" places. The kind Clarice Starling found that head in. Someone, for some reason, turned one these little glorified garages into an edit facility. I use the term "facility" loosely because technically it is two rooms...and a wall that opens so you could park your car.

I have spent the last three weeks in a 10x10 room: 1 computer console, a rack of tape machines, a couch and a folding snack table. Ah, show business.

We haven't slept. We have been living on diet soda and so much trans fat that if I squeeze my thighs together tightly, Crisco seeps out. The garbage hasn't been emptied in days and the same freakin' Bob Marley DVD has been playing out in the hallway for so long I swear I am getting a contact high.

So the next time you think of Hollywood as the land of dreams, where the magic happens, where movies are born...cut yourself a slice of reality and remember me.

And for Christ sakes, will someone please swing by and bring me a toothbrush and a hand towel?