Catch Up

The title says it all... I have been playing catch-up with my sleep from the second I arrived, catch-up with the crew who have been here longer and are more prepared, catch-up with hundreds of new faces and names... and it's not going to stop. So... in this post I am going to condense three days into one because they all center around one thing - catching up...

Friday morning we had a bit of down time while we waited for the lighting gear to be driven in from Marakesh (a place I plan to visit before I leave). During said period I started to work on a prototype handheld platform that we are going to use for the chariot scene. It took me most of the morning. After we finished lunch, we unloaded the truck and started to light a hair, makeup, wardrobe test (see the - if I squint photo on Flickr - it is from the test)... now generally these sort of tests begin in the morning, but the production was waiting on the gear so we were forced to start work in the afternoon... everyone thought that we'd be done by 7:PM... all I could was shake my head and smile - the test started at 2:PM, there was no way we were getting out before 9:PM... none, zero, zilch. The test wraps up around 11:PM (and I started at 8:AM)... and this is only pre-production. The good lord Jesus just keeps on weeping. I do manage to spend a few minutes Skyping with my baby, but unfortunatly it's in the lobby, surrounded by everyone else, which means I'm not getting any... "Oh Billy" action... dammit all to hell. I vow to sort out this 3G connection the next day and, exhausted I pass out around midnight, comfortable in the knowledge that at least my call is 9:AM and I won't have to move until 8:AM...

Cut to -

6:30AM - my next door neighbour makes a hell of a racket leaving her room (later I find out it's Hana the hair-department assistant... photo to follow). It's not her fault, all the doors have a thick rubber lining that scrapes across the ground when being opened or closed. The reason why? Snakes and scorpions. Who knows what creepy crawlies would find their way in if said barrier wasn't in place. And they're fucking loud - the doors that is. So after being jarred awake I can't get back to sleep. Down for an early breakfast I go, where I spend a couple of crazy hours trying to get online... not having high-speed internet is fucking killing me... anyhow, Randy and I head back to the studio to clean up the mess from the night before so that we can pack up and go to our first location, where we are to unload and pre-light the set. Needless to say the day all-but burns everyone out. We pack it up around 6:PM, horrified by the knowledge that we didn't finish and therefore will have to come back on our day off for a seventh day of work. And then beyond that is our first day of shooting, which means from me stepping on the plane to, hopefully a bit of R&R, there will be 14 days straight work... this is definitely shaping up to be a ball-buster... but it's Ben Hur right? How many years was he locked away on that galley? I'm just here for 8 weeks... I can do this:)) One of the highlights of this day is the end. For the first time I get back to the hotel with a bit of light still in the sky and I'm in my swimsuit before you can say boo... and I'm diving into the pool a moment later. The water washes away all my exhaustion. I am reminded of my time in Rio on THE INCREDIBLE HULK. The locals there had a bit of a ritual, called God's Moment. It was when they stripped down and fell into the ocean after the end of a long day in the sun. It was meant to reconnect them to their spirituality... I know I'm taking a dip in chlorine, but I can't help but relax and unwind. Then as I'm getting out, the sound recordist Michelle wanders by... he's on his laptop having a wireless conversation with a loved one... and is streaming some serious real-time images because he went to the store that sells the 3G transmitors... I almost forgot! He offers to call and reserve one for me because appearantly they are going fast. We get the store manage on the phone, only to find ou that there's one left and it's already on hold. Fuck it I say and trot away with a grateful thank-you... 5 minutes later I'm in front of the owner negoitiating a higher price to buy his last bit of gear. It should have cost 700 Dirams total... I pay 1000 (which is a hundred Euros). This doesn't bother me one bit because I haven't spent a dime of my per diem yet. When I arrived I was given 350 Euros for the week so I am definitely still ahead of the game. I head back to the hotel and actually am able to have a conversation online with Alissa that doesn't cut out every minute... thank God my tech cravings have been solved. My junk is in and it is awesome:)) From there I wander down to the hotel pool again (around 9:PM) for a little party on production. A standard bon voyage sort of deal where everyone is all smiles, all upbeat, and all raring to go... again all I can do is smile to myself for only on Monday (our first day of actual shooting) will all be revealed, including true character - for all concerned:)) I head back to my room around 1:AM, after allowing myself 4 glasses of white wine and a ton of water... my head hits the pillow. The final thought through my brain is - no worries tomorrow I can sleep in until 9:AM because we start at 10:AM...

Guess what I forgot?

6:30AM - my neighbours door grinds open. And I'm up. Looking at the damn earplugs I pulled out and forgot to insert because of the wine... I feel as if I've been gently fucked with a chainsaw... I take an extra-long shower and slowly make my way down to the dining room where I eat and surf and drink way too many coffees. then it's off to light while ninety percent of the crew has a day off... it's pretty much hazy from there on in. Fortunately we are done by 4:PM. The highlight of the day was lunch. The local guys took us to a BBQ joint where we feasted like kings. There were about a dozen of us. The total bill? Including tip? 300 Dirams... you do the math... the boys beat me to the bill, which kind of pissed me off (thanks to the Ukrainian blood) but I am too spent to argue. After we wrap for the day I again hit the pool, take a shower, order some room service for dinner and sit down to watch last weeks episode of LOST online. And you know what? There wasn't a single glitch! AWESOME:)) After that I decide to work on this blog before it completely gets away from me. I immediately start having problems trying to upload photos... WTF is up with that? Anyhow I am done rambling... and more importantly have caught up to the immediate present. It's now 9:PM my time and I have to be on set at 5:AM tomorrow, which means my wake-up call is 4:AM... yes you read it right - me thinks that chainsaw is starting to hurt... I'm going to spend a few more minutes trying to upload photos and then it's lights out.

Tom out.

PS - Am uploading this now but again - I will edit it tomorrow:))

PPS - Got some images up so check'em out...

Uh-Oh...

Quick note before I get into todays diatrab, which more and more people are saying is running on at the mouth (check out Rob Campbell's comment from yesterday - and then there's my brother Jeremy who works 15 hours a day and only wants the headlines:)) - fuck it... this is my blog I'll proceed how I wish. No there will not be 3-line paragraphs - no there will not be headings to photos )okay maybe ther will:)) - and I don't think I will be loading anything into my Flickr account until I am finished shooting... that said -

I forgot to mention how the salt & pepper shakers I took from the Air Morocco plane saved me. The salad that Bethan gave me after we finished the meeting yeswterday, and the one that I ate in my room, was a simple tomatoe, boccoccini cheese, olive oil deal. That was it. The tomatoes were barely ripe and the cheese was super tough. As I forced myself to eat it (simply for nourishment) I considered calling down to the front desk for some salt to be sent up. But jesus that would take a lifetime to get here... and then BING! The lightbulb went off and I removed the Air Morocco salt shaker from its resting place in the safe. Sometimes it really does pay to steal... lol! And my kid brother Adam wants me to become a cop with him - I will never get past the lie-detector test. Never:))

Anyhow - down for breakfast and off to the studio where the day really begins ... Aziz and I run around town, which is a total trip... it's a maze of hole-in-the-wall shops (there ain't no Home Depot here:)) While we are out-and-about a couple of things happen. First my little Arabic phrase book and the ability to communicate in French gain me immediate respect. Hello is Salem, you shake hands (always the right - the left is to wipe your ass), and touch your heart (a sign of connection to God)... why do these things gain me respect? When the Americans roll into town they treat the locals like slaves whom the abuse both verbally for having little to no english, and physically - all labor here is on a daily flat, of 150 Dirham, which is the equivelent of 15 Euros, which is the equivelant of... 23 Canadian dollars a day. Jesus... can you wrap yor head around what I just said? Unlimited hours? 23 dollars? And they get treated like shit? Of course some respect, humor, and an attempt to understand and communicate will get one the world... and that's when the second thing falls into place. See if you can guess where I'm going? I ask Aziz how busy Ouarzazate is each year (in regards to big American/European productions)? Guaranteed 7 months of work he says... the wheels start to spin faster... all the gear has to come from Germany... when productions roll into town they have to adapt to the local situation... so -

I approach a film rental house back home... fill three shipping containers full of world-class lighing gear... get it over here (I find out later that the Moroccan Film Commision PAYS 35% of the value of any goods shipped into the country to be used for making movies - so I buy used and show new pricelists)... and setup shop with a half dozen local guys whom I trust - which wouldn't be a problem because those that have work, work hard, and they will really give it their all if they are being taught a usable skill (something no one does when they come over to shoot) - then in 10 years, after making a fortune I sell it to my boys and retire to the Mediternean... OMG! I don't know if it's the exhaustion or not, but I think ther might be something to this... remember how I said it was very much like the wild west? And how one of my favourite shows was DEADWOOD? Well one of my favourite characters of all time was on that show - his name was Al Swearengen. He basically rolled into town when it was only a camp and took over everything - the ultimate Capitalist... goods and service... and this place runs on both, as well as cash and Bagi-Bagi (bribes:))

Okay all dreams aside, reality comes crashing back in on the return trip to the studio... I let my wiped-out state-o-mind get the better of me and thus made a fool of myself in front of about 20 strangers who must now comsider me a complete asshole... time to eat some serious crow. The moment we arrive I head back into the office to find Carmen, she's on walkabout checking in on things so I head out to find her. And there she is, alone, smoking, and walking toward me in the parking lot... she doesn't want to talk, of course, but I immediately start in with the apologies... I explain the 40 hours awake, the lack of sleep since arriving, not understanding local customs, what production needs me to do, that I'm a people person, team-player, want to help... so what can she do to help me help her (another great film line - what's the movie guys?:)) this last bit gets her and her hands quiver as she wipes tears from her eyes... and like that everything is okay between the two of us... she thanks me... I let Randy know and then go apologize to the producer I haven't met. Her name is Martell. As I am explaining the situation she stops me to ask my sign... I immediately relax... my response of Cancer makes her smile... by some act of God (not really) her husband is a Cancer. And she immediately understands me - so all is good again. Happy, smiley Tom will play for the rest of the show - I hope:))

The rest of the day is spent running around trying to meet requests by Randy, the camera guys, and Carmen. As well - I start to shoot anything and everything as promised, so here we go with the photos (FINALLY, I know...)

I can't figure out how to set captions beneath the photos Rob... From the top left, the characters are - Randy, Mark, Bethan, and Buck... AND -

Sorry guys something seems to be happening with my damn internet each time I try to upload to BLOGGER... perhaps I am going to have to try and create an early Moroccan file on my Flickr account afterall, which you can follow access from my blog... will update as I know more... Okay I think I'm done with this post. The day ended with myself, Robert, Nicholas (the First Camera Assistant), Roc (the second Camera Assistant), and Ossi going across the street for dinner to the French restaurant. It was quite nice. Still haven't had a drink and/or any pasta or bread so why not go hang out at a French place - lol:)) Was hard to avoid the bread when it hit the table and the boys got a bottle of wine - I didn't cave though, only god (Allah) knows how:))

I was back in my room for a quick Skype with Alissa, which was crap because the connection sucked - we could only talk and not see each other. Today, Mark suggested there was a place around the corner to get a 3G wirless antena that was fast enough one could stream porn... lol only a guy looks at the internet like that:)) I must investigate further or this blogging thing might crash to a halt - I mean who wants words without any pretty pictures right Rob? :))

Tom out.

PS - For all those who are following my blog under a jumble of letters and numbers, identify yourselves immediately or be blocked... if I don't know you, then send me a message as to how you found this blog, and why you're following it... the deadline for expulsion from the gang is Monday night (Moroccan time) - so get on with it:))

FOLLOWING MORNING NOTE - I will be uploading photos to my Flickr account - ti's easier so check out the daily pics there. The posts from here on out will simply be print & links:))

The Meeting

This post could potentially be the shortest in my whole blog. The wake-up call startled me out of bed again. Today I decide I don't have the energy for a full shower so I use the bidet. God I love the Europeans - wash the pits / the crotch / face / and feet... then off you go. Of course I brushed my teeth as well. Today is all about the standard pre-production meeting where all the departments get together and go over everything in the script. Usually a dolly grip doesn't attend. So when I arrive I notice that there is a second row of seats around the table, and behind that couches line the wall, with plugs in the wall... where do you think I sat? :)) I then spent the whole 6-hour meeting writing the biblical second post - SO YOU THINK YOU CAN FLY? I listened in for anything involving cranes and dollies, but was never asked a single question. Funnily enough I wrapped it up as the same time as the meeting. Then we ate lunch, again on production, through the hotel. I had some kind of smoked fish fillet and a salad. After lunch we had the chariot race meeting. It seems that when we shoot this scene over the course of a week-and-a-half (NOTE: It took five months for them to do the 1959 version) I will be operating the crane off a platform that is mounted to some kind of 4-wheel device that is designed to chase the chariots around the track. Now that sounds too-fucking-cool-for-school... I can't wait for the shooting of this scene. After the meeting, Randy releases me so I head back to the hotel with Bethan. She grabbed a couple of salads that the hotel was going to throw out after lunch and offers me one when I ask... dinner served in my room - on the house. Save save save... every last penny I can get my hands on. I don't get the opportunity to Skype with Alissa (she was at work on some shoot in Hamilton), but somehow manage to stay away again until close to midnight, surfing the net, answering emails, tweaking the blog... when I realize how late it is I order my wake-up call and pass out. Wait a second - I didn't go straight back to my room. Today I met a cool kid from Montreal. Does SPFX. His name is Mark. He is a world traveller, has worked on films just about everywhere you can imagine. I went to his room for a bit to shoot the shit. Man, some of the stories he has... will update that later when I have his photo:))

Tom out.

PS - Told you it would be short. Still didn't manage to capture a single photo. Tomorrow I plan to start shooting in earnest.

Here's a couple I missed. Me in the plane. And me snapping my funky, over-sized aviator shades that were purchased for just this trip.

The Beginning?

A siren pierces my state of blackness. I leap out of bed positive that I just closed my eyes, and snatch the phone clean off the table. “Bonjour, c’est six –, “ I cut off the quiet voice, “Merci,” and hang up. And so Day 1 began...

From there it got surreal. I thought I’d given myself enough time to shit, shower, and shave. I mean an hour, right? Okay I almost fall asleep under the warm, pulsing water (great pressure, thank god), so add an extra ten… I’m still ready to leave the room at 6:30AM – it’s a two-minute walk to breakfast… anything I want, ready, and free. Production has the hotel put out a full meal every morning. I load the safe right up with everything I’m not carrying in my backpack and close the door. The lock is jammed open and doesn’t work… so I call the front desk. “Someone will be right there, monsieur.” My shoulders drop. 10 minutes later there is a knock on the door. You see the hotel is one level and there are over 500 rooms… one must navigate a maze to get around. There are literally blocks of rooms – so no elevator. And did I mention the 20 foot wall that runs completely around the place? We are actually living in a compound. http://www.ouarzazate.com/leberberepalace/ Sort of says it all doesn’t? We’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy… oh man I have definitely arrived in the modern day wild west. This could get fabulously interesting. Real fast. I digress... I digress, yet again? Sounds like this blog already has a catch phrase. Sorry, it’s sensory overload here – there I go again. A maid shows up and checks the safe. She can’t get it to work either. A call goes out over her walkie-talkie. "Fuck!" is all I’m thinking, smiles are all I’m drinking. Another ten minutes and the maintenance guy shows up… without batteries. So off he goes. By the time we’re finished re-booting the system, and my help is out the door, I’m trotting for the front entrance. At five minutes past eight I step outside. Late for my first day of work... nice:)) There’s a sea of jeeps and pickup trucks. And probably about 50 crew members milling about - and I don’t know anyone, except... wait a second, hold on... there some guy out front that looks vaguely familiar. So I amble up and ask him if he's ever worked in Toronto. He says, "Pardon?" And gives me a look like who are you? I drop my name and he breaks into a smile. His name is Robert Stecko, the B-Camera Operator (I am missing his picture - will post it in when I get it) and he has been in Toronto. He briefly stopped by to visit Francois on the set of SILENT HILL, a film we shot back in 2003. I tell ya - I never forget a face:)) So anyway he introduces me to Randy Tambling (again no photo yet - hell I don't have any of them yet), Ousama Rawi (Ossi - the D.O.P.), and finally, the second A.D., Bethan Mowat. Randy comments on how fresh I look and then asks how that's possible with a sly smile. Everyone knows when I arrived and just how fucked up I am:)) I thank my parents good genes, and with that Randy and Robert and I get in a pickup being driven by one of the locals and we're off.

Now I need everyone to understand that at this point I am so out of it I don't have a chance to absorb any of my surrounding, which in itself is a complete mind-trip because I'm in FUCKING MOROCCO:)) That said we drive about 5 minutes out of town and then all of a sudden I find myself in the most bizarre landscape. There are literally a dozen "sets" from different movies littered across the most beautiful desert landscape. Of course I don't have any shots of the area yet, but I did managae to snap two photos of the desert, and that was only because I swore that I recognized an actual backdrop from STAR WARS and I was certain that I had slipped into the film and Luke was going to come zipping over the horizon , desperately searching for R2-D2:)) NOTE - one can actually see the walls of Jerusalem in the background of the second photo (just click on it and zoom in)

Anyhow once we arrive, the First A.D. immediately introduces himself - his name is Buck. His engaging, easy-going attitude suggests to me that's he's out of L.A. - in fact as we tour the area of what is to be the walls of Jerusalem, and the road that Jesus will meet Ben Hur on, and the hill where his cross will be planted, Buck talks to me about my time on THE INCREDIBLE HULK (oviously he's IMDB'd me - http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0136776/ - wait a second that credit isn't up there, how the hell does this guy know? Oh well, long story longer, I assume he's American. But still a nice guy. Carmen, the Production Manager introduces herself as well. More on that later. Oh I almost forgot Steve Shill, the Director (who I didn't know it then, but do now - has directed episodes of my favourite TV show... DEADWOOD). Seems like a solid guy, knows his shit, practical... in otherwords a pro - thank God:) Director's that don't understand the process (and believe me there are way too many out there to count) are an absolute nightmare when it comes to a show of this magnitude...

Anyway - the questions start coming... track here going to be a problem? To level it properly, one end would be nearly 6 feet off the ground. Not a problem. Can we get the crane in here? Sure, absolutely. Two dollies here? All the track you have over here? Yes and yes. My head starts to spin... I mean, Christ Almighty... is all this a dream or did I really just see C3-P0 out of the corner of my eye? And wait a second? Isn't that a section of Rome from THE GLADIATOR - one of the best film lines ever... "What we do in life echoes into eternity" Here those words could not be more obvious. I mean it's massive set piece after massive set piece - all left behind as some big Hollywood production blows out of town on the way home. Okay we get through the first location and then head of to OSCAR STUDIO, which when we arrive I notice has an actual hotel built into the place (it's a hotspot for Moroccan Travellers because of the tours they offer - kind of like Universal:)) Weird but true. I can't seem to find a link to the place and have no photos yet, but don't worry I will shoot everything. I almost fall over when we make our way past the training courtyard from THE GLADIATOR. And then we walk into a fair-sized studio to discuss a rather important set-piece. This is where we are going to shoot the galley sequence. For those that haven't seen the 1959 version of Ben Hur, get on it - http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0052618/. Anyhow, their is a good-sized water tank but my mind can't wrap my head around it... until we start talking about the C.G. effects (character generated). Of course... this is definitely not 1959. I can't wait to see how our animators increase the scope and scale of this story. It is going to be huge! Did I mention I'm in Morocco shooting BEN HUR?! Okay so we run around and look at a few more sets and for some reason nothing sticks, except the remaining two photos I took on said day. The play of light and shadow captivated my attention... probably had something to do with my descent into a state of mad-exhaustion... the light here is stunning. And I am already in love with the dry heat. Can anyone wrap their head around the concept of your sweat nearly evaporating off your body? No 100 percent humidity? God I hate Toronto summers. I mean I really really hate them:)

I digress... so we break for lunch at 1:PM... and the food that we order hits the table around 2:PM... lol, by this point I wondered if I would ever eat again. I have an excellent lamb stew... heaven:)) and I ask for a diet coke and get a regular because that's all they have. So I drink it because I'm parched and ready to sleep. The caffeine kicks in rather nicely. The sugar makes me smile. Damn, I have such an addictive personality. It's okay though, this is my first meal in close to 18 hours, one coke won't kill me... My lunch mates are Robert, Ossi, and Randy. The standard meet and greet. Everyone seems solid. Ossi is the quiet, calm type, which is another blessing. Randy is down-to-earth, and Robert... well Robert is all camera - professional, focused, and passionate about the process. We're going to get along just fine... the whole lot of us:)) After lunch production asks me to hang around until 4:PM to sit in on a meeting that cracks my state of reality wide open - everyone is set to discuss the iconic final chariot race! have to pinch myself under the table... am I really here?

So there I am... just under 2 hours on my hands, a hotel pool to lounge beside (part of the Oscar experience), and a warm, desert breeze to keep me company. The only thing that would make it better is if my girl was here... so I open the computer, turn on the Skype and there she is - half way around the world. Just stop and think about that for a second. I am a child of the 70's... if you're old enough, think about where you were? Rotary phones, rabbit ears, 8-track, yada yada yada... and today, with the press of a button, I am able to video link, WIRELESSLY, to anyone, anywhere on th planet... mindboggling. Alissa and I spend, I don't know how much time, catching up and then Bethan strides purposefully up to me to let me know the meeting is cancelled and I can head back to hotel. I think the air around my body collapsed into the vacuum created by my teleportation into the back seat of a waiting transport vehicle. Before I can escape the backlot, Randy sees me and before I can say boo, I find myself going over a list of the things he needs me to do over the rest of the week. So I go from Dolly Grip to Best Boy without even realizing it was happening. That's okay though - we are out of town, have to stick together, and most definitely work as a team. Happy to do it, I mean what the hell else am here for? The life of a nomadic grip... quelle jolie vie:))

Around 6:PM I find myself back in the same transport vehicle and finally on the way to the hotel. During the short ride, I become aware of a beautiful oasis that will have to be photographed at a later date. I see Robert in the lobby and make plans to meet him for dinner across the street at one of Ouarzate's, scratch that, Ouarzazate's only French restaurant. Then somehow I'm back in my room, where I shower, again Skype with Alissa, and then completely miss dinner because my legs aren't moving (which means I only got 1 meal today - not good for someone trying to get healthy and lose weight), and pass out at 11:PM... how the hell did I manage to stay up so late? Anyhow the lights go out and the blackness tackles me again. I pass out before my head slams into the pillow. Est ca c'est tous pour ce soir... not sure how my French is coming but it will get better...

Tom out.

PS - I think I shortened this one, no? And I promise to start taking pictures. All words and no images can get boring pretty quick - especially with a blowhard behind the wheel:))

PPS - Should anyone read this before I get to my edit & polish tomorrow, I apologise for the spelling & grammatcial errors. Generally when I finish these things I am just too tired to review and simly want to prematurely unleash the latest chapter:)) Like all writer's I suppose...

So You Think You Can Fly?

What's the longest that anyone has stayed up? For me it was 5 days straight - working on my own film project back in '95 (a BRAVOfact video called NOMAD). Of course it was chemically induced (Dexie's, or Santa's Little Helpers as we liked to call them - how else could that jolly, little fucker get everything he needed done in one night:)) Then there was my first day in film ever... that was 72 hours, at the end of which, just before I passed out while shooting my first night exterior, I thought, "damn this is a cool gig, I have to get into making movies." I was 16 and crazy of course. Since then I have managed to train myself to stay up around the clock on too many occaisons to count... so when I woke up Sunday morning around 7:AM (have always been a morning person) I decided that I wasn't going to sleep until I arrived in OUARZAZATE (my final destination in Morocco - check it out at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ouarzazate). I love that it is the northern starting point for those interested in entering the vast expanse of the Sahara. I have to, scratch that... I must - take a trip out there at some point during shooting.

Anyhow - I got up at Sunday morning and the day flew by until it was 7:PM. My mother showed up to drive me to the airport. She's an avid golfer (a sport she only recently got into after I took her out for her first round about 2 years ago), Which meant the big topic of discussion on our way to the airport? How I was going to miss our annual Mother's Day outting... seriously:)) I figured it would have been how amazing it was that I was going to make a movie in the same area that her favorite film was shot - Lawrence Of Arabia. I bet she brings it up in future emails once she checks out the Wiki link... So we get to the airport around 7:30PM, some two-and-a-half hours before I am supposed to fly out. God I hate airports. Ever time I fly out of Toronto I say I'm going t show up an hour before the flight and then I never do. After the requisite hugs and kisses, my mother leaves me with one final thought - am I worried about flying? I laugh at her projection - she can't imagine flying, and in fact refuses to, along with my younger brother Pete. Flying doesn't bother me one bit, but I can't stand how long it takes to travel from point A to point B in the world. I've been to Rio (that was 13 ours away), and Hong Kong (19 hous away) so I know how sucky it can be. I've never flown first class, always coach so it is impossible to sleep - at least for me. And the food sucks. And without fail, if you are not travelling with a loved-one, the passenger beside you becomes the most annoying individual you have ever met. Right? Am I wrong?

So I step through the doors of Terminal 1 at Toronto's Pearson Airport and immediately spy the express check-in screens running the length of counter that is being swarmed by a massive line of travellers waiting to get their tickets. Obvious choice right? Wrong. I try to check in using the express computers and am told that I have made an error and can't print out my ticket. So I ask the Air Canada Rep designated to assist with any problems in this area what I'm doing wrong. It takes her 5 attempts and 3 seperate computers (she assumes there's something wrong with the machines because they work in a spotty fashion) before she realize that I am in the wrong area. I'm at the cross-Canada gate, not the international... which means walking all the way down to the other end of the terminal. I thank her, all toothy and kind, then make my way east to the end-of-the-line, where I try to express-check-in again, repeatedly. It doesn't work. Not one, but three seperate Air canada assisstants later, I am told that because I am transfering airlines in Frankfurt that I need to line up. And of course by this time said quew is around the corner and out the door. Nice... idiots. God I hate Air Canada. So now the reason for showing up early is appearant - no one knows how to do their job, and if they do they just don't give a damn. So I wait. And wait. And wait some more. then when I get tothe counter I am informed that my bag is 9 pounds to heavy and that it needs to be split into two. Either that or it's a 100.00 dollar charge. Out comes the toothy grin again. It's either that or sarcasm. As I don't have a second bag with me and I'm not leaving the line to buy one, I take the offered cardboard box and fill it with clothes that I am absolutely sure I will never see again. In all my travels I have never lost any luggage so I am sure that this will be the time when I break said cherry. Murphy's Law all but demands it, no?

After waiting for over an hour to board, in an international airport that doesn't offer plugs so travellers can turn their computers on without draining precious battery time (but hey free wifi is coming soon!), during which time all I could do is watch, over and over again, how some swine flu out of Mexico is quickly becoming a pandemic plague. Wouldn't it be wonderful if I got trapped in Morocco when the end-of-the-world finally happens? LOL:)) Well at least everyone over there speaks French (something I am looking forward to brushing up on - I haven't had the chance to use my bilingual skills since attending Toronto French School as a child)...

Onto the flight. We board. I couldn't upgrade my seat to a bulkhead like I normally do becaue smart travellers had already beat me to the punch. But I did get a window seat. And would only have one person to climb over when I needed to stretch my legs:)) Upon sitting, I immediately realized I had won the wrong lottery yet again. the person sitting beside me? An incredibly tiny, ancient Jewish grand-mother. Salvation lay across the aile though. Her travelling partner, cut from the same mold, jumped at the chance to switch seats. So I gave up the window but made everyone's life easier. work together as individuals to enhance the experience of the greater whole is the only way to roll. And the young couple sitting beside me in the 3-seat center section were too wrapped up in being nervous about their first flight to bother me:))

So the flight leaves on time. Perfect. And their are plugs in the back of each seat. Doubly perfect. Out comes the laptop. In go the earplugs. On comes some exceptional music from the Hotels Costes Series - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H%C3%B4tel_Costes - which, if you don't own any, you must immediately get. There are over 10 CD'S of music and each track is solid. Then I open my homework. Presently I'm working on writing a screenplay for a D.O.P. from L.A. who is a great friend of mine. His name is David Armstrong. His claim to fame? He has been responsible for the visual look of every movie in the SAW FRANCHISE. And presently he is transitioning from lighting to directing. I was actually supposed to fly to L.A. for the first time in a couple of weeks to work alngside him on the story. Guess that won't be happening until July:)) The project I am developing for him is based on an actual event that happened to a friend of his. I can't tell you what it's about because a deal has been inked. Suffice it to say - if KISS KISS BANG BANG hooked up with THE BIG LEBOWSKI and PULP FICTION at an orgy, the subsequent offspring would be (orginal drawing by me:)) -

OMG!!! I just spent 3 hours putting together my second blog post and then the internet cacked out… God I hope that BLOGGER does some kind of automatic save because Hemingway had it right. To duplicate original material is impossible… not to mention draining and disheartening. YES! Am back online, material was saved! I love BLOGGER:))

Okay, where were we? Right - I finished my homework while heading for Frankfurt. Got it all done I think. Sent David an email, fingers cross that it's a go on the material and we can take it to the next level... as we crossed the dinner service included microwaved chicken covered in ketchup,mashed potatoes (the only carb I'm eating right now - as I am on a weight loss, exercise regime for the first time in almost 4 years - plan to come back from Morocco lean and mean:)), and lots of white wine... the only vice I am allowing myself these days:)) Which believe it or not, I'm letting go in Morocco - the whole when in Rome thing...

I arrived in Frankfurt at 11:AM their time (7 hours ahead of Toronto) and was stunned by the service. From the doors opening on the plane to me picking up my luggage (both the bag & box made it this far) at the baggage claim, the total time was 2o minutes. Seriously. then I was through customs and making my way up to the AIR MOROCCO counter in another 20 minutes. Unbelievable service. Which only got better when I noticed that the ticket agent at Air Morocco (an effeminate blonde boy) checking me out as I hit his line. I don't know what it is about gay men and me (if I wasn't completely confident in my sexuality then the number of times I've been hit on would have already sent me into therapy a long time ago:)) but I know how to use any situation to my advantage. The toothy grin got wider as I stepped up to him. If first class was available I was getting the upgrade... and wouldn't you know it, as a seat had yet to be assigned to me, he asked me if I had any preferences (sorry big guy, straight all the way), and I responded a bulkhead close to the front of the plane... A few short taps on his keyboard later, I found myself with a glorious seat assignment - ROW 1, on the window:)) God dammit I'm a wanton hussy:)) My only complaint about Franfurt Airport is, again, there are no plugs in to run one's computer... and the reason why? Security... Jesus christ I'm tired of living in a world run by fear...

So - we board Air Morocco on time. I settle back into the lap of luxury. And as I close my weary eyes to rest, a delicate voice asks me in French if I'd like champagne. Insert huge grin here. I say yes in French and so begins my trip south. The plane takes off on time and as we pass over Spain, which is unfortunately covered in big, beautiful, puffy clouds... seriously beautiful but a drag that I don't get to see the Spanish countryside from the air. Spain is also on my list of must see places before I die...

As we are passing over Seville the clouds break and dinner is served. Both magical experiences. First we start off with pate and a delicious carrot, mongo chutney. I pass on the crackers... the food actually reminds me of my best girlfriends home-cooked, meals on wheels service. Her name is Victoria Fodor. Her business is -http://www.victoriaskitchen.ca/ - check it out if you don't already know about it. Yes this is a shameless plug, but hey she's the only sister I have:)) And the food rocks... Back to the first class meal. From the wonderful pate, I move onto a delicious lamb stew (served in an actual ceramic bowl). The meat is a little over done for my taste but I am definitely not complaining as so far it's the best airline food I have ever eaten:)) From there, for desert, I am served the richest goat cheese I have ever had, along with fresh, juicy grapes... simply unbelievable. Of course this all gets washed down with many glasses of white wine:)) Final note about the meal? The real salt & pepper shakers! Mini... too cute... and just begging to be lifted so that I can give them to my Russian Princess upon my return. So I take them:)) I should have shot photos of the meal but was so overwhelmed I forgot - hopefully on the way back... The best part of the trip was crossing at Gibraltar. The sky opened and then I was over Africa. Something I am still trying to wrap my head around...

So we land in Casablanca and I get into the country no problem... a ton of cops wandering around with guns, and the guy who checked me out at the metal detector was a little too free with his groping of my crotch and ass... but besides that I had arrived - almost. Now came the hardest part of the trip. Remember... I got up at 7:AM sunday morning. Upon my arrival in Casablanca I had been awake for 29 hours, and travelling for over 17... and now had a 7 hour lay-over during which time I decided to not leave the airport. Downtown Casablanca is about as far away as the CN TOWER is from Pearson. I had little cash on me, was exhausted, and didn't want my first experience in the jewel of Morocco to be tainted (one day I will get there, perhaps at the end of this job). So I bunkered down and waited... FORTUNATELY, the Moroccan's understand the need for power. There were actual plugs in the wall that I could jack into. I had been saving my computer battery for just this scenario. 6 hours is a long time to hang around with nothing to do... especially when trying to stay awake. During my time there I edited photos, further tweaked my screenplay, and learned how to use the Windows Movie Making. The first thing I did was edit down this little film of me landing in Morocco... which I was going to uopload but after an hour of waiting I think I'll wait for another day:))

11:PM, Moroccan time, Monday night, finally rolls around. We're hearded onto the plane quickly and efficiently. It takes off. A short hour later I've landed in Ouarzazate, am though customs - one guy with a gun and even heavier hands. Then I spot my driver holding up a sign with my name and someone elses... who obviously had problems along the way and didn't make it. But I did, as well as my bag & box. On the short trip to the hotel, during which I saw very little except similar adobeesque buildings all the color of red sand, I rip open my care package. Per Diem check. Quick phrase translations page check. Scheduale for rest of week check. WTF?!!! It's 1:AM in the morning, Moroccan time (8:PM in Toronto)... I've been up for 38 hours, travelling for 26, AND production wants me on a scout that is leaving the hotel at 7:AM... well fuck me gently with a chainsaw:)) sometimes being a freelance film technician absolutely sucks... but I'm never going to complain publically. The toothy grin will just keep getting bigger... I swear it:)) No really baby, I swear that I will keep the ego in check, God help me if it gets bad:))) I check into the hotel, again barely considering anything, am in my room, unpacked, and in bed SKYPING with my lover back in Toronto (thank god for video conferencing - anyone not on Skype - http://www.skype.com - get on it and we can chat for free) before one could say boo... not super impressed with the room (more on that later) but am loving my hard bed. I virtual kiss my baby goodnight (too tired for anything else:)) and shut the lights out at 2:AM (my wake-up call is for 6:AM) and then I don't remember anything. The blackout quite simply just runs me over... which is a great place to stop for now.

Wow... just reviewed this post - it's huge! I promise to keep'em shorter in the future - maybe:))

Tom out. (for now:))

And. Here. We. Go.

Hard to believe, but this time last week I had no idea that I would be in Morocco. In fact I was lost in the wilds of Flint, teaching my latest class of aspiring Michigan Film technicians the finer arts of being an onset grip. And I fully expected to be teaching the same group the finer arts of being on onset electric this week. It's incredibly rewarding work, which has managed to keep my head above the water during the SAG strike and economic holocaust that has all but wiped out the film industry in Toronto. The thing is - the bed I made over 20 years ago, and the one from which I cannot escape without considerable re-education, where I crush three dimensions into two on the filmset factory floor, is that of a Freelance Film Technician - more specifically, a dolly grip. If you don't know, don't ask... Now factory might make it sound monontonous, and tedious, of which it can both, but being a dolly grip is also incredibly addictive, and out-of-the-blue one of my favorite drug pushers called to let me know he could hook me up with some seriously surprising shit.

Francois Daignault is his name. He's one of Montreal's, if not Canada's, top camera operators and if you make friends with him on facebook and check out his "trip map" you would be stunned by just how much he travels to work. And his latest gig? A made-for-television re-telling of one of Charleton Heston's greatest movies - BEN HUR. Jesus wept... how could I say no? So I replaced myself in Michigan, much to the dismay of my students... yes that's a bit of ego talking (as I am an awesome instructor:)) and got my ass back to Toronto last friday night.

Then I spent two harried days getting my shit together and hanging out with my sweet treat of a girlfriend, my Russian Princess (in all the right ways:)) - Alissa Ourakova. Did I mention she's Russian? After a year with her I am stumped as to how her people could be so hot-blooded... I mean most of them were born in snow banks up in Siberia, no? I'll tell you this - the absolute last thing I want to do is go up against a Russian in a fair fight. There's something about being so cut off and insular from the rest of the world, for so many centuries, that has made them terrifying badasses... and insanely passionate in regards to living life. Like no one else on this planet.

Anyhow, I digress... wait, I forgot to mention Alissa's incredibly bizarre, but terrific little dog, Benny LaRue (a teacup Chihuahua crossed with god knows what). He is a serious show-stopper. On the street everyone wants to meet him and invariably asks where they could get such a weird little beasty. I honestly don't know, but I'm glad she went against me and picked him up. The little guy will be my main man for years to come. He's a blessing in disguise, just don't tell my girl:)) We hung together all weekend as well.

Okay back it up and find the track. Two days racing around Toronto, buying anything and everything I could think of that I might need while away in Morocco for 10 weeks (forgot to mention that didn't I? 'Cause I didn't want to make anyone out there jealous... let me say it again - 10 weeks in Morocco, on someone elses dime! Woo-fucking-hoo!:)) Okay, so I get my shit together, go out for one final sushi meal on Sunday, wait a second, no I didn't, God how I wanted to - if I could only eat one meal for the rest of my life (happily of course), it would be sushi. Anyhow the weekend flew by and before I knew it, it was Sunday night at 7:PM and my mother was knocking on the back door of our apartment, ready to drive me to the airport. so after some serious kissing (from both Alissa and Benny) and a little heavy gropping (just my girl you pervs), mixed in with a dash of tears (all hers of course) out the door I went...

Which I think is the perfect place to end this first blog... seeing as I've had 4 hours sleep in the last 60 hours and am fading fast... yes I'm now in Morocco... and yes I'm two days behind on this blog, but hell at least I've started it... and yes it's my first one, so who knows how this is going to turn out:)

Anyhow, now I must sleep, more likely fall into a dreamless blackout, so goodnight all...

Tom out.

PS: A next morning note - just re-read this after prematurely unleashing it last night in my exhaustion... not too bad for a first attempt - a little heavy on the sickly sweet goofiness, but hey it can only get better from here... the next posting should come tonight, it's heading? SO YOU THINK YOU CAN FLY?