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:))