Break a Leg

We signed a contract with someone.

Maybe it's a network.

Maybe.

It won't make us famous.

Probably not.

But, we signed a contract.

And we're waiting for them to sign it and send it back.

So, good news!

Read my personal take on it: http://www.yuribaranovsky.com

Hey, guys!

So, we have a big deal coming up and we need 3-4 (or hey, more!) intern-esque people to help us. Basically, what we need is to create "continuity scripts" for 60 videos (30 conversations, 30 episodes). It's fairly easy but time consuming and we need it REALLY quick (like, next week quick).

Here's my offer to anyone who is interested:

If you're a filmmaking student, this can go right on your resume. This is a big deal with an actual network that you'd be doing some work on and this could be a work-study kind of thing for credits. If you do a good job, we'll vouch for you and I will personally act as your reference for any film-related jobs you'd apply for in the future.

We can't, unfortunately, pay. But, like I said -- you'll get the experience, you'll learn how to do continuity scripts and if your school allows, you can use it for credit.

Please let me know ASAP if you're interested -- email me at: yuri@breakaleg.tv

Thanks, guys!

-Yuri

Throughout my life behind the wheel, I have never owned a car that was less than ten years old.  There was the '79 something-or-other (I can't remember what it was but it would have been a classic muscle car if it wasn't a piece of shit); the '80 Volvo that I drove into the ground; the '93 Saturn that cracked it's engine block on my way over a mountain; the '92 Civic that got broken into so many times that I actually lost almost as much as the car was worth; and most recently: the '92 Mazda 626 that was like wrestling a bear anytime I wanted to go anywhere.  The thing would actually die if I came to a full stop.

Well, I have had enough.  So, I did some research.  I asked around.  I checked on sites like vehix.com and autotrader.com.  Finally, I decided on the car I wanted: a 2007 Toyota Corolla Sport...burgundy, sun roof optional.  I then spent several months actually trying to track one down.  I found one once at a dealer in Petaluma, but when the salesperson handed me the key and I went to turn it on nothing happened.  They were still working on the car when I left 15 minutes later.  Or the time that I found one at a dealership and immediately emailed them to see if the car was still there.  I quickly got a response that it was.  Of course, when I showed up after having driven 45 minutes in crappy traffic and some light gang violence, the car was, in point of fact, absolutely NOT there.  Then, what with practically working two jobs and having hardly any time off, my search kinda got put on the back burner.

Then this past Sunday, having very little to do until that afternoon, I decided that it was time.  I was going to go get my car.  I logged on to the website of the local Toyota dealer, did a quick search, and lo and behold: there was my car - sunroof included.  I quickly showered and got dressed, and then walked the 6 or so blocks to the dealer.  Yes, walked, so sure was I that I would not need to walk back.  I got to the lot.  There was my car.  I walked into the sales office, grabbed the first sales clerk I could lay hold of, and said "Sell me that car or I'll make you wish you had." 

Ok, it wasn't quite like that, but it would have been a lot cooler if it was.

I took the car out for a quick test drive, gave it the obligatory once-over, and said "Ok, let's do it."

It turns out I didhave to walk back home because I had to get a recent bill and a paycheck stub for the financial purposes of securing a loan.  And then walk back to the lot and got my new car.

I don't know if you can appreciate what having a new car (yeah, I'd say 2 years old is pretty new) is like after over a decade of driving crappy cars.  It's liberating.  The car goes fast.  And it does it quickly, if you know what I mean.  The thing handles like a dolphin through water.  And it's such a smooth ride.  The other night driving home, and I was going 90 without even noticing.  And it has a sunroof!  Not only does it go fast, but it feels like it wants to go fast.  For the first time in my life I actually enjoy driving my car, and its a wonderful feeling.

Happy Jenday and Happy Driving!

First off, let me apologize for not posting in a couple weeks.  My boss doesn't like me doing this at work, and I haven't really had time any time else, what with work and rehearsal and stuff.  Blah blah blah, apologies aside...

The Marin County Fair, July 2-5: 4 Fun-filled days of overpriced goods, long lines for nauseating rides, carnies, and food guaranteed to cause the runs as soon as you stick your fork in.  All that and I got in for free to boot!  Now, I don't go to the fair every year.  I think most of the reason for this is now that I make enough money to actually afford going to the fair, none of the stuff that in my youth I wanted to spend that money on holds any interest for me.  All the games with giant stuffed animal prizes, all the poorly made, gimmicky toys - like that foam lizard on a wire that looks like you're taking it for a walk - that pink brick of popcorn (which I have never fully understood), all of it: one colossal waste of money.

But hey, sometimes it's fun to blow a little cash.

The 3rd was a friend's birthday who wanted to to the fair with his wife and her parents and nephew.  I also conveniently had the day off from work.  Coincidentally, my shop had made most of the signage for the fair, and they were nice enough to give us some comp tickets.  Now, having an 8-year-old kid with you is an unmitigated excuse to go on all those rides that you are really too old for, but secretly want to go on anyway, like that big slide or the "haunted house" which is about as scary melba toast. But you have to go because you don't know what's in there!

However, I think the real reason I wanted to go was for the fair food.  Corn dogs, chili cheese fries, funnel cake, ice cream floats...a gastrointestinal nightmare and I enjoyed every bite.  Now paying $7 for a 12 ounce beer is pretty much highway robbery, but on a hot sunny day it's almost worth it.  So I only got two.

All told I spent around $40 for about $8 worth of food and drink.  That's why I'm not a big fan of the fair.  But it was fun.  Sometimes it's neat to follow the curiosity of a child around for an afternoon, just to remember what it was like.  And there was a pleasant side effect to the day: while standing in line my friends and I developed plans to put on some guerrilla Shakespeare under the overpass near my house.  We want to call it "Shakespeare in the Park and Ride".  The first production will be 12th Night.  Good times.

Happy Jenday!

Last weekend we had what you might call a bit of a heat wave here in the San Francisco Bay Area. We decided to hit the road on Saturday and drive down to Monterey so my son and his cousin could play at My Museum and Dennis the Menace park. It was pleasant down there but not too hot. No, it was really hot actually, it was terrible.

On Sunday we had to return his cousin to her home in Suisun City (check out the photo attached to the thumb tack on the map; perfectly represents Suisun's beauty and mystique) before we started racking up late fees. Now if you’re not familiar with Suisun City then, well, good for you. On a cold day the place is a balmy 70; the air conditioners need air conditioners, you know what I mean? So a heat wave pretty much threatens to melt the entire city off the face of the earth. Which may not be a bad thing.

So after a ridiculously sweltering day at my mother-in-law’s house we head home, gratefully watching the temperature steadily drop the whole trip home (having a thermometer on your rear-view mirror is worth it just for that alone). By the time we hit SF it’s probably around 70-75, which is just fine, and we hit the surface streets because the freeway is backed up for some reason once we are off the bridge.

Here’s where the fun really begins. How I can live in SF and not know it was the day of the Gay Pride Parade, I’ll never know.

I know what you’re thinking: this is a story about how we hit traffic and took forever getting home. Or how there were streets closed everywhere and people going wild and we took forever getting home. Or how our car wound up in the Gay Pride Parade all Griswold-family style and I held a gun to a security guard to take us on all the rides. No, this is not that story.

This is a story about how… well, look. We really didn’t see the dog. We just didn’t, it was like the dog just wasn’t even there.

Now before you freak out on me let me jump to the punch-line and say that Bodhi is fine. We actually, seriously, probably saved that elderly dog’s life by slightly grazing his hind leg and removing a cancerous growth from his body.

His owner was crossing an intersection and didn’t have a hold of his leash, so we just didn’t see the dog there. The car tire grazed (literally, just grazed, did not roll over) his paw, so we stopped and I headed back to see what happened. Sina heard some kind of thump, which in itself was probably mortifying, but we realized later that the dog must have physically bumped himself into the car while trying to escape what he thought was certain death.

Now at this point I didn’t know what we had done to this dog, so I had no idea what to expect. Although it was a throng of Gay Pride Parade-goers that I was wading into, it was still a throng. I didn’t know if they’d start beating me or what, I mean for all I know we just ran over a dog.

The dog was walking, not even actually limping, which is of course a good sign. He was bleeding though, so Sina came back around so we could load him up in the ol’ family Vue. Several bystanders helped with either moral or physical support, including the two chicks who were wearing nothing but body paint and pasties. They were more along the lines of moral support I suppose. Well one of them was, the other one almost kind of negated the first one’s contribution to the scenery. Ouch.

We spent hours at the vet, and it was determined that Bodhi had a cyst or tumor of some sort that had been torn almost clean by our vehicular surgery, so they fully removed it, sent it off for biopsy, and stitch him right up. Jeff, the dog’s owner, was pleasant and grateful for our help. So grateful that I doubted from time to time if he realized that we had been ½ responsible for all of this, but I didn’t press the issue.

The whole ordeal was quite exciting for almost-four Ronin, who made up a new game around it. It goes something like this:

Drew gets out of the car before it pulls into the garage.

Ronin: Daddy’s going to get his foot run over!

Mommy: What?

Ronin: (gasp) What’s that thump?

And there you have it, our lovely Gay Pride Weekend story. Don’t run over dogs kids, don't even come close, it ain’t fun.