Break a Leg

Editor's Note: If you haven't seen it yet (because I haven't had time to post the blog), what Chad speaks of below is the newest Conversation entitled, "Jen-Avenge" where Jennifer demands justice by challenging David to a duel.

Check it out on YouTube (where we ask you to please, please, please favorite, comment, rate, and subscribe) or right here on our website, under Episodes.

Enjoy and here's the blog:

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Well, as you can see, we've been busy here, at Break a Leg.  Let me tell you what the shooting of the recent conversation Jen-Avenged consisted of:

First, let me re-iterate that I am a whiner and let people know when I feel put-upon.  Now, I usually try to convey that I am kidding when I do this, because I really really am, but I know it doesn't always seem that way.  Anyway...

 It was early Saturday evening when I headed over to the Swambler house to work on the script and the fight choreography for the next day's shoot.  I was planning on spending the night at the house because we were going to get up really early to go shoot.  I pointed out to Yuri that I was giving up gaming with my pirate crew to come do this so he had to get good and drunk with me.  We worked on the script, we had some dinner, we had some drinks, and then we deicided to go play with swords.  The guys live half a block from the VA Hospital in San Francisco and they have a nice big lawn, so we decided to go there are work on our moves.

So this is the scene: a couple of increasingly less-sober guys standing on the edge of a government-owned lawn around ten at night weilding swords at each other.  I should point out that these swords are part of my personal collection and are just for show: they have no sharp edges.  They are also pretty shiney and fancy looking, because you have to have style.

Suddenly a bright light flashes and a voice over loud speaker says in a not-exactly polite way "Drop the weapons and get down on the ground!" We all just kind of froze. The increasingly impolite voice continued his mantra and I heard Yuri say "Is he serious?"  Turns out he was.  Two other vehicles showed up, not black and whites like first, but a couple of trucks with only marginally less official looking gentlemen than our primary spokesman.  They told us we could sit up, took our IDs and asked us just what the hell we thought we were doing.  We confessed to being actors and were working on a scene.  Some of the iron came out of their postures at this and one guys even confessed to having done some bit roles with a few community theater outfits.  I was afraid he was going to start trying to re-enact one of his lines.  Finally they let us go with the belated blatantly obvious admonition of "don't swordfight on government property."

So we went back inside and wilded the night away.

Suddenly somebody was shaking me.  Wow, was it 5am already?  Yes.  Yes, it was.  We got up, showered and generally prepared to get on with the days work.  My mind still wasn't quite awake at this point.  It would only occur to me later that getting only two hours of sleep before a physically demanding shoot was a really dumb thing to do.  We rolled out, got coffee and pastries, and headed up to the Marin Headlands to get to work. 

 If you have never had the opportunity to explore the Marin Headlands, you are missing out on some seriously awesome childhood fun and some pretty amazing vistas.  See, there's all these bunkers and stuff left over from World War II.  There are also some absolutely stunning views of the Bay Area.  It's all a National Park so it's open to the public to go and check out and take pictures of to put in the scrap book.

What it ISN'T open for is people to stand around thinking about filming something for an independent project.  After having been there for about an hour or so, while we're still working on choreography and running up and down stairs, before we've even shot a single second of footage: a park ranger shows up and gives us a ticket for something along the lines of Conspiring To Perform Actions Requiring A Permit Without Having A Permit.  Which is, to use the indecadent street patois of Jimmy Scotch: curse word.

So, we thought about where else we might go do the scene.  I suggested the rolling foothills of Terra Linda, a suburb of San Rafael.  After stopping for some food and sunscreen, and then tromping around in poison oak for about an hour (good call, Jen) we couldn't find a place that worked.  Then Justin aka Chase suggested a place he knew in the Novato just up the street from where he grew up.  This, Finally, turned out to be a great place to shoot. 

We shot for 5 hours.  By the end of that time I could barely lift the 10lb saber I was swinging so wildly at David.  At various points throughout the shoot, Yuri almost impaled Dashiell, Mint felt like he was going to throw up, I could barely stand let along swing a sword, and Tacho started trying to hit on a turkey.

Editor's Note: I did almost impale Dashiell and it was a little terrifying. I was standing under the tree branch and he was sitting on top of it. I had the sword out, waiting to rehearse some of the moves when Dash decides it'd be a good idea to SWING down toward me -- not realizing I'm there. As he swings, we both realize in the span of a milisecond that the tip of the sword I'm holding is pointed right at his belly. At literally, the last second, I manage to move the sword sideways so it grazes his side. We laughed and joked but for a good moment there I was in mild shock because I think I came, literally, within a second of running him through.

Ohh, swords are fun!

Don't try this at home, kids. Back to your regularly scheduled blog...

 Then it was time to go home.  By this time we were so far from where we originally intended to shoot that we were actually closer to my house.  But Smart me: I had ridden with somebody else thinking it would be easier to shoot in the city and then just grab my car and drive home.  Now we had to drive for 20 minutes just to get to where my house is, then another 30 minutes to get back to the Swambler house where my car was parked, then drive another 30 minutes to get back home.

Blessedly, there was beer when I got there.

 And now, your weekly EvsG...

Editor's note: Jennifer is talking about the best weekend ever -- which I will write about next week so as to not ruin Monday's awesome conversation.

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Happy Jenday, everybody!  Wooo!

 Just remember: ...oh dang, I had something worth remembering then I forgot what it was.  Sweet irony!

Anyway, it's been a busy week.  I put together some bits of a few more songs, got my rogue up to 21 despite not getting to play WoW at all all weekend.  And boy, lemme tell ya: it was one HELL of a weekend...

Warning: Non-Spoiler Alert

I'll be the first to admit that I don't get enough excersize.  I'd say I don't get out enough, but I'm out all the time.  And by "out" I mean out of the comfort of my room.  This time is, given, largely spent at work, which doesn't really count as "out", but it's a huge portion of my day that I could be drinking, so I consider that "out".  But as far as excersize, I'll do a couple 16z-curls and call it a day.

Anyway, Saturday, Pirate Captain Scott and I had planned to work on our tent poles.  Let the almost gayness begin.  We have both recently aquired period-style tents, i.e. tents made to look like they are from another period of time, not part of some woman's monthly cycle.  You ever see Glory with Matthew Broderick?  (Ok, who thought I was going to say "glory-hole?) You know those wedge-looking tents (huh-huh, he said "wedge")the soldiers stayed in?  That's what my tent looks like.  For support it uses two wooden 2"x2"s and 2"x4" cross beam.  I also ordered an 8'x12' awning so that I can bring my own shade with me whenever I go camping back in the 1600's.  Which is actually quite frequently, so I'm getting my money's worth.  All in all  that's about 13 big sticks that some guy back east picked up from the lumber yard, gave them a once-over with a router, and packed and shipped them to me.  Therefore, there were a lot of rough edges that needed to be sanded away and then the things had to be coated with sealant to protect against incremental weather and handling abuse...doesn't this sound as dirty to anyone else as it does to me?

By the way, dictionary.com's word of the day yesterday was "gimcrack: tastelessly showy, gaudy".  I only mention this because I had to look up "incremental" just to make sure I was using it right.  Also, it sort of describes my writing style.

 Anyway, this process took a good 7 hours, because not only were we staining my poles (ha ha) but we were doing Scott's poles as well, and he ordered a huge...pavilion tent.  But he needs the space because he's married.  The most time a girl will spend in my tent is a few hours a night (wink wink).

 After we had polished our poles to our satisfaction, it was time for me to head out and meet with the rest of the boys from Break a Leg to go over the script for the shoot on Sunday and work out some choreography.  That's right: choreography.

It is at this point I will leave the gap in my story telling because I leave that right to Yuri, since this is his show and I don't want to embarrass him by telling it better than he does.  Let's just say: after this past weekend my right arm is extremely sore...and I'm left handed. 

 And now: more EvsG

Sorry this is late, folks.  Been a busy week.  Anywho, here's a little side project I've been kinda working on and off on...off on.  If ya like em, I'll make more.

Jen

Happy Jenday , everybody.

 Today I'd like to talk about coincidences: those odd little moments in your life that occur and make you think "Now that's odd.  I wonder if it means anything."  I for one would like to think they do, but I'll be damned if I know what it could possibly be.  I think it's also significant when you start noticing a lot of coincidences happening in close proximity to each other.  And then there's the whole fate string thing.  Let's start somewhere and call it a beginning...

   When I got out of the Army I moved back in with my parents.  I had decided to take a some time off and figure out my next step in life.  They had been living in Oregon at the time, but then a month later both got jobs back in our home of Marin County.  I was reunited with my childhood friend Will.  Will introduced me to Leonard who was also unemployed and a fellow gamer.  He and I started hanging out and mostly (yes, I admit it, and proudly, too) played Magic the Gathering.  He introduced me to a comic book shop where they had Magic night ever Friday.  One of the regulars was this guy named Neil.  Neil works at Waldenbooks.  I was working at a Kinko's not far from there when I discovered this.  So now, whenever I finish a book and need a new one but I'm not sure what to read, I go to Neil and he tells me "read this".  He is always right. 

   On one such occasion he introduced me to The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher.  This is an amazing series of books about a wizard for hire living in modern-day Chicago.  It's written very tongue in cheek like a good film noir, but there's wizards and vampires and monsterss and Dino-Zombie-Bob.  It's fantastic.  I'm going to go see Mr. Butcher on Friday in San Francisco.

   Anywho, I told all my friends about it.  One of its immediate fans was Gail, who is the First Mate of my pirate crew, the wife of the captain, and an amazing artist.  Gail got very heavily involved on the Jim Butcher forums talking about the books.  The new one is due to be out today, so Gail called (guess who) Waldenbooks because its the closest bookstore to her house.  She wanted to see if she could reserve a copy of the book, but the lady kindly told her they don't really do that kind of thing.  So Gail went on the forums again and mentioned this and Neil, who she has never had any contact with in real life, said that he would have her copy waiting behind the counter when it came in. 

   So the guy that introduced me to the books is reserving the book for the girl that I introduced to the books without either of them having had any prior contact or knowing that the other one knows me.  Maybe not so much a coincidence as a degree of separation, but still interesting, I think.

   Ok, maybe this next one will be better:

   In my pirate crew, and in the SCA in fact, I am known as The Reverend Mochran Killington, The Horny Bard.  I know, pretty awesome, right?  I have used Killington as a handle on a number of occasions, and really have come to associate with the name as if it were my own.  I created the personna about 6 years ago.  I got the name from an old Irish song about a bloodthirsty military leader, but other than that, pretty much the only references I can find to Killington are the fat guy on Studio 60 and Killington, Vermont, which I understand is a lovely little tourist town.

    Well currently I am reading Steven King's Dark Tower series, which is pretty engrossing, and not just gross like I consider a lot of his other stuff to be.  The story is all about these strange connections between people and worlds.  It's also pretty intense.  So when I was hunkered down this last Saturday morning burning through the last 3rd of the 4th book, I got to this part where there are two people standing in an abandoned train station in a city that was once something like New York, but a thousand years ago was destroyed and now all that live there are two warring mutant factions.  They all stay out of the train station because they believe it to be haunted.  Anyway, this couple are in there and the man has this flashback: suddeny he can see all the people that once walked through these halls, hear the sounds of them going about their travel plans, and suddenly over the loudspeakers he imagines hearing "Will Passenger Killington, passenger Killington please report to the information booth on the lower level?"  I literally felt a jolt go through me as I read that.  Of all the books in which to find a passing and almost completely random-seeming reference to something that is personal to me...it blew my mind.

   Ok, one more:

One of the latest books I read was "American Gods" by Neil Gaiman.  I you like to read, read Neil Gaiman.  And if you like Neil Gaiman, read "Good Omens", co-written by Terry Pratchett.  If you like "Good Omens", read Terry Pratchett's Discworld stuff.  If you like audio books, get any of the Discworld books read by Steven Briggs, easily downloadable on I-Tunes.  Trust me, it'll be worth the $50.

    Anyway, American Gods, right.  Well, remember back when I started this whole Jenday thing?  And who did I want to take the day from?  Yeah, Odin.  And who shows up and turns out to be one of the major characters in "American Gods"? Odin.  And after reading the book I feel totally justified for stealing his day.  Then we get to another character, somewhat minor, but still important.  And what's his name?  No, not Odin.  Chad.  That's my name (the one on my birth certificate, anyway).  And then, the books ends at the beginning of spring, which is, coincidentally, when I finished it, without even planning to.

So, to sum up, my friends, there have been a LOT of coincidences going on in my life lately.  I'm not sure if they're a warning, or a message saying "Just keep on going, we're watching and we're rooting for ya."  But I can feel the change coming in the air, like that feeling you get before a storm.  Back before I was a pirate, I was a Jedi, and I'm starting to get a lot of those same feelings of premonition.  Like yesterday I was walking around all day KNOWING that my friend Nate was going to call me and see if I wanted to go get drinks and food.  And who called me JUST as I was finishing writing this blog?  Yep.  Things are getting creepy, folks.  Just remember I mentioned something when the shit hits the fan.

Chad
 

 So, a couple of weeks ago I gave a sort of State of the Chad address, in which I mentioned that what's really important is being around your loved ones.  I also mentioned that last Thursday was my 31st birthday.  The following of an example of why I truly believe what I said.  Here's how rad my friends are...

 My friends are pirates.  I.e. we drink, we sing, we cause anarchy, and we occasionally steal things.  And oh yeah: breaking and entering.  We go to "War" about twice a year where we dress up as pirates and go camping with about 3000 other people.  We are the Crew of the Dread Ship Black Rose.  It's not pertinant to the story, it's just to explain that we really are piratey.  Anywho... Seeing as my birthday was on Thursday I decided to take Friday off so I could have the 3 day weekend, which was nice.  On Thursday, I worked all day...and it was a hellish day.  But that night I had steak and got a new digital camera which will be put to use in this very blog.

 Friday night the plan was to go out to dinner with my friends.  My friend Nate came to pick me up and as we were leaving the house I forgot to grab my keys and wallet.  Yeah, I locked myself out.  But this was excusable because I had been celebrating all day. 

At my house there is what is known as "The Hobo Guard".  I'll explain: there is a back door to my house, through which is a small storage room and another back door.  That second back door has a lock that nobody in the house has a key for.  There is a long and tangled story behind that which I'll tell at another time.  So, in general, we leave that door unlocked.  The theory is that any hobos who happen to find our place and happen to find out the back back door is open will then be so flummoxed by there being a second door which IS locked that their brains will explode at the mere incomprehension of it all.  Also, by the use of the word "flummoxed".  However, I have a new roommate and he doesn't know not to lock the hobo guard, so when Nate and I went around the back to see if it was open and hopefully the other door was unlocked for some reason, the hobo guard was locked.  The door isn't in very good condition.  Nate gave me a look.  I gave him a nob.  He shoulder jammed it open in one go and insured that the lock would never be a problem again.  And of course, that back door was locked.  Ok, problem for later.  Time for food.

 Not having a wallet was not a problem because my friends were taking me out for dinner and we weren't going anywhere super fancy.  I had been craving fettuccini alfredo for a while, so we went to Pasta Pomodoro.  I like Pasta Pomodoro.  It's easy, it's good, it's inexpensive...but something seemed to have happened, some corporate assholes made each other think it would be great to earn themselves more money by not paying their waitstaff as much.  So the service kinda sucked.  But hey, I was with my crew and we stole all the sugar packets and tea from the table when we left.

 We went back to my place.  Now the issue of getting inside.  Remember what I said about breaking and entering?  I think I will use some visual aids in this portion of the story.

1. First we found a ladder laying about, as they do.  This is Nate with the ladder.

2. This is still Nate with the ladder.  You can tell I was really getting into my subject matter as an artist with my camera.

3.  Here's Nate up the ladder discovering that the screen to my window is screwed in place.

4.  This is the view from the top of the ladder I took while Nate went and got his screw gun.

5.  I think these pretty much speak for themselves at this point.

6.  I was not as drunk as I look in this picture...yet.

7.  Open the window...

8.  And slide inside!

After that the party ran it's course with the usual motley and laughter and insobriety.  I had a great time.  Then I made the mistake of falling asleep before the party was over.  This is why I should never do this.

9. This is Scott.  He's the captain of the pirate crew.  He's also devious and prone to acts of chaos.  So when I woke in the morning I had a new friend in my room.

10.  I'm still laughing.

And that, my friends, is why you should party with pirates.

Happy Jenday