Sgt. York, The Resortation & Tubas

What do WWI hero Sgt. Alvin York, a Restoration period play, and a documentary about tubas have in common? Alex, that would be "what are freelance projects I dabble in when I'm not working at my real job" for $500.00.

Hah, I wish! Sometimes there's a little money out there but mostly it's for trade. Tickets, meals, drinks, whatnot.

I'm not knocking it. These projects allow me to stretch my creative muscles and expose me to real characters that I may not have met otherwise. Maybe it will pay off financially. Maybe not. At least I'm having a little fun, taking away some stories and adding to the old portfolio.

In July, the Sgt. York Patriotic Society is holding it's first fancy dress ball at the Southern Hills Golf Course. They needed a "save the date" card (I didn't know what that was but apparently it is a postcard asking people to keep the date free for the event). When I created the postcard, I gave it a sepia tone, made it look like it had been packed in the attic since 1916.

The Backdoor Playhouse at the University is doing a Restoration Comedy called 'She Stoops To Conquer". The plot - a high society lady wants to win the attention of a certain young man, but that young man is shy and does not easily speak to true "ladies". His shyness disappears when he is speaking to commoners so she disguises herself as a bar wench and hangs out at his favorite hangout.

The illustration in this poster is a composite of two photos (three including the background) - one of the actress in high society garb and one of her as a bar wench.

On Monday night, Tuba U: Basso Profundo, a documentary about tubas and prejudice and dedication, is making it's world public premiere at a local venue. A free jazz tuba concert from the star of the show and his Tennessee Tech Tuba Ensemble will proceed it. The show will be broadcast nationally in the evening of April 26th on PBS. And while this poster is tied to my marketing efforts at PBS, it is also part of my freelance past. Before I worked at the TV station, I worked on the post-production of the DVD. If you squint really hard and watch the credit roll at the end of the show, you may see my name.

Living on the Edge of Tornado Alley

I was at work on Good Friday when I heard air raid sirens. Curious sod that I am, I stepped outside the front door to see what was happening. A young female colleague had also stepped out the front door, was distracted by her cell phone and reached behind her to close the door. As I was behind her, the knob she made contact with was not the door's.

(Let that be a warning to all you cell phone junkies - you talk and drive OR reach for knobs at your own peril dammit! And mine too!)

Once she and I partially recovered from the trauma, we stood in the glow of our red faces and watched the black and gray sky roll past while we listened to the eerie wail of the air raid sirens. Well, I listened. She nattered on her damn cell phone and shot me embarrassed looks. I felt all World War Two-ie, and pictured German bombers buzzing the city, ready to unleash their fury on us English dogs. But the destruction unleashed was not German inspired. The fury from the skies was simply a hazard of living on the edge of Tornado Alley.

We are no strangers to twisters in Canada. I can think of at least three killing tornadoes in the last twenty years. I've seen a couple touch down on the empty prairies. But man, around here, April showers bring more than flowers. Enjoy sniffing the petunias but watch the sky or your ass may end up in Oz.

That Good Friday wasn't good for everybody, About an hour away in a small city called Murfreesboro, just south and east of Nashville, a twister touched down and cut a 10 mile swath through populated area. It is hard not to find a populated area around here. Two confirmed dead (a mother and her nine-week-old baby), forty one treated for injuries, houses destroyed, millions in damages.

News From March 2009

The Escape

We escaped to a cabin in the Smoky Mountains for a couple of nights in March. Hot tub. Full kitchen and BBQ grill. Fireplace. Cable. The Little River burbling it’s way past our front door. Not exactly roughing it and by no means secluded – the park was dirty with tourists – but enjoyable in the illusion of seclusion. It was delightful to be forced to relax by not having phones and computers and stuff demanding attention. How bloody pleasant!

The Kidney Stone Kid

Four stones, count them, four. Two giganto ones, two pebbles. Like that family from my childhood that lived on the corner in their rundown ramshackle rumshack, the family you crossed the street to avoid because the kids were bullies and big and mean and the parents drank and swore a blue streak and didn’t give a damn. Yeah, like those guys.

Well, this time these bullies were all punching away at my left kidney. Last week, we blasted them to smithereenies. At least I hope they were blasted. You can never tell with a family like that. They’re just mean to the stone. But I took it like a man. Almost a man. As you can plainly see by the photo of me being wheeled in to my procedure.

Oh yes, there has been debris. Shards. I have proof in an old pill bottle. How did I acquire the proof? You really don’t want to know.

On April 1st, I have my follow up appointment. This is Chuck, my doctor. He used to be the mayor. How many people can say they have had the mayor put on his rubber glove and check their prostate. I take that back. Plenty of politicians have given their constituents the finger.

Anyhow, I am anxious to see if the mayor and I have given the bum's rush to that no-good family and it is my fondest wish that they have all pissed off. I cannot help but wonder though if a couple of them are still hiding a nook or cranny. After all, there are shadows and alleys a'plenty to conceal a dirty stinkin’ stone in this crazy place called Kidney Town.

Alberta Poem

My friend Jim Drinnan's butt is frozen to the Alberta tundra. He passed this on to me.

ALBERTA WINTER

IT'S WINTER IN ALBERTA
AND THE GENTLE BREEZES BLOW
SEVENTY MILES AN HOUR
AT THIRTY-FIVE BELOW
OH HOW I LOVE ALBERTA
WHEN THE SNOW'S UP TO YOUR BUTT
YOU TAKE A BREATH OF WINTER AIR
AND YOUR NOSE GETS FROZEN SHUT
YES, THE WEATHER HERE IS WONDERFUL
SO I GUESS I'LL HANG AROUND
I COULD NEVER LEAVE ALBERTA
CAUSE I'M FROZEN TO THE GROUND!!

Pang Addendum

"My panging was left hanging as I read about the minus 22 and drifting snow in Calgary tonight," he said as he looked out the window at the budding trees and blooming flowers. "I'll pang more when the frozen north thaws out. Until then, pass the iced tea and the funeral fan. It's warm down here."

Panging

I'm having homesick pangs and creating this poster for a fundraiser the station is having did not help matters. Most Calgarians should know exactly where this picture was taken. Anyone care to hazard a guess?

The price of the trip from TN is a whopping $4,500 U.S. (slightly inflated because of the fundraising aspect). And to think, I used to live a mere hour and a half away from this spectacular scenery.

Pang Pang Pang.

What's New - February 2009

The Monologues

As I strolled by the University playhouse on the opening night of “The Vagina Monologues”, I heard a booming voice from across the street. Looking up from my thoughts, I saw a towering red-bearded redneck with a red plaid shirt waving his fist in the air. I think he was fresh out of the hills. Which is to say, bedraggled and ratty and, well, anything but fresh. When he shouted, it was muffled as if he were yelling with his head in a sewer. I didn’t understand what he was saying but his loyal minions dispelled any doubt of his intentions by waving signs that proclaimed “Fear God” and “ Repent Sinners”.

Sadly, the minions weren’t all that loyal. After I moved on, apparently the police showed up, and the protestors scattered like ashes in the wind, leaving Mr. Muffles in the lurch. I understand that one of the officers tried to reason with him, telling him he was a Christian too, a Catholic. The redneck replied that he had no use for Catholics. I would have enjoyed listening to that conversation. This place offers no end of chuckles!

For those of you who don't know, I am one of those sinners - I designed the poster for that play.

Cass Warner

I had the pleasure this month of meeting and visiting with Cass Warner. Very cool person. The following is an article about Cass that I wrote for the PBS Membership Guide.


Cass Warner Sperling has storytelling in her blood. She’s the daughter of Oscar-nominated producer/writer Milton Sperling and the granddaughter of Harry Warner, President and Founder of Warner Bros. studio. You know, the studio that produced such classics as Casablanca, Sergeant York, My Fair Lady and yes boys and girls, that Oscar-winning rabbit, Bugs Bunny.

Cass was in Cookeville recently promoting her book and feature documentary, “The Brothers Warner”. Why Cookeville? Because that is the home of Dr. Michael Birdwell (my friend Birdie pictured left), TTU professor, historian, and author of “Celluloid Soldiers: The Warner Bros. Campaign Against Nazism”. Dr. Birdwell’s expertise about the Warner Brothers earned him a key role in the documentary.

In the WCTE studio, Cass talked to us about the Warner Brothers, Harry, Albert, Sam and Jack. “They came from nothing and had a huge dream. Every barrier, every obstacle was an incentive for them to do the next thing. We need more people with dreams.”

There were always movie stars in her house when she was growing up. One of her favorites was Richard Burton. “He always treated me like a person, paid attention to me, played games with me. He even taught me Skittles (an old European version of bowling).”

Her book and documentary tell the true story of the Warner brothers – from the humble beginnings and giant dreams to building one of the most innovative and successful motion picture studios in history. The motto of Warner brothers was to “educate, entertain and enlighten”, and it’s a legacy motto that Cass Warner and her company “The Warner Sisters” take to heart.

You can find out more about Cass’s “The Brothers Warner” and about The Warner Sisters by going to www.warnersisters.com. You can also watch for her on WCTE’s “Good News Breaks”.

The PBS Gig

I have one month of PBS under my ample belt. It’s going well. There are no princely sums involved, the computers and software are ancient, the joint is understaffed, and there are always last minute emergencies. There is so little money that I am amazed the place exists.

Yet it does. This small station more than survives. Last month they actually won an Emmy by partnering with a documentary filmmaker with whom I worked with when I first came to town. That Emmy, she’s puuuurty!

Behind my desk sits a TV. One afternoon, I was totally focused on some task or other when I heard my name. When I looked behind me, there I was! Scared the ever-lovin’ bejesus out of me. As the old joke goes, I’ve got the perfect face for radio. Unfortunately, I suspect there is more on-air stuff to come.

Meanwhile, I’ve been writing and designing ads, posters and a newsletter, plus coming up with guerilla marketing strategies (that’s what you call marketing when you have no money… and you like bananas). It's been fun. And I'm told that one day, if I am a very good boy, I'll actually get paid!

This is a Billboard I created for the... well, you can see why I created it yourself.