One Red Cent Trying to Make Sense: Which Hat Shall We Wear Today?

Bette Davis (left) and her Stand-In Sally Sage on the movie "Now Voyager". (1942)

Festering internally at the prospect of this so-called man named “Mario” employed for the day to take over MY job as a Stand-In for my Gorgeous Actress, I stood petulantly with arms folded in the shadows behind the lighting crew as they rigorously created a Hollywood day of sunshine (in the flux of occasional rain) as we prepared to shoot one scene of our sit-com on location.

“The car isn’t a stick shift, is it?” I wearily confirmed with my ADs paranoically (hey, it’s my blog, and I can make up my own words), recollecting a childhood trauma of my sister allowing me to drive her VW Bug around our front lawn wishing-well island of flag-stone and plowing through two 10 speed bikes into the garage at the tender age of twelve-ish-ness.

“Um, no… It’s not a stick shift” I was patently reassured.

“Well, that’s very good then!” I beamed; script in hand and most ready to perform the scene in lieu of my Gorgeous Actress who was still in Hair/Make up.

“Watch your eyes, Mario!” the electricians chimed in unison, bathing Mario in a golden waft of flattering, age-defying warmth that seemed to erase every single wrinkle on his face.

“Go ahead and hop in the car” our First AD directed my co-worker Tara to sit-in for the passenger. And within about fifteen minutes later, she too was effused with her very own personal glow of idyllic lighting.

“But, but, but, I wanna sit in the car too…” I mumbled to myself.

Meanwhile, feeling completely irrelevant and unnecessary to the filming, and simply trying to take up as little space as possible while all of the most imperative cogs of the Hollywood infrastructure worked their magic, I selected another “visible/yet invisible” locale on which to stand; a small island between the lanes of incoming and outgoing traffic through the security gate where we were shooting.

“Heads up! Watch your back! Cars coming through!” our Associate Producer suddenly found himself directing traffic ala a Studio Security Guard, until Very Important Phone calls were made and a fleet of gentlemen with official STOP signs eventually came to the rescue.

And although meetings had been taken and preparations had apparently been mapped out accordingly by the Higher-Ups of the Studio Lot, things had gone horribly awry.

The chatty morning talk show on the sound stage next to ours had two different audiences filtering in and out willy-nilly, plus one sit-com on the lot had ordered up 150 background actors who had completely filled up the North parking structure, and with no alternative, they’d been re-routed back to the gate where we were filming.

All in all, well, let’s just call it mayhem.

Approached by my favorite UPM that I’ve known for decades, we stared at the scene unfolding before us together in awe and silence for a few minutes, gusty winds occasionally spraying our faces with mist.

“So, Mario is standing in for you…” he mused, always calmly focused on the tasks that he has the ability to actually control.

“Yep” I concurred, still a wee bit miffed at being replaced.

“Well, at least you’re not sitting under a silk in the rain” he offered pleasantly.

“Well, yeah, there’s that” I yielded, nodding agreeably.

“Not to mention the fact that it’s a $200,000.00 car…” he tilted his head thoughtfully.

“WHAAAT?!?!”

“I just hope Mario can do her New York accent” my UPM smirked dryly before walking away.

Oh! To think that I might have had to be in the driver’s seat of a car that cost $200,000.00 and I would’ve had to put it in gear and actually navigate the automotive Work Of Art around all of the angry drivers trying to access the parking structure? What was I thinking?!?! Give me the cold, the rain and whatever else The Universe had to throw at me!!! My life was blessed! (My ass was freezing), but MY LIFE WAS BLESSED!!! “Bring it on!” I crossed my arms once again in defiance as the rain began to cascade.

“Penny to the set please, I need Penny on the set.”

(Oh! When will I learn NOT to challenge The Universe?!!!)

Most UN-accustomed to the tedium of standing-in for a Stand-In, our Transportation guy Mario had answered his cell phone, and despite the Camera Operators trying to line up their shots, he had randomly exited the vehicle and wandered off for a chat.

And only by the Grace of God (having watched my friend Tara struggle with how the heck to even open the door handle), did I slide into the driver’s seat effortlessly of the Aston Martin:

Oh, the car was luxurious! There wasn’t even a gear shift thingie! There were only buttons on the dashboard to put the car in neutral, drive, reverse and park!

Mmm, mmm, mmm… A girl could get used to that…! But less than five minutes later I heard the voice of my Gorgeous Actress approaching me with all due “thank you”s; my immediate cue to exit the lap of luxury.

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Having been up since 5:30am, on my feet all day and positively exhausted by our wrap time of 11:12pm, I was crawling out of my skin. And tossing my work stuff into Cecilia’s passenger seat, I sighed heavily as she immediately, accusatorily turned on her “check engine” light YET AGAIN.

“Yes, OK? YES!!! I CHEATED ON YOU TODAY WITH AN ASTON MARTIN!” I informed my 1997 Toyota. “HE WAS CHOCOLATE BROWN, AERODYNAMIC AND CRADLED MY BODY LOVINGLY!” I confessed – much to the bewilderment of my fellow co-workers who were also piling into their automobiles after a long-ass day… (Oops!)

But arriving home safely and jonesing for a cocktail, waaay too tired to sleep (this may be confusing to some people, however it makes perfect sense to a lot of workers in the Industry), I logged on to the poot to check my emails.

“Please review your recent purchase!” Overstock.com wished for my assistance regarding a Halloween-ish (aka year-round for me!) acquisition of a magnificent set of four handmade, lead-free crystal, crafted in America, (decorated by artisans at the Susquehanna Glass Company in Pennsylvania) wine goblets. “Please use the product before providing your review.”

And donning my Critic’s hat, prepared to give a rave review on their appearance alone, I paused in contemplation…

I’m not even a wine drinker! I’d only unwrapped one glass, admired its excellent craftsmanship, then wrapped it up again like another Work of Art (well, $35.00 for the set, not $200,000.00!) and put the goblet back in the box.

But you know what? Sometimes you deserve to treat yourself.

And pouring my voddy/diet 7Up out of my Rite-Aid glass (with a paper towel wrapped around it) into my elegant bat-goblet, I couldn’t help but recline leisurely. (Who knew that finely balanced crystal could hold 19 ounces of a mixed drink gently in the palm of your hand?!?!)