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.

>>><<< 

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?!?!)

Gearing up for three more days of hard work, but busting out the crystal glasses for two weeks of hiatus over Thanksgiving,

I’ll just be me,

~Hat-free P :)

Safety Blankets

 

Thrashing around in my sleep (as a perimenopausal woman of my age is apparently wont to do), I awoke abruptly at 1:30 in the morning, completely astonished that within the small window of three and a half hours of hardcore REM sleep, I’d somehow miraculously managed to remake my bed with the top covers all splayed upward.  (One end even had a proper hospital corner!)  WTF???

Did I have a hot flash followed by cold feet?  Possibly.  But more than likely (I surmised with all of the inexplicable genius-ness that seems to manifest itself in sleepy-tude, wherein, without so much as the assistance of counting on your fingers, we share that Divine Supernatural Gift of Einstein-esque ability to discern to the exact MINUTE of how much longer we get to sleep):  yes, more than likely, I was having a small panic attack.

As our sit-com had been on hiatus for a week, I’d stayed up ‘til 10pm, waiting patiently for the script to arrive via email so I could at least have a handle on what I might need to do, plus once again, we had a new Director coming to our stage that I’d never worked with, nor did I have any input from friends as to what to expect!

And logging onto the poot all bleary-eyed at around 1:37am, still without a script to glance over, I thanked God for my… um… my… (Well, see, I can’t do the math NOW!); but for my precise timing left until the 6:30am alarm clock!

Flopping back on the pillow, I flailed around a bit in the darkness wondering how I’d ever get back to sleep.  I missed my feline companion Pretty who was such a comforting, warm-bodied, albeit wet-nosed opiate.  And worse yet, I’d screwed up the date of her adoption in my last blog post, which was actually Oct. 29.

But being still in the silence of the night, I heard the strangest sound coming from the left side of the bed…

Call it a Halloween miracle if you will: but my animatronic, “Perfect Petzzz” snow white fox “Cousin Itt” stuffed animal (who seemingly sighed his final “breath” two months ago), suddenly started purring like a kitty in its creepy little make-shift fake bedding.

And… sleep!

>>><<< 

Grabbing a paper copy of the missing script (apparently lost to all “Yahoo!” users) early in the morning and graciously informed by my Second AD that I would be filling in for the extraordinarily artistically challenging roles of (my words) “Hot tub Blonde #1 and Hot tub Blonde #2”, I thanked him for the heads-up. 

Taking our shoes off and clambering into the spa with our Guest Star (clothes on, no water!), I nestled appropriately into the arms of a swarthy Englishman whom I had done a series with (short-lived, as many may be) back in 1995.  And re-introducing myself, we hugged warmly as old friends do at the prospect of once again performing scenes together after so many years!

Feeling particularly honored that our new Director respected me enough to ask me to stand up on a spoken line (always a good sign, as we Stand-Ins are often completely ignored), I did as told, all the while acting the part (according to the script on the day) of a 20-something year old “flotation device”.  (Crap!  Had I known in advance, I might’ve been able to drudge up a ten-year-old Wonder Bra!)

Yes, such is my occupation… 

But to think, in hindsight, that I should be even remotely nervous the night before? 

Pfft! 

After TWENTY PLUS years (insert hands-on-hips posture as I mount the saddle atop one of my High Horses (yes, let’s call him “Pfft!”)), in the niche of the sometimes inconsequential cobweb that dangles precariously from the bottom rung of the Hollywood Ladder, I’ve established my NAME in this business!!!

And thanked for my assistance in the scene, my Englishman briefly casually massaged my shoulders as we stared together at our catered Craft Services sterno flames heating trays of blackened salmon, almond chicken and miscellaneous side dishes.  “It’s so nice to work with you again” he smiled genuinely, with an affectionate gesture of a cheek to cheek face hug.  “So, what’ve they got there for us to lunch on, Peggy?”

After TWENTY PLUS years in this business (insert hands-on-hips posture as I may or may not have lost my footing dismounting my High Horse), I had established my NAME in this business!

And apparently, that NAME is once again “Peggy”!

>>><<< 

Climbing into my car parked on the roof of the structure at my favorite studio lot shortly thereafter, I actually looked forward to running some errands.  After all, I was off from work early for the day on my first week back after a one week hiatus and (Luddite that I still am); I had officiously mapped out my entire route of tasks to achieve on a Post-It note.

Until…

*click, click, click*

WTF?

*click, click, click*

Seriously, WTF???

*click, click, click*

AW, C’MON!!!

Call it a second Halloween miracle, but dialing AAA once again (and feeling ever so proud that I, with my security badge, had the authority to allow the truck onto the premises!) we scurried up to take care of my car who, much like my animatronic Cousin Itt, had apparently died.

“I can get her going with a few taps to the starter to get the cogs in place, but if you have a good mechanic, I’d get that starter replaced today because this is just gonna get worse and keep happening” my friendly AAA Superhero Jack recommended.

And scurrying over Laurel Canyon, I wheeled Cecilia safely into the comforting arms of my brilliant mechanic and friend Jose. 

“Uh-oh” Jose hugged me.  “What’s Cecilia up to now?” he smiled, well aware of the bond between me and my automobile.

>>><<< 

Normally, immensely grateful to embrace our bizarre schedule of having Tuesdays off for the Writers to work, I couldn’t help but fret.  What if Cecilia couldn’t be fixed?  After all, we’d been through so much together!  And to this day, after our “ordeal”, she STILL has safety pins on her dashboard as a gentle reminder!

And walking five or six city blocks to Jose’s business, not yet sure of Cecilia’s status, but feeling the need to be close, I hovered around Sunset Blvd., waiting for the call.

There was a delightful flower shop with spider webs and black roses in the window; a garishly lit neon tattoo parlor (tempting!), and an Eastern European Deli where I stopped to buy a bottle of water and was blathered at in a foreign language by the shop keeper.

“I’m sorry, how much?” I pointed to my water.

“Oh.  Not Russian?  One dollar” he smiled, carefully displaying four ones from my five on the countertop for the security camera.  (Was I in Vegas?!)

And lurking around the corner to get a glimpse at Cecilia, I saw that her hood was up, which meant that I STILL had to buy some more time.

So continuing my walk, I happened upon a comic book store.

Harmless, right?

Quite frankly, I’m not sure which made me the most uncomfortable…

There were Hollywood technicians setting up video for a live chat with someone highly respected in the comic book world, as well as a small throng of said celebrity’s followers who seemed completely unnerved at the presence of an actual female in their store.

WTF?

I was Penny (myself, with my red-headed ponytail), yet somehow I seemed to be standing-in for Kaley Cuoco as “Penny” on The Big Bang Theory…

“So sorry, I’ll get out of your way” one scrawny lad who was decidedly not in my way and who couldn’t make eye contact with me scuttled off hurriedly. 

“I’m just gonna… over there…” another twenty-something kid with a pierced lip disappeared down an aisle with an armful of graphic novels.

And feeling bad for making the kids uncomfortable in their natural habitat, I returned to the maternal task of stalking Cecilia.  After all, I just wanted to collect my car and once again appreciate the simple joys of the safety of my vehicle!

>>><<< 

With Cecilia home (sporting her eager new starter AND a swanky durable front tire!), I witnessed my third Halloween miracle – an envelope in my mail box, hand-addressed from the Department of Unemployment.  I’d endured one demoralizing telephone interview from the EDD, plus two written appeals that the Adjudication Center had flat-out denied.  But having Xeroxed my paperwork from SAG/AFTRA, as well as the envelope with the postage highlighted in yellow to indicate the DATE RECEIVED of my RESIDUAL CHECK from a CBS episode, I withered at what fresh Hell EDD had to bestow on me now for telling them the God’s honest truth for the FOURTH TIME.

Not an apologetic vase of roses?  Nor a thoughtfully written card?  Just a dismissive notation once again allowing my benefits after FUCKING ME UP FINANCIALLY FOR TWO MONTHS IN A ROW?

Well, bloody hell, thank you very much.  (Seriously, am I the very first Actor in Hollywood to ever get a residual check?)

>>><<< 

Staggering through another thirteen hour day of camera-blocking, it was finally back to bed for me!

Well, not exactly MY bed…

“Can I see Penny on the monitor under the covers?” our DP wanted to know as he trained two cameras onto the set to check his lighting.

Oh don’t get me wrong – there was nothing in the world I wanted more than to kick off my shoes and crawl comfortably under the blankets on our cold sound stage!  Unfortunately however, having accrued two Union Meal Penalties (we have to break every six hours of production for a real meal, or we get paid a small stipend) I had taken the liberty of grabbing a snack from Craft Services backstage; a most unfortunate choice of pita bread and hummus.

Now, to be delicate, may I remind you kind readers, that hummus happens to be a bean-based dish…?

Stalling to the best of my ability with the DP, I diplomatically explained that I needed permission from Set Decorating before climbing into the bed.  (True!)

And call it my final Halloween miracle; I was blessed that Set Dec needed to swap out all the covers for a different look on a separate day, as I gently excused myself into a dark corner out of the way before ever approaching the bed.

Starting to think that “Pfft!” is a REALLY bad name for a High Horse,

~Perimenopausal Penny

A Happy Halloween Tail?

 

With my High Holy Holiday of Halloween approaching, I would’ve been remiss not to take advantage of the sales, plus I probably would’ve suffered some serious delirium tremors at not getting my yearly fix!

After all, if you know the first thing about me, my home is my sanctuary, and whilst the rest of the world may update their living environment on any given day, I’m somewhat limited to a short window of time when all manner of delightfully spooky accoutrements are trotted out on display.  (Yes, I confess to a once-a-year needle in my arm…!)

Sure, the fixation was temporarily quelled at a Rite-Aid store with the purchase of a tiny shelf dweller skeleton wearing a Mardi Gras mask and cuddling a black kitty (for only $3.00?):

But soon thereafter, I found myself on a full-blown Target binge!

There was a glow-in-the-dark skull and crossbones pillow!  There were even luxurious embroidered hand towels to spruce up my bathroom!

Not to mention the world’s greatest ever throw rugs that were reversible?  (Hello?  One for my bathroom and one for my kitchen?  Awesome!!!)

 

And whipping out my Debit card to pay for my yearly upgrade addiction, I didn’t even flinch at the total of seventy-six bucks for my purchases.  After all, we’re approaching my High Holy Holiday of Halloween wherein I feel most connected to the rest of the world, and I couldn’t help but smile stupidly at the local Smart and Final cashier later that day; a daunting scythe-wielding skeleton draped in shrouds, hovering ominously over his conveyor belt.  Joy!!!

And once again, my world made sense!

Halloween?  There’s nothing really scary about it!  Embrace it, I say!!!  (She typed innocently the week prior to the Holiday…)

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself” ~Franklin D. Roosevelt

>>><<< 

Walking onto the stage early on a Monday morning, I blanched at an oncoming awkward moment that was inevitable as I encountered one of our Executive Producers in the tiny pathway to and from Craft Services.  (Now THAT, I find to be scarier than any Halloween movie ever created.)

“Good Morning!” I may have unnecessarily shouted (as I think his ‘good’ ear was further away, but I could’ve been wrong…)

“Ya gotta BIG part to play today, Pen” he responded; his comment trickling eerily up my spine to all the little hairs on the back of my neck.  And glancing down at the cover of my script, I noticed that he had personally written the episode.

“Well, thanks for your faith in me!” (???) I smiled, never entirely certain as to how to interpret the enigmatic minds of the Powers That Be.  Were they words of camaraderie and trust?  Or had I just been threatened with being fired if I sucked?  Plus he called me “Pen”, as though we’ve been BFFs all along?  (I didn’t think he even knew my name!)  “I’ll do my best” I offered cheerfully.

“Uch, I’ve heard ya do the accent a million times, and you’re funny” he waived me off with a flip of his hand and without a further thought beyond scarfing down his plate of bacon and eggs.

(Um, Fear Level, minimal?)

>>><<< 

Now, as a Stand-In, I’m quite accustomed to the appropriate amounts of respect towards, distance from, and tact with our Cast.  I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again now, but I understand my boundaries and limits as to being visible yet invisible as necessary ala Casper the Friendly Ghost. 

That said however, I was required to fill in for a Guest Star, whom despite enjoying a rather meaty role, she was currently unavailable for the day.  And requested to sit side-by-side with the Actors at the table-read, I complacently took a seat to enact the part of our lovely Guest Star, who has to mimic the accent of my Gorgeous Actress.

Slightly anxious as I may have been initially, I must admit that table-reads are BY FAR the least terrifying experience for me as an Actor.  You bury your nose in the script, you deliver your jokes as written and you’re done!  EASY-PEASY!  And getting a feel for the timing of the laughter before you put the scenes on their feet, you learn when to speak, and when to shut up.  It’s not Rocket Science!

(Again, Fear Level, minimal.)

So not surprisingly, my day was going swimmingly throughout rehearsals.  I had multiple shared dialogue with my Gorgeous Actress (well, that was sort of bizarre as I normally Stand-In for her), but working out our comedic timing together, I was feeling relatively confident as the day progressed.

Tackling the first couple of scenes during our Network/Producer/Writer Run-Thru, my heart soared with joy as the Powers That Be laughed in all the right places!  Oh, they were ROOTING for me to do a good job!  Oh, I hadn’t tanked any of their jokes!  Oh, I would still be gainfully EMPLOYED!!!

Until…

Attempting to finish a scene wherein our Guest Star was directed to take my Gorgeous Actress’ dog (HER REAL DOG!!!) out of her arms, I fumbled a bit at grasping the sizeable girth of an eleven-year-old, deaf-in-one-ear, cataract-suffering, feeble-legged, twenty-pound (I think I’m being kind in regard to her heft) Chocolate Pomeranian, as I attempted to balance the rescued (and extraordinarily pampered) pup on top of my script from the arms of my Gorgeous Actress – all the while trying to clasp said canine, whilst trying my best to discern the boundaries between scooping up the doggie belly, without accidentally including our notoriously bra-less Actress’ breasts in the exchange. 

(Fear Level now escalating towards acute discomfort and unease.)

And somewhat bastardizing the dialogue (in my defense, I’d planted the puppy’s ass on my page, as I would prefer to be fired for ruining one line, as opposed to the guillotine I’d face if I accidentally made that helpless doggie yelp!!!), I attempted to smile (in absolute TERROR) as my Gorgeous Actress STARED ME DOWN as scripted for the day; her baby, cuddled in my arms…

“And, CUT!” our Director ended the scene, as my Actress softened, warmly reclaiming the enormous mass of her canine companion.

“She’s just a butterball, isn’t she?!  Mommy LOVES her daughter!  Yes she DOES!” she cooed affectionately to her pup, giving her belly kisses, as I wiped a bead of sweat off my brow.

*whew!*

By all accounts, the rest of my week appeared sunny and delightful!  Certainly there would be NO more horror stories, as our Guest Star was available on Wednesday through Friday, and I could happily return to my Casper-like invisibility!

Until…

With re-written scenes flooding the stage (as usual on our show), our Fearless Leader attempted to get ahead of the Zombie-esque stalking of our brains being eaten by all of the slow moving twists and turns of the script.  And throwing Second Team in head-first (if you will), we attempted to block as much as possible for cameras.  Sure, the dialogue was undoubtedly subject to change, but (and I don’t have the power to read our Director’s mind, yet the impassioned determination to find an ounce of dominance over a set that’s so cock-blocked (pardon my language) by the Powers That Be), come Hell or high water, our Director was determined to get SOMETHING accomplished on his own terms!

And as our ever-so obedient Second Team performed to the delight of our Director, we actually had a decent grasp of a show – even with a newly written scene which involved the delicate choreography of a bitchy, mud-slinging cat fight between my Gorgeous Actress and our Guest Star!

Oh, I could finally put my feet up after an eleven hour day (twelve, if you count lunch) and rest comfortably on my laurels!

Until…

“Wait, wait, wait!” my Gorgeous Actress suddenly stopped all production.  “Who remembers when I crossed stage left?” she wanted to know as I barreled onto the set with my script as a back-up plan should anyone higher-up have failed to take note.  And singling me out, she made the Executive Decision to watch me perform her blocking and remind her of the moves she had made earlier that morning.

“G’head Pen” she smiled.  “I need to see it, to be reminded” she nodded sweetly, as the entire crew fell ominously silent.

EEK!!!  (Fear Level at DEFCON ONE!!!)

Ever-so-tiny as my pea-brain may be, and ever-so-nervous of the random occasions when I’m relegated to perform a scene FOR my Actress AS my Actress, I sucked it up to the best of my ability as she watched my movements and kindly endured my impersonation of her.

“OK!  Most of that works for me!” she beamed.  “Thanks Pen!  I really appreciated that!” she smiled warmly as I IMMEDIATELY scampered into the shadows.

And nestled comfortably in the darkness with my crew, I welcomed the heartfelt blessings of two camera operators and a camera tech who all hugged me.

“Ya do great work kid!  Don’t let nobody tell ya otherwise!” my pal Vito patted my back.

(And just like that, Fear Level?  ZERO!)

>>><<< 

Tired yet wired after a thirteen hour day, I retreated to my sanctuary to embrace my Halloween purchases, including two spectacular picture frames that I’d not yet filled.

And pulling out the first one (elegantly painted with spooky spider webs), I selected a photo from my Hollywood archives over six years ago:

(Yes, that would be the Divine Reba McEntire, the hilarious Melissa Peterman, myself, and the ever-so-handsome James Denton!)

But staring at the second frame, I couldn’t quite imagine what might fit into the tiny 2”x2” shadow box…

However, as The Universe tends to pay more attention to the obvious that we sometimes overlook, my eyes were drawn (for whatever reason) to a small plastic Ziploc bag I keep near my purse – a go-to packet of photos should an Earthquake hit and I have mere seconds to grab a handful of pictures of my family and other loved ones.  And just who might be staring at me on the top of the pile?

And with peace in my heart that I’d finally stumbled upon an appropriate frame during my shopping frenzy, I lovingly inserted my favorite pic of my heroic feline sidekick Pretty, lounging happily inside one of her favorite plastic baggies.

 

Celebrating today – which would’ve been our 17 year anniversary since her adoption – and every day this week on my first hiatus, (!!!)

~Casper the Fearless, Friendly P