Friday, May 31, 2019

Unseen Skit #1: Academic Distraction (Take II)


<i.>
If you work in any creative field long enough, you're bound to have your share of offbeat experiences. About seven years ago, a close friend invited me to submit skits for a new comedy show airing in his city (Grand Rapids), right on the ABC affiliate, no less. That sounded better than the usual Craigslist crap ("WANTED: ZOMBIE EXTRAS for postnuclear romantic comedy. MINIMUM 16-HOUR SHIFT for weekend shoot. Must bring own costume and makeup. NO PAY, but free French Fries provided. GREAT EXPOSURE!"). 

I had one small reservation. "I haven't written any skits before. Well, at least not since our college days," I pointed out.

My friend just laughed. "Doesn't matter. You'll be on a writing team that'll hammer it into shape for air. You'll need to come up at least every couple of weeks, though, if you want a voice on the show. What d'you say?"

"Oh, what the hell," I shrugged. "Can't be any harder than learning the guitar, right?"

"Now you're talking!"

I felt the smell of promise in the air. Who knew where this idea might lead? I'd done the usual public access-type stuff in college, but this proposition sounded like a major step up from that era. Hell, who doesn't want to be on TV, right? Only the reluctant, and how many of those Greta Garbo wannabe types are working nowadays? Your 15 minutes of fame just might pay a few of those pesky bills.




<ii.>
I duly gave up a couple of late nights, ending up with the first attempt that you see below. (I'll post the other one when I get a free minute.) I had no ideas about "proper" script format. (See, show biz in general -- and Hollywood, in particular -- works like the Supreme Court. If the margins aren't just so, all the content isn't properly centered, and so on, they don't have to read it, apparently). 

I decided not to worry about such issues. As my friend noted, a team would polish whatever I did, so I didn't plan on getting too attached to whatever words finally got past my brain,This effort, "Academic Distraction," sends up a certain sort of low-budget ad -- one you may see running today -- from a certain company that claims to match students with potential college choices. For free, no less. Who could object to that?

But when you type in your area, the only choices that pop up are for-profit colleges -- think University of Phoenix, and so on -- whose charges are way more felonious than their two- and four-year counterparts. That spelled comedy gold to me, especially if I could link that little glitch to the sprawling student debt explosion. 

Takes I and II focused on the guitar hero living in his basement, with a parody of the theme song. That seemed less inspired than the idea of said guitar hero trying to raise his student loan payments by busking, and running into some old buddies on the street. I couldn't write too many lines for them, since I only had about five minutes to get the point across. But this version (posted below), I think, gets the point across pretty effectively.

Sadly, I've never actually seen this effort, nor the other one that I wrote ("Flags Of Unknown Nations"). Shortly after I submitted both skits, my friend indicated there'd been some sort of turmoil -- the usual "creative differences" chestnut, I reckon -- leading to a mass walkout off the show.

Still, both skits had aired, he reassured me, though he'd had to make a few changes of his own. Apparently, some people thought they were too political -- which makes sense, since the show aired at 3:30 p.m., a slot that's typically set aside for light entertainment. "Hey, if all we've done is crack one fart joke after another, not much has happened," I told my friend. "I did my best. After all, I'm learning on the job here.")

My friend said not to worry, because the show would probably return with a retooled cast or format, so I might get another crack at writing sketch comedy. That didn't happen, but not for the reason you'd suspect. Our efforts coincided with those brief halcyon days of Michigan's subsidized film program, which led to my one (and only) experience, as an extra on a movie set . 

For further reference, see my post on this issue, "Michigan Kisses Off Its Creative Class: No More Film Incentives: https://ramennoodlenation.blogspot.com/2015/08/michigan-kisses-off-its-creative.html.  And oh, yeah, enjoy the skit. Such is life. -- The Reckoner



<Academic Distraction (Take II)>

(CUE:Hip-hop-ish intro, medium break beat. 

(WIDE SHOT: BUSKER w/guitar on grimy street corner, in front of standard issue grimy wall. A container w/a sign marked,"PLEASE HELP: PAYING STUDENT LOANS," is at his feet. His appearance suggests that he hasn't slept nor looked after himself well.

(He bends to check the container, and rattles it once or twice. It's pitifully empty, as the sounds make all too clear. 

(He frowns, sighs, stands up and begins to play over break beat and scratches.)

I went to high school, kept noddin' off
Then dropped out, my bad luck
There's five jobs for every one of you
Oh, my God, what'll you do?

Now I got referred, for free
To some for-profit university
I'm drowning in a sea of debt
For some career that's never paid off yet

I got hooked up for free
Through Academic Distraction
Took my eyes off the prize
Thanks to Academic Distraction

(CUT TO MEDIUM CLOSEUP: BUSKER ON STREET CORNER.)

BUSKER: Hey, remember me? The guy who nodded off in class, dropped out, ended up sleeping in the basement? Well, I never got to be a rock star. (Hits off random off key chord.) Tuh-wannng!

I'm still sleeping in the basement. (Hits another random off-key chord.) Thanks to Academic Distraction, I'm all hooked up...for 20-thou-plus in loans, plus all the double-digit interest rates you can eat!

It doesn't even feel like real money after awhile, but it adds up fast. (Tuning up dissonantly) That's why I'm on this corner, Monday through Sunday, trying to strum up enough pennies to pay that money back!

CUT TO: BYSTANDER who walks briskly at first, then stops to stare up and down at BUSKER.)

(CLOSEUP: BYSTANDER's hand briskly feeding the required coins into his tip container.)

BUSKER: Beats saying, "You want fries with that," right? 

(CUT TO: BYSTANDER #2, stopping right behind first one. He pauses, looks BUSKER over. He sighs, shakes his head and moves on.)

BUSKER: Oh, yeah, and don't even think about skipping a payment. They keep looking, for up to 10 years!


(LONG SHOT: BYSTANDER #3 stops to size up BUSKER's appearance. Thinking better of it, he too takes a step back.)

Hey, Jim, how are you doing?

(BUSKER offers to shake BYSTANDER #3's hand. BYSTANDER #3 shakes his head, and pulls out a fiver.)


BYSTANDER #3: Wow, never imagined I'd see you here. My God, what happened? (Drops fiver into BUSKER's container.) Oh, yeah. You'll be paying that loan till you're 100-plus. Well, good luck. Get yourself something to eat!

(BYSTANDER #3 hurries out of shot, and down the street.)

BUSKER: Hey, thanks, Jim! Much obliged! (Hits random off-key chord.) Well, I'd better get back to it. Every little bit helps, right?

(CUE reprise of song. BUSKER begins to strum harder, looking left, then right, for anyone coming into tip range.)


Got front-loaded, for free
Through Academic Distraction
Got tangled up in debt
Through Academic Distraction

The interest isn't over yet
Thanks, Academic Distraction
I haven't seen the payoff yet
Thanks, Academic Distraction 

(FADE to BUSKER reprising these next lines.)

I went to high school, kept noddin' off
Then dropped out, my bad luck
There's five jobs for every one of you
Oh, my God, what'll you do?


Monday, May 27, 2019

Any Port In A Storm? Not If You're Trans, Apparently


<www.theadvocate.com>
<Who, Me? I'm Not Nappin'...>

<i.>
You can tell something about an administration by its hit lists. For Nixon, it was the press. For Reagan, it was the Sandinistas. For Bush the Elder, it was the Iraqis. For Bush the Younger, it was anyone Middle Eastern, and Social Security. For Trump, it's anyone with the T-word -- not T for Texas, but T as in Transgender. He's not keen on having them serve their country, he's not willing to give them equal access to healthcare, and now, apparently, he's not ready to accept them in homeless shelters.

That's the word from "U.S. Housing and Urban Development Secretary" Ben Carson, who's championing a rule change that would roll back the 2012 Equal Access Rule that prohibits homeless shelters and programs from discriminating "on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity." The proposed change, if it sticks, would allow providers to consider either of those factors "for the purposes of determining accommodation within such shelters and for purposes of determining sex for admission to any facility." What's more, they can also evaluate "privacy, safety, practical concerns, [and] religious beliefs" in making a determination about a person's sex. 

There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. If you don't meet Baron Bozo von Combover's hetero measuring stick, you'll just have to spend another night on the streets. And you can roam them, knowing that the decision-maker who put you there did so, because God whispered in their ears. Nothing personal, but their faith was strong, right? Such thinking would hardly raise an eyebrow in countries like Iran or Saudi Arabia. There's just one small matter, though. That's not how our democracy, as fractured and broken as it appears, is supposed to work, exactly. But I digress.


<I'm Just Busy Makin' Life...>

<ii.>
The only silver lining here, if we can call it that, is that this proposal -- like so many that this noxious regime belches up, and spews out -- is likely headed for some type of legal challenge. it's hard to imagine trans folks, or their allies, simply winking at this latest blast of legalese, one that's designed to make their lives significantly worse.

As in many cases, statistics tell their own story. According to transequality.org, one in five trans people experiences homelessness at some point in their lives, or about 20 to 40 percent at any given time. Stated another way, that's roughly 1.6 million people, a staggering number for a modern developed nation. Then again, we've lived with ever-spiraling numbers of homeless since the Reagan Eighties, so what's a million more? These facts, inconvenient as they seem, count for little in the brutish world of Trumpism, where money and power are prized above human life. (Never mind the last words of Bob Marley, who told his sons on his deathbed: "Money can't buy life.")

There's no question that young trans people would feel especially hard hit, since family rejection -- coupled with eviction from their homes -- is a common trigger of homelessness, which often coincides with violence, and other types of discrimination. Like housing, where Carson has never worked, and knows nothing about. But that doesn't stop him from plowing ahead with a measure that, again, will make life worse for millions. Because, when God whispers in your ear, anybody who gets in the way is fair game.

<...Miserable For Millions>

<iii.>
Two other aspects are worth mentioning. First, why it should surprise anyone that the announcement doesn't square with Carson's assurances to a Congressional committee that no plans existed to roll back the 2012 language? Trump can't keep his story straight, so why would any of his minions? If I were sitting on any of those bodies, I'd start with the notion that I'm not getting the whole truth, let alone a half, or even a sliver. In other words, if they told me the sun was shining, I'd go outside to check. And take my umbrella. Just in case.

From my perspective, it's hard to overstate the contempt that the Carsons of the world feel for rules and procedures. (I can't say "the Trumps," since I don't hang out in those circles, not have I interviewed any of them.) At best, they are nuisances to be gamed, or gotten around; at worst, they are obstacles to subvert, by any means necessary. If that means ducking FOIA requests, so be it. if that means lying to a committee, so be it. if that means telling a different story as each new contradictory fact emerges, so be it. Take your pick of the relevant quote here, whether it's William Henry Vanderbilt ("The public be damned"), or Abraham Lincoln ("Public sentiment is everything").

What's all the more galling, as I've already mentioned, is that the decision-maker here has no housing experience (so, in keeping with our house style, we put his title in quotes). in all fairness to Carson, he's certainly not the only know nothing cluttering up Trump's Cabinet. "Education Secretary" Betsy DeVos has never worked in a school; "Consumer Financial Protection Bureau" head Kathy Kraninger has no experience in consumer affairs, financial services or regulation, the very areas that she's tasked with overseeing. 

This same ignorance, as my sister pointed out in our weekly phone call, looms large over the rush to ban abortion in Ohio, where State Senator John Becker seriously suggested that an ectopic pregnancy can somehow be reimplanted into the uterus, or in Alabama, where State Senator Clyde Chambliss freely admitted his lack of scientific knowledge over the area he couldn't wait to impose his views. But it didn't matter, he asserted, because "from what I’ve read, what I’ve been told, there’s some period of time before you can know that a woman is pregnant… It takes some time for all those chromosomes and all that." 

Such mangled reasonings put them on par with geniuses like the late Senator Ted Stevens (R-AK), who earned raspberries all around for describing the Internet as "a series of tubes," and email technology as "an Internet," as he clumsily waded into the net neutrality debate. Even so, such gaffes didn't prompt his colleagues to yank his leadership of the committee charged with regulating the technology. Failure falls upwards, as we've seen. Especially in politics.

Multiply this confederacy of dunces by hundreds, or thousands, and you begin to realize the enormity of the damage that Carson and his kind may dish out. Such matters often end up as late night comedy fodder, but let's not allow our laughter to push the consequences out of our minds. Will we recover? Time will tell. But in the short run -- or, at least until this policy is overturned -- millions will suffer for who they are, or who they love. Nobody deserves that. --The Reckoner