Friday, August 9, 2013

"Walk With Me."

*No humor tonight. At least, not much. Sorry.*

She took my hand and said, "Walk with me."

This afternoon, that gesture and those three, little words sent my heart into my throat.

I had heard the rumors and rumblings. I understood that some sort of change was in the air. It wasn't a matter of "Will there be a change?" It was a question of, "How radical will the change be?"

I'm contractually prohibited from discussing details about the projects that I work on. So please forgive me if I am a bit cryptic and uncharacteristically un-forthecoming tonight.

I might also add that you may notice that I have eschewed the usual "third person" self-reference, much like I do when I write a eulogy.

Because that is where my head and heart are at, right now.

I am in a sad frame of mind.

(If you know me personally, you can probably figure out what and who I'm talking about. If you don't, well, maybe in a month or two, I can clarify.)

This morning, in an informal meeting with my immediate boss, in a hallway in an office building in an historic Hollywood movie and television studio, I was assured that whatever degree that change was, (and no one was committing, at that point, to what that degree might be. Maybe because, at 8:30 this morning, no one really knew, for sure. Or, maybe, because that's just how it goes in Hollywood,) that my own situation would not change much at all. Except that I can expect to be making a few new friends in the near future.

And that is a good thing, as far as it goes.

So, it wasn't like I didn't see it coming.

Never-the-less, minor or radical, the coming change wasn't going to make me happy. That much, I knew.

All day long, as the optimism lobe of my brain kept telling me that everything was going to be fine...

A voice kept replaying in a loop, over and over, in my head.

It was "Ren and Stimpy's" Mr. Horse.

                                                                   "I don't like it at all."

We have been together for five years, she and I. Longer than that, if you count the slow, year or two "roll out" and pilot that led to these past five years. So, let's say seven years. That feels more accurate.

And, at approximately 12:30 PM, as she headed toward the stage exit...

She took my hand and said, "Walk with me."

And we walked.

She put her arm around my waist. And, I put my arm around her shoulder.

And we walked. And we talked.

This was an unusually intimate moment for us.

I am pretty sure that the last time we were this demonstrative of our mutual affection was the night that she got on a plane to a very dangerous part of the world, and I was legitimately worried about her safety. 


On another TV show that I work on, the subject came up, with a guest in my make-up chair, that I worked with this person. The guest said, "Oh! She is so beautiful! Is she as nice as she seems?"

I answered, "Between you and me, I have, sort of, a secret crush on her."

A coworker overheard that and said, 'Yeahhhh. It's not much of a secret."


*End Digression*

"So," I asked, "What's going on?"

"This is it," she said. "I'm done here."

Her five year contract was up. And, eleventh hour negotiations with the company fell apart.

It happens. That's show business,

She went on.

"I didn't tell you this morning, because... well... you know."

I do know.

She is not one for long, tearful good-byes.

I pulled it together and sniffed back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"But," she said, "Whatever my next project is, you know who will be the first person I call."

I sniffed some more.

We hugged.

Then we hugged, again.

And then, we hugged one more time, for good measure.

And she said, "I love you, you know. And it's been a great ride, this past five years."

Now, I am struggling to keep my shit together.

"I will not cry. I will not cry."

And I said, "I love you back, you know. And it has been that."

She headed to the parking lot. I headed back to the stage.

We will see each other again. I am sure of it.

But, tonight, there is a hole in my heart.

And I am feeling a bit of grief,  as if I have lost a member of my family.


On a completely different note and shifting of gears...

Evidently, the greedy, petty cock-biters at

(Not to be confused with the greedy, petty cock-biters at Time Warner Cable...)

...Have caught on to the whole anonymous web proxy thing, and have figured out a way to block the download of their video player to anyone who tries to access their video content via that route.

So, disregard the advice The PC shared a couple of nights ago.

The Blog has tried a couple of web proxy sites, tonight. With no luck.

CBS seems to have successfully prevented TWC subscribers from accessing their content.

As mentioned in that earlier post, TWC is sending a tech crew out the The Blog House to hook up antennas. So, score one for TWC and zero for CBS.

But, a funny thing has occurred to The Blog.

While about half of CBS' programing...

(Their one hour "episodics" i.e., "NCIS:LA...") 

... are produced by CBS' parent company's sister subsidiary, Paramount Studios...

...their top rated sit-coms...

 ...i.e. anything from Chuck Lorre...

... are produced by Warner Bros. Television.

A subsidiary of...

...wait for it...

Time Warner.

*The Blog Predicts*

This dispute will be settled before the fall season begins.

Because neither side has a choice.

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