Saturday, September 22, 2018

Why I Don't Post Everyday

I keep making the same mistake. I should just write these journal entries as soon as I get up in the morning, however timing is everything, and it takes about 20 minutes to get to this point even when I do that effectively. Today's mistake was reading my email first.

I'm a member of several "Lists", and one in particular mentioned something about being moderated on that particular thread. We all know our industry is incestuous, and at the same time, entertainment should NOT be political. However, most have gotten into this industry for the wrong reasons.

As a matter of public record, I rebelled against this industry for exactly that reason. I could've taken a different path growing up, and then maybe more of you would have heard of me, but as you already know, "Not too many people know that I'm famous."

I use that phrase every once in awhile to humble myself. It's almost hubris at this point, as I have a ranking on IMDb, unlike some of you. It's in the six digits, and it's not going to go up anytime soon, unless those that credit me do it properly. The call sheet should read, "Mike Shields II."

Anyone can find out how I think on a particular day by virtue of social media posts that I make either manually or automagically. That's right. One post in the wrong place, and suddenly all my followers, connections, and the like (not to be confused with "Like") will suddenly vanish. Do I become infamous at that point?

Maybe I am already. I don't know. I just know that I have work to do within the industry that was effectively chosen for me before God and everybody knew that I existed. I also vote a certain way depending on whose running. That should be who's.

The current broohaha or broowaha or however you spell it is simply about television ratings of the latest Emmy broadcast. Why have they dipped from last year a whopping 10%?

I gave my opinion, and started a thread that is currently being moderated. I was lucky enough to give my opinion first on this particular topic simply because no one else thought to reply to all. That's a bozo no no sometimes on these types of lists, as you get scolded by the list manager about a reply that should've gone to an individual via private message when you've done so.

A decision has to be made, and you have a choice. Delaying the decision, or deciding not to decide is still a choice, however after that, it's cause and effect. The Matrix Reloaded explored this very phenomenon. Remember the scene in the restaurant where the owner sent a tiramisu to a woman he fancied?

Ultimately, who decides what's right? Moral relativism is all the rage, and we all want to make money in this business we call show. The needs of the many will always outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one. There's probably a better way to write that with correct grammar, however nobody said this was a grammar lesson. Unless you did, then you're in the wrong class. That one's three blogs down on the left.

So, I'm walking a fine line. I believe in free will, and in this country, I have 1st and 2nd amendment rights. Without those two, the rest of the rest don't truly mean anything to me. My personal preference should not shade what you think about me.

Somehow, I've been put in a position of authority by virtue of my length of time pursuing fame and fortune. Did I ask for this? No. The media does this to me, and by extension, us. Everyone wants fame and fortune, but these days it seems like nobody wants to do the work to get it. Awards shows are great for acknowledgement within your particular industry, and there's a lot of cross pollenization by virtue of the fact that I was literally born into it, but again, I rebelled.

The reality is my education is well rounded as a result, and I have certain opinions that I share on more than an occasional basis, and some of you may read about them here or elsewhere. Getting paid to bloviate is great work if you can get it.

The phone rings. BRB

I could've written, "Be right back", to pad my word count, but I didn't.

So, to review, I have opinions that I write both here and elsewhere on more than an occasional basis, and you may choose to ignore them at your leisure or peril.  I may have covered the original reason why I wrote this in the first place, but that's for you to decide. Let me know in the comments.

72 and sunny in Redondo Beach. Adjust your expectations accordingly™

Thursday, September 6, 2018

Why Am I...



Not awake today, AND I HAVE WORK TO DO!!! I ACCIDENTALLY HIT CAPS LOCK TOO!!! 

Bought coffee. One sip, and I'm already jittery. WTF?!? Why isn't WTF in the spellcheck
dictionary? Who am I going to inflict these words on? What was I thinking when I told her
I was going to write a book too, and we'll see who finishes first? 

Damn me. 

Hell is where when you go there, they have to take you in. Standing up in front of a
crowd of people that you may be meeting for the first time is scary. In fact, fear of public
speaking is a fear that most of you have. I know I don't. My mom put me on stage at
what, three, maybe four years old, and I did okay. I spoke lines in another language as
well. 

I'm still attempting to figure out what year that was. Teahouse of the August Moon. Tea
House is two words? Hey, that's great. Sakini. Cho demo'd key word memorization for us
at Van Mar. I wonder why Ivan didn't ask me? Intellectually, I get it. We can't all be on
stage at the same time. Unless we can, in which case, I may have to be the one to write
that scene.

It's the big production number. Phantom has one at the beginning, and one in the middle.
Masquerade has always been my favorite. Paper faces on parade. I guess that's where
my need to emcee comes from. You can be behind the scenes, or you can be in front.
The question becomes, "Can you do both at the same time?" 

I know I can. I can compartmentalize too. It's how you make a successful 168 Project film
that goes on to bigger and better things after. Blue Blazes. Seven years ago!!! 

Damn.
 
These morning brain dumps get harder and harder. I feel like I'm writing the same stuff
over and over. What am I selling? My book. Wait! It hasn't been published yet! 

Neither has hers. It's not a race. It's a calling. We can all write. We can all read unless
you're like a toddler. At some point, we all know our alphabet. We know how to
pronounce things, and most of us can gain meaning from context. The writing discipline
means that I should be writing something every day, and all the time.

But I can't sit here 24/7. To write what you know, you have to know about it. That doesn't
come from sitting at the keyboard all day. At some point, your brain will be completely
drained. Have I written something that others want to read? 

I DON"T KNOW! 

That's for you to decide. Do you share this? Do others come here and leave a comment?
Sometimes instantaneous gratification takes too long. Everyone wants success NOW!!! 

Do the hard work first, and then maybe you'll find your passion. It took me x years to do
that, and I needed the motivation of several amazing women to get to this point. You
may even meet a few of them in the future. 

You may not know that you have. They may not be with me at the time. I could start a
list, or simply post an #FF at the appropriate day, and then you'll figure it out. However,
most aren't on Twitter, unless they are. Have we discussed how Twitter, and by extension all of social media is a drug? 

Everyone wants to be famous, however no one wants to do the work. The 'net is the
culprit. By virtue of the fact that there's almost 8 Billion, yes, that's right, Billion with a
big fat B people on the planet, not too many people know that I'm famous.

Communications and the ability to broadcast myself out to the unwashed masses as they
were called back in the day allow us to put words in some semblance of an order to
allow for others to read them. 

We all have opinions on how things should work, and most things work the way we want
them to wrote he, before he took another sip of coffee. I may need to write a poem about
the need for tea, or coffee. 

What was the movie in the 60's? Coffee, Tea, Or Me? About stewardesses and how they were selling not only over priced liquor onboard, but themselves to the various passengers. 1969 is the year I remember, however that's ayear or two after I became self aware for the first time....

Well, that's the required. This will be posted elsewhere for commentary. Hope to see you
there!!!