The Matchmaker Mailman
Now growing up was one of those things you can only appreciate when you look back in time. I was one of those kids that had to buy "husky" size pants. I was a short, fat, shy kid. I got the glasses in sixth grade. I liked to spend time by myself. I grew to love TV and movies. You never had to worry about a VHS tape calling you "Porky."
My Mom still has one of those school bus shaped picture frames. Each grade in school you put your picture. Well third grade looked like I became anorexic. It was the year my parents divorced.
I don't think my Mom ever got over the divorce. I was never that close to the man who was my Father. He was never around. The one thing I do remember was when he would laugh and tell my Mom I needed a training bra. No, I was glad to see him go. My Mom did the typical girt decision and married the first "bad boy" that came along. She told me later the marriage was over after six months. Luckily, they made it ten years. Much to my self esteem's beating.
The other great part about my life was I was named after him. i was a Junior. I never got that. I gave my son his own name. He is his own person, I want him to make his own roads in this world. I got to follow in the footsteps of a low life drunk. I remember being in middle school and having a teacher come up and ask me how I was doing. I was great, he was gone. That night I would hear my Mom talking on the phone about how his name was in the paper for getting a DWI. I put the two together and can only wonder what my teacher thought.
I was always a good student, never did anything but be quiet. I did my work, and got good grades. 1 never realty participated much in school. A shy kid wants no attention on him. I remember distinctly the day in first grade. We had to color in pictures of our pets. Well, my cat was named Bluie. He was a cool cat. He was so gray he looked blue. So, I colored his picture blue. My teacher made a loud and classroom wide example of how cats cannot be blue. Never raised my hand again. Ask anyone who saw him, that cat was blue.
So you get the point, shy kid.
Then throw in the fact that George Lucas came out with a little film called STAR WARS, BAM! That's what I want to do when I grow up. Get in line, right. I know, but to a kid who is either a joke, or a shadow and the idea of becoming someone else is the chance you dream of. So when I got to high school I starting writing. I had this Brother word processor. I use to fill up disk after disk with stories and ideas. If I would have wrote about my life I would have hit it big. But, who wants everyone to know what your really thinking when your sixteen. So I wrote stories about aliens, and spys.
Now high school is supposed to be the best days of your life. First of al! that's bullshit! If you can survive high school the rest of life is a cake walk. While everyone else was partying, and applying for college I had my own ordeals going on.
Being a child of divorce your close to Mom, and living up the street from my grandparents they were like my second parents. My Grandpa was my male father figure. I spent more time with him that anyone. He was a good man. I never heard him swear, and never saw him raise a hand to anyone. He is never far from my thoughts.
My Mom got laid off for the first time when I was in seventh grade. She would lose her job for good after I finished high school. My junior year my Grandma had been diagnosed with breast cancer. The worst was my Grandpa. He didn't know where he was at my high school graduation. He had Alzhiemers. He would die five years later.
So the time when everyone was going on to start their own lives. I decide to put school off for a year and stick close to home. I got a job working at the newly opened supermarket.
After all that time in school it was nice to be free. I spent every free moment writing ideas, stories, scripts. It took me away from the brutal reality of life. Mom didn't know where she would go. Gram made a great recovery and is still alive today. Gramp fell quickly into a dark haze of nothingness. So I would write. I would work second shift, come home and write all night long. Then steep ati day, I was twenty. It was cool.
At the time the most powerful talent agency in the world was CAA in LA The hottest agent in town as Jay Moloney. So who should I send my script to? Why not him?
I was twenty, had glasses and a full beard. I looked forty. But, to a shy guy this job made me meet people. And, being a college town that was co-eds. Life was good, the shell of shyness was stowiy cracking.
Then the day that would change my life forever. My Mom was laid off at the time. I had been given the job of Reciever while the regular was on vacation. (got home around three when Mom told me someone named "Wendy" had called from CAA. She said she would call back. WHAT? Someone from CAA called me here! WHAT? I was in another world. This is like a movie. I sent a script. It got into someone's hands and they liked it. I'm in. Well, Wendy never called back. Actually when I tried calling, they didn't know anyone named Wendy. But noone ever knew 1 sent anything to CAA. I never told anyone about sending Jay Moloney a script. What the hell was that. Some years later Jay Moloney would die way before his time They say that the best way to remember someone is to never forget them. I never met him. Yet I wonder if I could have, all the time.
Now I never told you what the script I sent him was about. It was called Civil Servant. It was about a Mailman. It was the story of a divorced "Runner" who would run his route then go and spend time with his son. A power hungry supervisor followed him. He tried to get him fired, but instead got the Mailman transfered to NYC where he would spend all day inside the buildings. He eventually went on to save the live a a very famous person and got his old job back.
This was 1992,1 didn't take the test to get into the Post Office until 1997. Funny how things work out? I didn't know the first thing about the Post Office, yet the story was very accurate. It was weird foreshadowing that seems to follow me.
So I kept stocking the shelves at the local supermarket, i was even named employee of the month there. But I kept writing. That call had me dreaming of bigger things- I was not living the dream. In fact the days were dark for my family.
My Grandfather was getting worse. The only choice my Gram had was to put him in the Vets home. I stilt feel that day was more grim then the day he past. He sat in the chair as we all said our goodbyes. Now my Grandpa had only left his beloved Greylock once in his life. That was to join the Army and serve in WWIS. He didn't know where he was, and I didn't know us.
It was a very, very sad day. One I will never forget.
Gram was doing good. She survived her first bout with breast cancer. Mom had lost her job for good. She was taking classes to keep her unemployment going. I offered to put a good word in for her at the supermarket. She claimed she was too "shy" to work with the public. I was shy as well it actually was one of the best things for me. I took back at how many times the college girls were flirting with me. I was so broke, and I almost felt embarrassed working there.
It was a good job, it is a good company, I just felt like I had something more in me. Did I realty want to put myself through the ordea! of going out with a smart girl, and knowing I was going to never have a chance. Looking back it was a weak excuse for avoiding it, but it made sense at the time.
So I was still sending out my script, Civil Servant. The next person I sent it to was the head of King World, Brandon Tartikoff. You might remember the name, he was the former head of NBC. It was a very different world back then. No internet, no youtube. The best way to make it into Hollywood was to write a kick ass script No way Brandon Tartikoff even sniffs my letter right? A few months later I get the manditory thank you, but no thank you letter from King World. So what does it say? "You script is a modem day fairytale. Keep sending it out someone will see that. But, we're not in the movie business. Sincerely Brandon Tartikoff." Your shittin me right! He read my script and call it a "modern day fairytale." He didn't read, someone in his office read it, right. I have got to get to LA. I don't have any money, i don't know anyone. So the next morning while driving to work listening to PYX 106 in Albany, NY the Mason and Sheehan morning show is going to LA for a week. Listeners can go on the weeklong trip. Sign me up. Only problem was I was not old enough to rent a car. Do you know what it's like in LA without a car? My Mom actually put the car in her name. She know I wanted this bad. She also know it was only a week. What could go wrong.
At the time that was the best week of my life. The morning show was spending the week at Bamie's Beanery, I never made it there. I spent my days going on studio tours, I hit Zuma, saw the Stars in Hollywood, and made it to King World headquarters. So what happened? I had my letter and that was the fast pass to the boss's suite. I made it Brandon Tartikoffs office. Now all I wanted was to thank him for the letter. I just wanted to see the man and know that he actually read my script. I gave the secretary the letter, she read it quick and then excused herself into his office. I was looking good. I had bought a pinstriped Brooks Brothers suit at the outlets in Lee. I looked like I was more than I was. I think most people in LA took tills way. So I waited and she returned. "Mr. Tartikoff would like to thank you for coming, but he can not see you." She said. I stood up. "I understand, can I get the letter back. It means a lot to me." Her response, "Oh, you'll need to write to the legal department that is property of King World." I was like, what? I just want the letter back. But, no I was escorted to the door. Now, why is it I get within reach, then it's always riped away. I was down but not out.
That afternoon I went for a walk in Runyun Canyon walking trail. I can't wait to take my Wife and Son there. I remember the view of the city. The lizards sunnying themselves on the rocks. I remember walking by Rebecca Gayheart, the actress. I think she was on 90210 ften, not sure. I thought she was checking me out, damn I love it here. It wasn't until a large African American man was jogging down and stopped to talk to me. He was very funny as he asked me where I was from. I told him MA. He told me it wasn't a good idea to wear my bright blue jersey in LA, It might get me killed. Now the country hick I was, I had my Drew Bledsoe jersey on. Still have his rookie card. I thought the ladies were checking me out. I must have been I looked like a Gang banger out for a walk?
I never saw anyone from the radio trip. I used to hear them come back late from partying. That was the last thing on my mind. I was trying to get my foot in the door.
I called home a few times to check with everyone. It was strange on the Wedensday of the trip no one was home. They must be out. It wasn't until the next day when I called and my Gram was crying. My Grandfather had fallen at the Vets home. He had a broken hip and had to be taken to the hospital and had surgery. What could I do? I was having the time of my life. Three thousand miles away, the only Father I ever had was having surgery. My family was a mess. It was one of many times where it felt like it was never in my cards to have my dreams come true. t tryed to enjoy the last few days. I took the Univeral Studios tour by myself. It was still fun. Discovered a love for Jack in the Box, and spent hours driving up and down PCH. If you take out my Grandpa's fall it was a great week.
The next week everything was back to normal. I was stocking shelves. My Grandpa was doing better and LA was a million miles away.
A year or so later I decided I needed some school to help me get going. A local school had a TV production one year program offered. I had quit the supermarket a while back. I still don't know why. I was working in a local greenhouse for nothing. But, because they paid me nothing, I was allowed to leave early for night classes at the school, (t was a cool class. They had a AVID editor, and I made my first short film. It was called The American Dream. It was a short about a guy who was addicted to scratch off lottery tickets. My best was a commercial about a Serial Kilter who has a bad case of Athlete's foot. Just when he almost got to the victim he stopped to scratch his "Killer Athlete's Foot." I thought it was pretty damn smart, I tried to get in as a intern at the local TV station. Because I didn't have any traditional schooling they all declined. Never knew they turned down free labor.
I bounced from job to job for a while. I just couldn't get anyone to take a chance on me. It was a very scary time. My Gram asked my Uncle to get me an interview with one of his friend's who was the boss at a local construction company. I went to tile interview and never heard anything. It was for a laborer, I could do the job. I wanted the job. You think when someone knows you. Knows you cut the grass for your Mom and your Gram since you were ten years old. You tell the guy your nephew is a good worker. I never understood why I didn't get that job.
The one thing that I did have going for me was my family. Everyone invited me to weddings and parties. Everyone always asked my Gram if I had a job yet. With time you took back and wonder if that was concern or happiness for my failure. I went to every party, every wedding.
I bought gifts for every baby born. I was living wfth Mom. I gave her my paycheck. I kept a little for myself. The dating life was none. It just wasn't the right time. I was still writing. I used to write for hours about my life.
One of the worst jobs I had was trying to sell cars. I worked at a large dealer in town. It sucked! Not only did you sit around, but you have to be a total dick to sell cars. I worked for two months. Sold one used car, and never saw the commission. I was told it went to the saleman these people always deal with. That was the day I quit.