Tag Archives: Stories

The Podcast – Episode 6

Hey all,

Episode 6 is live. It’s called ‘Key Fob Police’. It explores why my eyes are so itchy, and the conspiracy around why my Key Fob won’t open my trunk when I need it. I also tell a ‘back in the day’ story about my friend and I wandering into a police recruitment session.

You can find this episode of Thoughts and Rants in Jogging Pants just about anywhere you would find your podcasts, or…….

thoughtsandrantsinjoggingpants.buzzsprout.com

This is NOT an April Fools Joke!


That Time I Was An Actor In a Kick-Ass Movie

Recently I got the opportunity of a lifetime. Have you ever dreamed about being an actor? Then done sweet shit all to make that dream come true? Then still dreamed because that’s what you do, thinking maybe some crazy movie director will just ‘discover’ you, and put you in their film? Yeah, that kind of happened to me, and this is that story…….

OK, I did embellish a bit. The movie director probably wouldn’t appreciate being called ‘crazy’, although he probably wouldn’t mind either. He didn’t really discover me, as we’ve been friends for years, and it’s probably playing it up a bit to suggest I’ve always dreamed of being an actor, but who hasn’t just a bit? It would be cool, right?

There’s a lot of back story stuff in a previous blog which outlines my desire to be a paid entourage member of this particular movie director and his cinematographer (although I don’t think they get as rich). Here is the link to that blog…. https://thoughtsandrantsinjoggingpants.com/2013/09/30/ridin-coattails/

Assuming you’re all caught up, the story begins like this…. I’m having drinks with my buddy (Director Trevor Juras who is going to be famous soon, I’m sure of it), and we’re talking about some of his short films (because that’s all he’d done up to that point). I had noticed that he’d used a couple of mutual friends for small roles in one of his shorts, and even though they weren’t actors, they had done a good job with their roles. I was probably beating around the bush a bit, and hinting that I would make myself available for such a gig if after all, he would use the odd amateur actor going forward. He got a bit of a grin on his face like he’d been expecting me to say something like that for a while, and said ‘You wanna do some acting?’ Of course man… who wouldn’t? ‘I’ll definitely keep you in mind’ he said. The way it’s written that kind of sounds like a blow-off, but I believed him, and never brought it up again.

Some time passed, and we were hanging out again. Trevor was getting ready to do his first full length feature film called “The Interior”. He said he had something for me. It was one scene, but had a good chunk of dialogue. The movie was described to me as a Horror Film, but my scene would be in the mix with the early character development stuff, which is actually pretty funny if you ask me. The scene is a lot of fun which contrasts the rest of the film which is significantly darker. The dialogue was written with me in mind, and when I got a chance to read it, I knew none of it was going to be too much of a stretch for me. I knew this character pretty well. So I was very excited.

They went to British Columbia to shoot most of the movie in a forested area of a beautiful (or scary) island. I don’t want to give too much away, but the main character is in self-imposed isolation out in the woods when freakiness ensues. The first 20 minutes of the film, including my part were shot in and around Toronto. My scene was the last to be filmed, so everybody involved was pretty jacked, but also really tired. My character ‘Roland’ basically gives the main character an interview for his ‘rock-bottom’ job. It was a really fun scene to shoot, mainly because everyone thought it was hilarious. I don’t know what it’s like shooting non-comedy scenes, but the mood has to be a little different. Don’t get me wrong, everyone was very focused and professional, but considering what their schedule had been like that weekend which included multiple shoots in several locations around the city, I thought they were in great spirits when we were working.

I was a little nervous at first. It was my first and only time acting in front of a camera. I’d met a few of the people before. The cinematographer Othello Ubalde is a great friend of mine, and I’ve met his team members before. The director is obviously my buddy, and one of the other actors they used in that scene is another one of Trevor’s friends who I’ve met several times. It was just the star of the film Patrick McFadden, and producer Peter Kuplowsky who I was meeting for the first time. I knew my lines pretty well, but they were far from totally memorized. Things had been hectic at work leading up to the shoot, and on my day off that I was going to devote to rehearsing, I ended up in the hospital with my mom who was having some health issues at the time. I wasn’t as prepared as I wanted to be, but because my character was giving a job interview, it made sense that there would be a sheet to read questions off of. That sheet saved me. I had way more on that sheet than those questions. Patrick and I rehearsed a few times while they were setting up the shot, and to be honest, it made me feel a lot more confident to do those dress rehearsals a few times, and by the first take I felt like I was giving them good stuff right away. The most notable thing about acting in a movie scene that you wouldn’t otherwise know, is just how many people are in the room with you. My scene seems to be in an office with 3 people. There were 5 other people in that room, with lights and cameras and giant microphones. I didn’t consider how difficult it would be to pretend they weren’t there, even though they were set up about 2 feet away from Patrick who I was supposed to be making eye contact with. It takes a lot of focus. That was the #1 thing I learned that day. Can you imagine what a big budget Hollywood set must be like?

After the shooting comes the editing, and a thousand other processes that I was fortunate to not be a part of. Poor Trevor probably got a text from me at least twice a week asking when it will be done, and when can I see it, and all that impatient childish nonsense. I can’t lie to you people. I’ve been excited about this all year. This is a feature-length film, and I acted in it. This is a definitive stroke off the bucket list. Everything else is gravy. I’m very excited for my friends who poured their blood, sweat and tears into this project. That alone would make me excited, but I can’t overstate enough, how stoked I am that I’m acting in it. That is fun shit people! FUN SHIT!! So where do we go from here?

Festival Time! So with Trevor’s first short film garnering some attention, and getting into a few Film Festivals, we’re obviously hoping for the same thing for ‘The Interior’, and we are in luck! ‘The Interior’ premiered at The Fantasia International Film Festival in Montreal on July 27th of this year. At that point, I hadn’t even seen the movie. Montreal is too close to Toronto to pass that up, so my wife and son took a little trip with me out to Montreal, which ironically we were thinking of doing anyways for my wife’s birthday. Her birthday was the week before, so we slid the trip over to make sure we were there for the premiere. This trip no longer was happening on my wife’s birthday, and I just want to officially nominate her for wife-of-the-year award in front of the blogging world, for allowing me to make her birthday about me somehow.

Going to the premiere was so much fun. Trevor, Peter, Othello, and Patrick were there, as well as Jake who acted in some of the B.C. stuff. We showed up at the movie theatre, and there was reserved seating for the cast and crew. Like the amateur that I am, I secretly was getting a kick out of that while trying to look like I wasn’t getting a kick out of that. I didn’t even have to pay for my seat. It was getting better all the time. On an interesting side-note, Kevin Bacon was to be at this festival the following night for his movie ‘Cop Car’ which they were taking around. So if I’m ever playing the game “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon”, I’m going with this story.

Watching the movie was the best part of all. I’d intentionally not watched it up to that point. Not that I had access to it, but I’d seen a few clips at Trevor’s place at an early editing phase, and probably could have begged to see more. I thought it would be fun to watch it on the big screen with fresh eyes, and while I knew the story a bit, I had no idea how it ended. My part came up pretty early, and by the time I saw myself onscreen, I had almost forgotten that I was in the movie. I think that’s a great testament to how much I enjoyed the film. I was really into it, and then boom, there I was on the screen. My part was over not long after it had started, and I was able to focus and enjoy the rest of the film.

After the film we all went up on stage for a short Q&A session, and then headed off to a pub that was sponsoring the event, so even though it was a Monday night in Montreal, this place was busy until 3 am. It was fun to see the guys from the film get their props from the various people that had attended. I was even approached by a couple of strangers to be congratulated, the most notable of which happened out on the street when I was alone, and stumbling back to my hotel room. Wow, I got recognized on the street as an actor for probably the only time in my life. Even though that person had obviously been at the screening…… don’t ruin it for me, it happened. Never can I recall 6 hours of work translating into so much for me. It was too much fun.

Man, the film’s good. I’m so proud of my guys. The movie is visually stunning. Particularly the stuff they did in the forest. It’s both the most beautiful place you’ve seen, and somehow the most terrifying all at the same time. There’s nothing conventional about the story or how it plays out, which is refreshing to me. It’s pretty dark, but doesn’t have the cheesy horror clichés, and keeps just enough of its sense of humour along the way. It treats the viewer as an intelligent being, and doesn’t tell you what to think or feel. There’s no Hollywood gift wrapping at the end either.

I hope you’ll seek out ‘The Interior’, and try to watch it at some point. It will be difficult to do that in the short-term, unless it comes to a movie festival in your town. It’s set to play the Saskatoon Fantastic Film Festival on October 3rd, and there are whispers of potentially additional festivals coming up as well, although that’s all that’s official at the time I’m writing this. That said, at some point it will become available to the general public, and when it does, please check it out.

For more info and social media handles, visit http://www.theinteriorfilm.com

Oh, and here’s a link to the trailer. I made it in somehow. I’m the guy that looks like he’s saying something very emphatically.


And The Paranoia Begins…..

I went out for a beer last night with a friend of mine. One of those friends who you share old stories with, and then near the end of the night when you start doing the math, you realized that most of the things you talked about happened more than half your life ago which makes you feel old and weird. Nevertheless, these little beer nights seem few and far between for whatever reason, and the last thing I wanted was for either of us to get killed, but I’ll get to that later.

We’re at a bar that I’ve been to a few times before. One of the best beer selections I’ve seen, and they keep the pricing very reasonable considering the rarity of some of the beers they have. Great beer, low price is a fantastic business model if you ask me. I’ll give them all the money I can spare. The food wasn’t as good as I’d remembered, but you can’t have it all. The waitress was cute, and did a good job answering our questions. We had a nice spot right near the front of the restaurant beside a window. Life was good, and we were having a good time catching up, when the paranoia sets in.

A guy in his mid 50s comes in with a sandwich board looking sign over his shoulders that says “What Is Love?” He stands right near the front door, which is basically right near us. I’m waiting to see what sort of disturbance he’s going to cause. We were in downtown Toronto, which is really safe by large urban metropolis standards, but there are still quite a few weirdos out there, and on a scale of 1 to 10 in terms of weird parts of town, this bar was located between 8.5 and 9. At first I thought maybe this guy was homeless, but with the sign and all, he’s clearly got a bee in his bonnet. Perhaps he’s protesting something. Or maybe he’s selling flowers. He took the sign off his shoulders to take a little rest. I didn’t see any flowers under there. Have you ever had someone sell you flowers in a restaurant? Not on a Wednesday. He seemed like he was waiting for someone, but he didn’t grab a table (it was seat yourself). Then he went outside for a second. Not for a cigarette, just to do it. Then he came back in and stood. Near our table no less. All of which caused my friend and I to have the following conversation which I sort of remember sounding like this…….

Me: Do you see this guy?
Him: Yeah. What is Love?
Me: Baby don’t hurt me….don’t hurt me….no more….(you won’t get that unless you’re between 38 and 43, so let’s move on)
Him: What do you think?
Me: I think we’re gonna get stabbed. This is the beginning of Fisher King all over again.
Him: Yeah, you might be onto something. Although he doesn’t look too crazy. More like a recluse.
Me: I know. Those are the ones. The ones that look really crazy get arrested more often because people see it coming. This guy? What is Love? Nobody will see it coming, and then on the news the police will be all mystified. The neighbors will be like ‘he was so quiet’.
Him: Should we get our next round somewhere else?
Me: I don’t know. Let’s wait it out for a bit. I’ve still got half a beer left. It’s really good. Do you want a sip?
Him: Sure. Why is he carrying the sign around? Was there a march we didn’t know about? What is he protesting?
Me: He’s protesting happiness man…. He’s gonna off everybody in here that looks happy, and he’s gonna start with us.
(Waitress approaches…..by now the guy has taken a seat, but he’s facing us, and he’s opened a laptop)
Me: Oh, hey…..
Waitress: Do you guys want another beer?
Him: Uhh we’re just debating that right now. We’re kind of concerned that the guy behind you with the sign is going to open fire on the entire restaurant. What’s with that sign?
Waitress: I know, right? He’s been in here before, I think he’s waiting for somebody.
Me: I feel like there’s a button on that computer that is going to blow up this entire street if he presses it, and he’s just deciding whether to or not.
Waitress: I’m pretty sure he’s harmless.
Me: Lower your voice, he might be the type that could hear a pin drop from a mile away. We might be one ill-advised comment away from getting it…… In the meantime, bring us 2 more.
Waitress: OK. (Leaves)
Him: So, what are we going to do if the shit goes down? At least we’re close to the exit.
Me: Keep your bottle within reach.
Him: Maybe we should change the subject.

So the story ends like this…… This fairly attractive black lady comes in and she has to be 15 years younger than him. She gives him a full on kiss on the mouth, picks up the sign even, and walks with him toward the back of the bar where there was more privacy. I debated whether to include her race because it doesn’t matter, but I do think it adds to the ‘that was the very last thing I was expecting’ vibe of the story. She seemed as normal as can be. There were guys in their 20’s in this bar whose dates weren’t nearly as attractive, but she came for this strange older dude with a sandwich board strapped to him. I always think I’ve seen it all. When the waitress came around I asked what they were drinking. Him tea, and her tequila neat. I should have bought them a round just to hear their story. I’ll bet it’s fascinating.

I don’t know how this whole thing reads for someone who doesn’t know me. I really wasn’t overly concerned, but was more just having jokes with my buddy. That said, there’s always some element of truth. I was staying mentally prepared just in case this guy was a psycho, because you NEVER know. On the opposite end of my learnings, the theme of not judging a book by its cover was present here as it always seems to be in life.


He Didn’t Know

My father died this day 2 years ago. When he woke up in the morning that day, he didn’t know it would be his last day. When the alarm clock went off, he didn’t know it would be the last time he’d listen to CFRB talk radio. When he had his last breakfast, and his last cup of morning tea, he had no idea they would be his last. When he did his morning routine, and picked out a suit for the day, and consulted his wife on which tie to wear, he didn’t know that was the last suit he’d wear. When his wife read him my blog, and he laughed his ass off (thank goodness it was one of my better ones), he didn’t know that would be the last one he’d ever read. When he kissed his wife good-bye and told her what time he would be home for dinner, he didn’t know he wouldn’t be home for dinner, or that he wouldn’t see her again. When he drove his car to the train station and found the most ridiculous parking spot outside of a Tim Horton’s, that was nowhere near the station parking lot, he didn’t know that less than 12 hours later a priest would be driving me around for over an hour trying to find that car (unsuccessfully).

As his excitement mounted for the birth of my son, his first grandchild, due to arrive the following day, he didn’t know he would never get to meet him in person. He really didn’t know that a year later, his daughter would provide a second grandchild. When he saw us for the last time for a family dinner a few days prior, he didn’t know it would be the last one. When he went golfing for the last time, he didn’t know that it would be. The last ballgame he watched, the last restaurant he ate at, the last time he went to church, the last time he drove up to his hometown. He did all of those things, and entered all of those places with the same smile and enthusiasm that he’d always had. He didn’t know.

Sad.

Here are a few other things he didn’t know. He never knew loneliness or abandonment. He was well-loved, and a very popular guy. He never experienced the kind of disease and illness that take many lives in such a slow, painful and unforgiving way. He died fairly quickly, without a lot of advance notice. In a lot of ways it was a blessing. He died handsome in a suit, and a lot of people aren’t fortunate enough to go out like that. While trying to cope with this I’ve always reminded myself that I don’t think I would have liked to see him deteriorate. To have some extra time with him, would it have been worth it? Probably. I really wish he got to see his grandchildren, but not if it meant that he would be too sick to enjoy them. Not my call though.

What if he knew all of these things? When he was going to die approximately. When he would experience all of these ‘lasts’. Would it have been better? Would he have enjoyed those moments any more? Or would they have just been filled with incredible sadness and grief. Who knows? I just instinctively feel like somehow I was lucky to have as much time with him as I did, but without having to watch it all fall apart slowly. I kind of like that the last time I saw him didn’t feel like the last time.


OH, I’ve Had Some New Year’s Eve Moments In My Day

So last night was kinda cool. A little better than last year. Last year we had a baby who was about 2.5 months old. New Year’s Eve involved all three of us lying in bed watching TV, and at least 2 of us being fully asleep by the time the new year rolled in. I thought that was kind of lame, but I also feel like we deserve to not be judged during the ‘100 days of hell’ that a new child brings with. We needed our sleep more than we needed to party. This year, same kind of thing. Everyone except me is sick, and I’m totally worn out from working way too much over the last couple of weeks. I guess we could have gone out, but it would have required a baby-sitter, and it’s kind of mean to ask someone to babysit on New Year’s Eve. Last night my wife and I went to ‘The Cheese Boutique’, which is my favourite ‘Fine Foods’ store, and got some great stuff for a fun little stay in ‘wine & cheese party’ to which nobody was invited. Thanking my mom here for the gift certificate. I drank Ice Wine and ate exotic cheeses from around the world while we watched ‘Viva Las Vegas’ on TV. Actually, now that I’ve just said that out loud, I’m gonna go pour myself another glass of that Ice Wine while I finish writing this…. hang on…….ok, I’m back. Sounds kind of fun, right?? I mean, it’s not super lame, is it??

I just got to looking at Facebook, and seeing all of the great party pictures from those that went out, and kind of felt bad that I don’t go out anymore. It is a transitional time, mind you. We’ve got the young boy, and with both of us working hard at work, and at home, it’s not easy to find the energy to go out like we once did. I decided to write this post to remind the world, and mainly myself that WE ONCE DID!!

New Year’s Eves past have been some of the CRAZIEST nights of my life! I would say that there was probably a time in my life when it was my favourite day of the year. It started as a child. I guess that was the only night I was allowed to stay up until midnight for the first few years. I was an obsessive nerd for pop music in the 80’s, and on New Year’s Eve, you could always count on a radio station or a TV show counting down the top songs of the year. I don’t know how other people didn’t see it this way, but to me, that was the most important information in the world! To the point where I actually still remember some of it.

As I got older, and reached the legal drinking age, it became necessary to go to some sort of night club party which involved buying tickets ahead of time, only to pay 4 to 5 times the cover charge I would have normally paid to get into a night club. It was also necessary to have a pre-party somewhere, so we could get as much alcohol into us as possible, so we didn’t have to buy as many drinks at the club. We always had a plan to get home so nobody had to drive, but that often lead to other kinds of adventure.

I felt like I could tell a few of these stories, but the set up alone already has me at 600 words. I realize that each of these stories could be a blog post on its own. When I think back, all the memories are rushing back to me, and I can’t even believe it was all real.

In no particular order……
– I remember one year going to a club, and leaving sometime after last call only to find out the subway system had stopped running, and we had to find an all night bus which would take us home, except since we lived in the next city over, the night bus (which was packed 3 times before we got on it) only went to the edge of Toronto, so we had to cab it back to Mississauga at 6 in the morning, except it took the cabs 1.5 hours to get to the convenience store that we tried to wait inside of. I think we all got home OK.

– I remember having a girlfriend who when drunk would either puke, pass out or both. Getting her home safely was always tricky, and I know the time she barfed on the subway in front of my friends wasn’t one of my favourite moments (especially when it splashed up on my shoe).

– I remember renting a hotel room for the purposes of having a little get together for any of my friends who were downtown hitting the night clubs. This way my girlfriend (later wife) and I could hang out with some people for a while, but they would all take off and go to their respective parties, and the two of us could stay in. Until the hotel unveiled a new policy for New Year’s Eve that stated that you could not enter the building unless you had a room key. I understood why…. they wanted to avoid hotel parties, but you gotta tell me that before I give you my money!!! I planned my whole night around that. My guests were being turned away at the door. I went downstairs to yell at the hotel manager, and if I tell you good people that I’ve had less than five ‘lose my mind very publicly at extreme volume’ moments in my life, this was one of them.

– I remember at another hotel party (except this time the hotel was actually throwing the party, and we had tickets, so this was pre-party, in the room shenanigans), my buddy’s sister (who had never spent New Year’s with us before) was getting hammered and toasting EVERYTHING. The famous words of the night were ‘Guys, this is the best New Year’s EVER!!!!’ After a chat with the porcelain puke collector, she was in her bed, fast asleep at 11:15 pm. She has never lived it down.

– I remember the time we rented a cottage 3.5 hours outside of the city because it was Y2K, and all the computers were supposed to malfunction, and send the world into darkness etc. Bizarre moments include a friend falling down a flight of stairs and being so drunk that he ‘didn’t feel a thing’. Having a bottle of champagne (or sparkling wine more likely) shaken, and unloaded into my chest by a girl I had never met before, and never saw again. I remember all of these so-called ‘party animals’ were asleep with the lights off before 2 am on January 1st, 2000. I remember me being in the parking lot, and coming in to find the lights were off and the party was over, and LOSING MY FUCKING SHIT because it is unacceptable for a party to end that early on December 31st 1999 even if it was the 2nd straight day of drinking and carrying-on, I’m getting upset just typing this (This was also one of the five moments, but I’m in no way embarrassed about this outburst since it was among friends, and they had it coming). I wanted to party like it was 1999. Do you know how many times I’ve said that, but IT ACTUALLY WAS 1999!! These people were asleep!!!! I’m getting angry just thinking about it. I swear if you were with these people in their poopy little University town on a cold February night, they can stay at the bar until 3 am, make you suffer through McDonald’s drive thru, and crack beers when you get back to their residence. On the greatest party night of all time, however….. lights out at 2 am!! Sidenote #1, earlier that day as we drove to a convenience store (that was 30 minutes away…ughhh), my windshield wiper flew off into a snow bank. Not just the wiper blade…. the arm of it actually snapped off, and the whole thing flew into a fresh bank of snow, not unlike a boomerang. My friend in the back (when he stopped laughing) asked if I was going to stop the car, and I deadpanned “I’ll get it on the way back” (which he thinks to this day is the funniest thing I’ve ever said). Sidenote #2, On my way back from getting the deposit from the unmistakably weird man who rented us this cottage, my car muffler snapped off at night on the Gardiner Expressway, and I watched it in the rearview mirror as it sparked, and bounced off into the distance. Luckily it was nighttime, so nobody hit it (that I saw). So much for the deposit money.

Oh man….. I’ve got a million of them. I’ve earned a couple of sleepy New Year’s Eves I think!