Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Hairy Palms Part 2: Palm Beach

For three days in July, I was in West Palm Beach working as a camera operator for a show on MTV called "True Life: Addicted to Pills." It was my job, as second camera, to follow around two men who are addicted to painkillers and every other kind of opiate. The subject of this show is a 29 year old man, who I'll call Wes. He lives in a house with a 39 year old, who i'll call Rick. They live in the home of Rick's father, who passed away two weeks ago. The home is in foreclosure, They don't pay rent. They get their electricity illegally by tapping into a neighbor's grid. They are auto mechanics by trade, and every day they try to find ways to make enough money to buy drugs. They do odd jobs at a local garage, they beg money for change at gas stations, and they sell the remaining possessions left in the house.
Wes is rail thin, wearing a filthy white t-shirt and shorts, barefoot. He has steel blue eyes and a little dirty goatee. He is as polite and solicitous as choirboy.
In the garage, there is a 1957 Chevy Impala in pieces. The chassis is painted bright green, and engine parts litter the garage, the yard, and the entire house. Wes and Rick are rebuilding the car for Carlos, who lives across the street.
Inside, the house is dimly lit and filthy, but not completely cluttered. The living room seems to be the one place where the two men relax. There is a large sofa with two reclining seats and a massive, old school large screen TV, with a smaller TV next to it. The small TV is hooked up to the large one and serves as the VCR. These guys are resourceful.
Next door to Wes and Rick lives a nice couple in their 60's from Trinidad. They are deeply religious, and they consider it their mission to help Rick and Wes stay alive. Every day they bring over a bag with sandwiches, sodas, chips, and ice for the two men. this is the only thing the men eat, since they use every cent they earn to buy drugs.

Over the course of three days, i will get to know these guys really well. They will tell me their life stories, and we will start to trust each other, so much so that one day they will even leave us in their house while they go out to score drugs. I will videotape them eating, sleeping, smoking, and shooting drugs into their veins. They seem to have no sense of common shame or embarrassment, only a zombie-like commitment to procuring the next dose and injecting it into their system. They do have a basic moral code, which prevents them from robbing anyone or stealing anything. They are not criminals. They are just two guys who are in a maximum-security prison of their own making called drug addiction.
Every day, the effects of withdrawal are so severe that it maddens them and makes them only able to focus on the simplest activities. These are mostly phone calls related to getting small jobs, or grifting money form the relatives or friends who still answer their calls.
The motivation that Wes has for being exposed on this TV show is simple: he wants to get off drugs. he knows that if he is on this TV show, a drug rehab program will have to accept him and take him in free of charge. He has no health insurance, and every free clinic has a six-month waiting list with no guarantee of acceptance.
Florida is literally a swamp, but after hanging around in the 95 degree, 95 percent humidity with these two men who have basically become reptiles, I really felt like I was living in a swamp of humanity. Florida is the primordial goo that sucks in humanity and holds it until it rots. It is just a wretched place. How many other drug addicts are driving around in all these cars, trying to find 4 "bars" of Xanax or a $15 bag of heroin, or lining up at the methodone clinic to score their dose for the day, making a trade on their health to stave off death by crack or heroin?
The moral of the story, kids, is just say no.



Sunday, June 23, 2013

Hairy Palms Part 1: Palm Springs

I went to Palm Springs for a three day bachelor party hangout for my friend James. Spent three days in the scorching sun with fifteen of my old pals from the homeland, California. Three days sitting by the pool drinking Tecate, swimming, bullshitting, feeling mellow in the 110 degree heat. It's amazing how easy it was to make decisions when it was a bunch of dudes just moving slowly.
I landed at John Wayne airport, which is in Costa Mesa, which is in the USA.



 

This was the MC at the tranny trivia night at the Ace Hotel.


Even more amazing was the fact that my friend Frank who lives in Zurich, Switzerland was in Palm Springs working on a journalism assignment, as was my good friend Christian from Brooklyn, both completely coincidentally. Good times!
 

This week

I was bumped from an elevator at Rockefeller Center by Richard Gere. I was working at a benefit for Meals on Wheels.
There were fifty NY restaurants set up with delicious food samples and Gere was one of the celebrity guests. As I was waiting for the elevator to take me down for the event, a nervous lady with a clipboard asked me if i could wait for the next elevator because she had "a VIP"' coming through. I said Ok and then Richard Gere pulled up in a car and came past me into the elevator, talking on his cell phone in all of his short,  white-haired splendor. I went down on the next elevator and then worked at the same event where Dicky Gere was hanging out schmoozing for the next two hours. I hope he enjoyed his private elevator ride.

A few days later, I shot Taylor Swift, some Australian model twins, Dita von Tease, and Dana Carvey at the Fragrance Foundation Awards at Alice Tully Hall.

Carvey was scrappy and funny. The crowd was totally against him but he kept swinging and made some really hilarious comments, including his impression of pompous French people. Considering that half the guests and honorees were French, it was pretty ballsy. He even did an Obama impression, reciting "Jack and Jill went up the hill," that was totally spot-on.

I also did a concert at Barbes with Andrew Hall and Alanna McDonald. It was a ripping power trio of French folk for the French folks.

And I worked on a video for my indiegogo campaign. I drove around under the BQE in a rain storm on my Vespa in the rain while Alessandro Rafanelli filmed me from the back of a car.
On the home front, Jules is going through a very tough time, asserting his will with some crazy tantrums and a lot of crying. Vivienne is very calm and happy. Their newest words are "I see you!" and "What's that?" They are tryin gto define their ever expanding world, and my heart just bursts every time I think of them. Pure Love.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Mots mots mots words words words

Vivienne and Jules are 16 months old. They can walk around like drunken sailors and run till they fall on their face. And they are learning new words every day.
Here is their vocabulary so far.

VIVIENNE:
Baby (or Vivi)
Jules
Hat
No
Hot
Doodoo (her blanky)
Uhoh!
Up
Down
Wow
Milk
Maow! (means "cat" or any animal that looks vaguely like a cat)
Ball
Tete (head)
Chausette (sock)
Shoe (pronounced "doo")
Hi
Bye
I see you!
Un deux trois
Daddy!
Mommy
Mimi
Taxi taxi (favorite song)

JULES:
No
Hush! (whispered)
Woof woof!
Hot
Uhoh!
Up
Down
Milk
Maow! (means "cat" or any animal that looks vaguely like a cat)
Ball
Shoe (pronounced "doo")
Hi
Bye
I see you!
Un deux trois
Daddy! (pronounced "addy")
Mommy
Zizi
Taxi taxi (favorite song)

Friday, May 10, 2013

Like a Stone

I made this video in my studio of this beautiful song by Audioslave. I recorded all the instruments and vocals, shot it all on the GoPro, and edited it. Pretty fancy, nest-ce pas?

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Finding the Cowards

On Monday, April 15, two bombs exploded at the finish line of the Boston Marathon, killing three people, including a twenty-nine year old woman and an eight year old boy. It seems the entire law enforcement community of the country is now engaged in a fevered effort to apprehend the people responsible for this and bring them to trial. I really hope they find them soon. The whole country is asking itself who would do such a disgusting and cowardly thing, attacking innocent people, and for what?

Though I too want answers about what would motivate such an act of psychotic cowardice, the more important question is not what demented, pathological splinter group is responsible for this, but rather, what is going on in out society as a whole that we are so removed from each other. We have completely lost sight of the fact that we are all connected, and whatever violence is done to one part of the human body is done to the whole. The only cure for violence is to end violence. Violence is a sickness of the spirit and a weakness. It is not sexy or cool or necessary.

On Wednesday April 17, two days after the bombing in Boston, the United States Senate voted on a federal gun control bill. Fifty-five senators voted in favor of it, and forty five voted against stricter measures on gun safety. Forty-five elected American government officials looked straight into the faces of the parents of the victims of the shootings in Newtown and said it was OK with them if we continue to make it easy for criminals and the mentally ill to obtain guns. Forty-five human beings, presumably with families of their own, bowed down to the NRA and the weapons industry in the face of overwhelming evidence and public desire. I would like to ask each and every one of those Senators: What the fuck is wrong with you? Where is your soul? Do you have children? Do you really think giving more people guns will make people more safe? Is your car registered? Do you have a passport for traveling? Do you take off your shoes and belt at the airport when you travel? If we submit to all of these regulations in the name of safety, why not regulate the weapons that are clearly responsible for so much death and misery in our country? Why not advance and join the ranks of the civilized world?
While we continue to look for the murderers responsible for the Boston bombing, here is a list of the people responsible for a crime with much larger repercussions. There are about 31,000 gun-related deaths each year in the US. Here are the people who think that's just fine:

Begich, Mark
Murkowski, Lisa
Sessions, Jeff
Shelby, Richard C.
Boozman, John
Pryor, Mark L.
Flake, Jeff
Rubio, Marco
Chambliss, Saxby
Isakson, Johnny
Grassley, Chuck
Crapo, Mike
Risch, James E.
Coats, Daniel
Moran, Jerry
Roberts, Pat
McConnell, Mitch
Paul, Rand
Vitter, David
Blunt, Roy
Cochran, Thad
Wicker, Roger F.
Baucus, Max
Burr, Richard
Heitkamp, Heidi
Hoeven, John
Fischer, Deb
Johanns, Mike
Ayotte, Kelly
Heller, Dean
Portman, Rob
Coburn, Tom
Inhofe, James M.
Graham, Lindsey
Scott, Tim
Thune, John
Alexander, Lamar
Corker, Bob
Cornyn, John
Cruz, Ted
Hatch, Orrin G.
Lee, Mike
Johnson, Ron
Barrasso, John
Enzi, Michael B.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Singing in French / Evil Right Wing D-bag

As you may know, I translate Georges Brassens into English for my project, Bad Reputation. But I recently decided it would be fun to record French versions of some of the songs. Here they are on my Soundcloud page.


And here's a picture of this evil shitface named Steven Milloy speaking at an event at the Harvard Club. I was the cameraman on this job and I had to listen to him talk out of his ass for forty-five minutes about how there is no such thing as climate change and how liberals have invented every environmental problem there is to further their Socialist agenda. He has a website called "JunkScience" where he uses fake science to debunk actual scientific theories that get in the way of the right wing, Capitalist agenda. He is a very dangerous, ignorant, and immoral person. He got his start being paid by Philip Morris to help them lie about the effects of cigarette smoking. Keep your eye on him.