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05.07.2011 в 13:22

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: JANUARY 17, 2002

читать дальшеHappy New Year! Back in Toronto after a much needed rest in Hawaii that was then erased by the exhaustion and invigoration of a promotional tour in the Mid-west. Here are some highlights from my journal:
Dec. 26, 2001: Trip to Kaua’i started with bad signs - - cramped flight, bad movie I’ve never even heard of, BAD food, the bag of peanuts they handed me was completely empty even though it was sealed, OH! and I was sitting two rows in front of these old reeking toilets… for 5 hours and 45 minutes! Upon finally landing in Honolulu I decided to let all this go as I was truly excited to enjoy this vacation and I was not about to let anything get in the way of that. Alas, the half-hour flight from Honolulu to Kauai ended up delayed by more than an hour and a half. As my first “day” in Hawaii quickly dissolved into night I grew grumpier and grumpier in the airport lounge, especially when I was pulled out of line (for the second time of the trip) for extra security. I was starting to get a persecution complex and my usual patience dissolved into one of “Oh, come ON!” (particularly when I had to take my shoes off.) So, I’m the last one on the flight and it’s an “open seating” deal so naturally there are nor F#$KING seats! Arrgh! One is finally found for me and we’re off to Lihu’e, Kaua’i. I was fortunate that one of the first people I met there was the guy driving the shuttle to my rental car. He had one of those “No worries,” “Right on” groovy kind of attitudes that I have come to love in some Southern Californians and my cool Toronto buddies. Instantly I was put at ease. My drive up the east coast of the island to the North Coast city of Hanalei (where I was scheduled to stay for 4 days) was lit primarily by the moon. Mountain ranges silhouetted, moonbeams reflecting off the ocean and a reggae program on the island’s public radio station accompanied me up the narrow and winding roads. Finally arrived at the Hanalei Colony Resort around 9:30 PM. The rooms there are kind of like a combination camp cabin and Grandma’s Miami condo with a balcony (lanai) view of the Pacific, which was one building away. The crashing of the surf was music to my ears. Ahhhhh. Everything’s going to be okay.
Dec. 27, 2001: The morning sun was spectacular when I awoke today at 8. I went into town to rent some snorkel equipment (and get groceries as this is a feed yourself, no room service or shampoo kind of place) eager to start my adventure with a glorious day at the beach. The guy at the snorkel store wouldn’t rent me anything because “all the beaches are too rough. The surf’s too high.” The “uh, oh” feeling swirled in my chest. But I was not going to let anything spoil my time. I will use my time in Hanalei to just rest on the beach, hike, etc. and save the snorkeling for my time on the South Shore. So, after getting a breakfast burrito I drove back towards the Resort over the many one-car width bridges and through the lush winding ocean-side roads to a secluded, although public, beach. No one there but two young beauties on a blanket. I have been delivered. I set up my beach towel a little closer to the ocean than the girls, strip to my swimsuit, slathered on some sunscreen (“Ted” can’t be TOO tan) and dip my toes in the salty Pacific. No sooner had I done that than a leftover male from the cast of “Baywatch” comes jogging up to tell me that the beach is closed and I’ll have to leave. “Are any beaches open?” I ask. “Not up here,” he responds. I returned to the HCR and spoke to the woman at the front desk and told her what I had learned. “Oh, yeah,” she said sympathetically, “It’s rough up here this time of year. The South is fine now and choppy in the summer.” Nothing was going to get in the way of my beach and me. So I made the decision to head down to the Sheraton on the South shore 3 days early. Both resorts were accommodating. After getting that all settled I strolled out to the resorts beach front and after making sure David Hasselhoff wasn’t going to make a surprise visit and that I was on high enough ground (as the waves were crashing pretty far up) I settled down on a towel and … it was lovely. The sun warming me, the crash of the surf, watching little sand crabs dig shelters for themselves. Went into town for a delicious lunch (and a Hawaiian Shaved Ice. Mmmmmmmm), then back to the HCR. Soaked in the Jacuzzi by the pool and then sat on my lanai reading “… Kavalier and Clay” until dark. I am already regretting my decision to leave as it turned out to be a very restful, beautiful day.
Dec. 28, 2001: Packed, charted my course to do some sight seeing on the way down South (thanks to the wonderful “The Ultimate Kauai Guidebook©”) and hit the road. The island is truly beautiful. Lush and green on one side of the car and blue, blue ocean on the other for much of the drive. Stopped to see three different waterfalls. Opaeka’a Falls were lovely but the viewing point was a little far away to really feel the impact of them. Next, I drove up a narrow, winding road to the Waialua Falls. These were made famous in the opening credits of “Fantasy Island.” Incredibly beautiful, as the sun hit the splash at the bottom and rainbows would form. The final falls were the Kipu Falls. To see them involved walking down a slippery red-rock and dirt path/rain forest atmosphere. Passed a strange fresh pile of animal droppings. Not big enough for a horse or cow, too big (and green) for a dog. Hmmm? Mystery poo! Finally I heard the roar of the falls and discovered a good vantage point to see them. A couple of families and their kids had hiked down to be on top of the falls and as the sun shone through a light “rain” I felt as if I had stumbled on an ancient (albeit VERY white) tribe in the middle of a rainforest paying homage to the River God “Splashy.” The next leg of the drive to Poip’u took me through “The Tunnel” which is actually a road arced over with eucalyptus trees. Very dense and cool. Even cooler, it started to pour the second I got into “The Tunnel” and stopped the second I got out. Thanks, Nature! I arrive at the Sheraton and … well; it’s a big ol’ hotel! Actually 2 hotels. One (the main part) is right on the ocean; the other (where my room is) is across the street and called “The Garden Wing”. No more crashing of the surf through my window, but a nice big Koi pond in the courtyard. My room is quite hotel-y, no character whatsoever. The beach and pool area was PACKED. Families and couples all there for the Holidays. Hard to find even a small strip of sand to lie down on. I instantly miss my quiet day on the beach in Hanalei. But I did get to submerge myself in the ocean at least. That’s a wonderful thing. But this beach will not do for me. Not at all. The quest continues.
Dec. 29, 2001: Awakened at 6 AM by noises from a variety of neighbors. Creaking bed from a copulating couple above (pretty good rhythm and duration but not much moan and groan), then water pipes jack-hammering as the folks next door turned them on along with banging bureau drawers, etc. I swear the fancy-shmancy Sheraton was sounding like a cheap, fleabag roadside motel. The good of this is that it makes me want to get away from the place. Utilizing my “Ultimate Kauai Guidebook©” I decide on an ocean side hike for today and Wameia Canyon for tomorrow. So off I go, shirt off, iPod® playing great tunes and I’m hiking along lithified cliffs above the surf. I am very happy. After about 40 minutes of hiking I became even happier. From the cliffs I saw ahead of me a series of secluded beaches with the bluest water I had ever seen. Like a man in a desert finding an oasis, I ran the rest of the way to the beach. My vacation was saved! I walked the beach -- half in the water, half out -- and giddy. THIS would be my spot. There were only about a dozen people there. I even passed a big ol’ monk seal sunning himself on the beach. HE knew that this was a cool place too! I began to see that the people there seemed to have a lot of stuff with them and it was clear that they didn’t hike all the way to the beach. I hiked back to my car and checked on the maps I had and sure enough there were some little dirt roads leading to the beach (Gillin’s beach as I learned) so I could get there without a 45-minute hike. Off I went to go rent snorkeling equipment and have lunch. Back at the beach I sent up camp right near the sleepy seal. The bastard was hogging the best part of the beach, I might add. I dove in the ocean, mask, snorkel fins and all. Heaven. A whole universe going on under the sea. Beautiful fish; funny, long needle-nose ones, big puffer fish, clown fish, giant gray disc-shaped fish with orange stripes and fins rimmed with in a brilliant blue. A large coral dome housing two or three dozen yellow, white and black striped Angelfish. So peaceful. I alternated between snorkeling for half an hour and lazing on the beach for the rest of the day. So this is what it feels like to relax!

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05.07.2011 в 13:23

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

читать дальше12/31/01: A day of purging and adventure to end the year. Finally got to hike Waimea Canyon [note: it was raining and very foggy up in the mountains the day before when I originally tried to hike]. I don’t think my body (legs, joints and butt especially) has been this sore since the three days of non-stop running and sprinting against Michael Johnson et al. I did for the Nike commercial in ’98. After checking out the vistas on the way up the mountain (and Waimea Canyon truly IS the Grand Canyon of Hawaii) I made it to the Nu’alolo Trail around 11:30 AM. The hike I was going on was approximately 10 miles in almost a horseshoe with the entrance two miles downhill from the exit. Four miles on the Nu’alolo Trail would then take me to the 2-mile Nu’alolo Cliff Trail (yikes), which would connect me with the Awa’awapuhi Trail, an uphill climb (from appr. 2980’ elev. to 4120’) of approximately 3.5 miles. Upon the advice of my “Ultimate Kauai Guidebook©” I parked my car at the exit and walked the two miles downhill to the entrance. Just before entering the Nu’alolo Trail I found a long, beautiful, PERFECT walking stick to use. Proved to be and enormous blessing and I thank whatever god left it there for me. The first couple miles of the hike through the “rain forest” proved to be rather treacherous as the previous days rains had left these downward, winding slopes VERY muddy and VERY slippery. I started off with my iPod® urging me on with jaunty tunes, but it seemed disrespectful to ignore the beauty of the silence up there, so I turned it off. Nothing to hear but the wind rustling through the trees and the sound of my own laughter and words of encouragement to myself as I negotiated some very slippery passages. Of course I did fall on my ass a few times, but my spirits remained high. It was all too beautiful to be mad. I enjoyed the problem-solving skills involved in figuring out how to stay upright using my stick and the occasional tree root jutting out of the side of a slope. I finally made it through after about an hour and found myself suddenly on a crest of red volcanic rock. Wonderful views of treetops on one side and cliffs out to the ocean on the other. Soon the path became a 1/2-foot wide “Luge run” of red rock and mud. The view remained beautiful but nothing could prepare me for what awaited me at the end of the Nu’alolo Trail. Not since my visit to the Grand Canyon has a view taken my breath away and made my legs feel all wiggly with vertigo. That’s what the vista of the Nu’alolo Valley did to me. I finally paused to take this all in. A vision like this does not come one’s way very often in life (especially if you only take a vacation once every sixteen years!). I sat, drank some water, had some Veggie Booty™ and cleaned as much of the mud out of my Nikes as I could. Boy, am I glad I did that, as I needed every bit of traction I could get on the Nu’alolo Cliff Trail. As I turned slightly from the view and started back on the hike I remembered seeing a little notice posted at the start of the hike alerting hikers to narrow portions on the Cliff Trail, but it wasn’t until I rounded a bend and saw just HOW narrow the trail was that I started to panic. No more than a foot in width from the red face of the cliff (which was not solid rock on the surface as I discovered) led to a steeply sloped drop down into the vastness of the canyon. I actually started trembling, my knees especially, as I faced the cliff (not wanting to look down) and edged sideways inch-by-inch around the corner of this precipice. Because it was rounded, I also had no idea how long this was going to last. My attempts to hold onto the cliff for support only brought forth handfuls of red dirt and loose gravel. I suddenly felt very alone. It occurred to me after a few minutes that there was no point in turning back; that was just as scary a proposition. I kept urging myself on; saying out loud to myself in as confident a voice as I could: “Come on, you can do it. That’s it. Step by step. Lots of people have made it across in the past and you haven’t heard of anyone dying. It’ll be okay.” But I was little mad, I admit. Mad at the people in charge of the trail for not putting a guard rail up or somehow alerting one a little more vigorously as to the dangers of the Cliff Trail and mad at myself for being so stupid as to go on such a treacherous adventure on my own. Who would know if I fell? No one. No one knew I was going here. Only when they found my body and perhaps listened to my iPod® and maybe gotten my ID from my pocket would anyone know my fate. My knees continued to quake along with my hands. At last the end was in sight but soon my whole body trembled as I saw that the last two feet to safe ground was not level like what I had been on but sloped downward into the canyon and quite gravelly. I paused, took a deep breath, threw my stick on to level land, gathered my courage and leapt across. As I opened my eyes to realize that I had landed safely I felt instantly giddy, as if I had cheated Death somehow. I turned back to face the cliff I had just conquered and flipped it off! It took a while for my body to recuperate from the stress, but once it did I felt invigorated and I attacked the trail as it now turned into a marshland environment with lots of tall grass. Across the way from the Cliff Trail I finally got a look at just how much of a drop-off there was and what one false step could have cost me. I was sobered. Eventually I reached the 3rd leg of the hike: The Awa’awapuhi Trail which turned out to be muddy and slippery as well with the added difficulty of being 3.5 miles of uphill climbing joy. Exhaustion began to set in as I was now close to the 4th hour of the hike and I had difficulty lifting my feet high enough over the many tree roots that snaked across the trail. I put my iPod® to use again to spur me on. As I got towards the last mile marker I truly didn’t know if I would make it. My hands were blistered from gripping the walking stick for so long. My shorts, socks and sneakers were covered in mud. I had scratches all over me from trying to find paths in the woods around giant trees that had fallen across the path. But still I went on; feeling as if working through the pain would somehow purge away any emotional duress of the past year. I finally reached the end. I was told the hike would take six hours. I had done it in 4 1/2. I was so very grateful that I had parked my car here at the end rather than now having to walk two miles to it. I truly felt as if I could not walk another step. I drove down to the start of the Nu’alolo Trail and left my stick there for someone else’s journey. I thanked the stick (as I did every root and branch that gave me something to hold on to as I slipped down the slopes) for all its help. The journey had become quite a spiritual one and hopefully the massage I plan to get in the morning will ease the physical pain I am in now. Lesson from the hike to take in to the New Year: Always keep moving forward, no matter the obstacles. There’s little point in going backwards.
Jan. 1, 2002: More fun in the sea today. New part of the beach. The reef went much further out here. Fish a plenty. Some huge one’s with a horn like gizmo coming out of its head and two electric-blue mini-fins on the rear. Brilliant little fish with blue purple and yellow coloring and whenever I would stop to look at a group of fish and then turn to swim somewhere else, I would run smack dab, mask to gill into one of those crazy 2 – 3 foot long, needle nosed, big eyed, eel-y type fish and they would always look so damned guilty when I discovered them there; as if they would say: “Huh? No. I wasn’t lookin’ at you. I was just … ummmm … swimmin’ and stuff. Dum-dee-dum. Uh, … see ya!” and off they’d dart. I would laugh in my snorkel every time. This one fish with blue, orange and green coloring started playing a game of chase with me. Round and round we went. It was a blast. I also learned the joy today of flippering around in the ocean and peeing at the same time. Weird sensation to be in motion and peeing. Very liberating. Makes me want to pee right now just thinking about it! Back at the hotel, I squatted on the lawn ["Hee! Intentional pun?" --Annie] and watched the first sunset of the year. Glorious. I even saw a whale diving through the water out on the horizon. To whoever’s running the show: “Thanks!” I’ve scheduled a helicopter tour of the island for before my flight to Honolulu tomorrow to give Kauai one last look. Boy, it really does feel like I was just starting to really know how to relax and now it’s time to go. I really had to learn how to take care of my own good time here. No one was going to do it for me. A place like this, especially at this time of year really doesn’t know what to do with a single person. At times I’ve felt kind of invisible among all the families and couples. At other times I’ve felt like an oddity; with people staring at me (especially as I write in a journal) in complete disbelief that someone would come here on his own. Almost as if I don’t belong. They seem suspicious of “Single Guy.” Well, f#$k ‘em! I probably had a better time than any of ‘em! [Note: I had had a few nasty Mai Tais when I wrote this entry] The more I hear from phone conversations and news reports about the cold snap up north the more I desperately don’t want to go back. L.A. will be great from a couple of days, but Minneapolis? Chicago? Then four months of winter in Toronto??? Brrrrrrrrrr!
*************************************
The next three days of my trip were spent in Honolulu. While enjoyable (especially staying at the AMAZING Honolulu “W” Hotel!!!) it just didn’t capture me quite the way Kauai did. Although my visit to Pearl Harbor moved me 10,000 times more than the lame-ass film did. Next time: The incredible QAF 2nd Season Promo/1st Season DVD Tour! ‘Til then …
Peace!
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:24

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: JANUARY 23, 2002

читать дальшеWell, after two quick days in Los Angeles visiting as many of my homies as I could I was off to Minneapolis for the first leg of the QAF Season 1 DVD signings/Season 2 Promo tour. “Why Minneapolis in the middle of January?” you might ask. Hmmm ... good question ... uh, ‘Cause that’s WHERE THEY SENT ME!!! I’ll be honest, the thought of going to Minneapolis and Chicago in the middle of January after 9 days in the Tropics chilled me. I felt like I had drawn the short straw in the QAF tour. Others would be in San Francisco and LA and New York. But me? I landed the two COLDEST locations we were going to. SO, I’ll admit it further, I was a little grumpy about the trip. Upon arriving at the lovely Marquette Hotel in downtown Minneapolis, I discovered that a bottle of Virtual Buddha® (a syrupy elixir to be mixed with water and create a healthful beverage) that I had brought from LA had exploded in my luggage covering practically the entire contents with a brown, peach scented syrup. It was 10:30 at night and I had a week of events to go through. My mood did not improve. You must understand as well that when I left Toronto I had to pack for three weeks and three different climates; Los Angeles/Las Vegas, Hawaii and then the upper Mid-West in January. There was a whole lot o' clothes in that bag. I had a mini-panic attack as to what the heck I was gonna wear TOMORROW MORNING AT 8 AM!!! Fortunately the helpful staff of the hotel was able to do a last minute/late night laundry run for me (there goes my per diem!) so I at least had pants to wear the next morning. But there I am, living the glamorous life, in a beautiful room, overlooking the city preparing for “my public” the next day by washing my luggage out in the bathtub and watching my Hawaiian tan quickly fade. By the time I finished up it was rather late and as I knew the next day would be a grueling one I gave up on writing in my journal and catapulted myself off to sleep with a Zen-like chant: “It’s all going to be okay. You’re LUCKY to be here. How fortunate you are. There are many who would … zzzzzz.”
I awoke the next morning to a spectacular sunrise over the city and somehow felt all would be well. It was. It turned out to be “January Thaw” time in the Mid-West so it was a balmy 47? in Minneapolis on January 8th. I met up with Thea Gill and Hal Sparks in the lobby (along with Hal’s buddy Larry and our wonderful PR tour guide Chris Reichert), jumped into the limo and sped off to our first appearance of the day. We visited the morning radio show on WXPT-FM with the lovely and liberal Carmen, Chris, the conservative Dan and the resident psychiatrist on the show Dr. Buff who kept staring at Thea and complimenting her “décolletage.” The interview went well and we ended up staying an extra segment chatting with such local notables as “Rat Boy” (I think that was his name) on the phone. From there we went to the local NBC affiliate to visit their local version of The Today Show. Another pleasant experience, although we followed a segment on makeovers and all wished we could have gotten one ourselves. From there it was off to lunch with “CJ” the entertainment columnist for the Minneapolis Star Tribune and, as we learned, the inspiration for Prince’s song “Billy Jack Bitch”. She was an absolute hoot and the food at Figlio was great. Finally we were off to, bum, bum bummmmmm … The MALL OF AMERICA! Alas, we didn’t really get to see too much of it. We were sequestered down in the basement of the Mall for close to two hours doing pressroom interviews and signing stuff for staff and other VIP’s. Finally we were brought upstairs to the Sam Goody© area for the signing and … Oh, my God! An enormous atrium lobby crammed with people and going up for three circular stories, balconies also lined with folk all screaming as we got out. Had to be well over 500 people there. I was truly surprised. Even here, we are rock stars - - “The Back Door Boyz!” Didn’t think our hold was that strong way up there. The signing was supposed to have lasted three hours but we ended up staying over four as there were just so many people, many of them having waited since 5 AM to meet us. Such warmth and generosity from these people (especially the stripper who gave Hal a pair of panties). Such a range; gay men and women, straight men and women, teenyboppers, mothers with their kids. Many with wonderful stories of how the show has deeply touched or affected them. So many telling me that they ARE “Ted.” Poor guys. Finally around 10 PM, exhausted and exhilarated we left the mall for a delicious dinner that truly felt like a celebration. It was the first day of sales for the DVD, we were already #5 on Amazon.com’s bestseller list and had FAR exceeded Showtime’s® expectations for sales. I went to sleep anxious to get to Chicago and “feel the love” in my old hometown. The next day at the airport it seemed like everyone was a fan of our show; the luggage handler who had to X-ray my check-in luggage (seems, yet again, I was tagged for extra security checks. Damn my swarthy complexion!), the ticket agent at the gate. It was as if I was part of some secret society. And I liked it! Off to the City of Windiness!
This was a homecoming to remember. Going from the gate to Baggage Claim I’m stopped by a wonderful Chicago actor, Jeff Rogers who is currently touring with Second City. He tells me how happy he is for my success. A smile grows on my face that doesn’t leave for at least 48 hours! On the ride in from O’Hare I picked up the Sun Times and there’s a big ol’ “5 questions with Scott Lowell” article. I unpack at the amazing W Hotel – Lake Shore (which used to be a crappy Days Inn when I lived there ... in Chicago that is not at the hotel) and head towards Michigan Ave. for a stroll. A block away I see a HUGE billboard of the show with my big ol’ puss on it. Here. In the city where it all started. The emotions start to rise. I have lunch and run into a dear old friend, Donna Fulks, on the street. We have coffee and catch up on her life and her husband’s (the wonderful musician Robbie Fulks. Look him up. He’s on my iPod!) Then dinner with one of my oldest friend’s in Chicago, Mark Morettini. Wow, already enough nostalgia for one trip, but even more is coming my way.

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05.07.2011 в 13:25

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

читать дальшеThe next morning starts VERY early with a 7 AM interview on WKIE-FM. It was a little early for dance music in my opinion, but the conversation was great. Then off to Chicago’s Fox affiliate for an interview on their morning news show. It seems Fergie was to be there that morning as well and we were to follow her. However, the Duchess was running late so as she was getting whisked into Make-up (her hair had already been done, dahling) we were whisked onto the set. It was a treat to be interviewed by Bill Zwecker, who’s entertainment column in The Sun Times had been a mainstay while I lived there. Finally at noon we headed off to the Borders™ in downtown Chicago. Again, we were sequestered in the basement. This time we were being guarded by a wonderful group of gay and lesbian officers from the Chicago Police. I also had the pleasure of being interviewed by Sid Smith from the Chicago Tribune. Now, Sid had been one of the main theatre critics in Chicago while I was an actor there. He had written my very first “rave” review and also my absolute favorite worst review (He called me “bloodlessly unfunny” as the clown in “Merchant of Venice.” I’ve always loved that!) When you’re a theatre actor in a city like Chicago, you live and die by the local critics so you kind of fear them. To talk to Sid and have him say he’s “a fan of mine,” really touched me. On our way upstairs a crazy lady jumped in the elevator with us startling us all. It turned out to be Kim DeJesus, a nutty gal I used to work with at an insurance company off and on for 4 years to supplement my miniscule theater paychecks. She and some of my other former co-workers were there to surprise me. Sure enough as we walked from the elevator to the signing area and the (yet again) ENORMOUS crowd screamed for us, there they were; Linda, Dorothy, Robyn all these wonderful women who supported me while I was “struggling” had come out to join in the celebration of my success. Others were there as well, fellow actors I had worked with, producers from local theatres. I was near tears on several occasions. Plus, it was just SO good to meet so many wonderful Chicago people again. “Salt of the earth” should be defined as “Chicagoan” in the dictionary. Again, this signing was to have lasted 2 hours but we were there for closer to 3 1/2 due to the overwhelming size of the crowd. People constantly asked if our hands were cramping. I’ll let you in on a secret, my hand is fine during the signings but my emotions get drained. When you have people coming to meet you, some of them shaking some of them crying, it’s important to let them know that it’s just as important for you to meet them as it is for them to meet you. This requires trying to meet the energy they’re bringing to you with equal force. Now when you’re doing this for 4 – 500 people at a time, well you feel like a limp rag afterwards. But, during … well, imagine how you would feel if all those people had come to meet YOU. How could you NOT smile! This day in Chicago we did two signings. After Borders™ we did another radio interview on WGN and then headed down to Downers Grove to a Best Buy®. Now, honestly we figured NO ONE would show up here. How wrong we were. Again, well over 500 people showed up and again we were amazed at the devotion to our show. I was surprised again by a visit from Karl Maschek, another dear old friend who was also my roommate for a time in Chicago and then disappeared off the face of the earth. I hadn’t spoken with him in over 5 years … and I look up to see who’s next about half-way through the signing and there he is. Magical. This crowd seemed even more grateful than the one on Borders™. As if they couldn’t believe we would come all the way down to Downers Grove … okay, WE couldn’t believe it either. Some people came to both signings (one who I see visits my site here smelled as good as she looked. I am SUCH a charmer.) and many hugs were exchanged. How does a limp rag that has been wrung out once, then re-used and wrung out again feel? Well I could tell you as we drove back to Chicago after that second signing. The day was a dream come true in so many ways - - that dream where you go back to a place where, at times, you felt like a nobody but now you’re a success and old friends and touchstones help you realize you were a somebody all along.
I stayed two more days in Chicago, visiting old friends, seeing an AMAZING exhibit on Gaugin and Van Gogh at the best art museum in the world, The Art Institute of Chicago as well as a wonderful production of GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS at Steppenwolf (featuring a cast with some of the best actors I’ve had the pleasure of working with). I had forgotten the old late nights at the bars talking the night away over pints of Guinness … and so had my body. Upon returning to Toronto on Sunday, all the relaxation that I had fought so hard for in Hawaii had been washed away. I was tired, my sinuses congested and it was time to get back to work. But I felt renewed. Now if only my cat, Chalupa, will forgive me for being away so long.

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05.07.2011 в 13:25

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: JANUARY 31, 2002

читать дальшеWell, I’ve tasted the bitter pill of the media over the past week. First I was misrepresented by Brentwood Magazine (or BRNTWD as it is titled by the “vowelly-challenged” publisher) as being “sure to point out” that I am straight. Then, in an interesting cover piece on Gale Harold in “The Advocate” I was mentioned as talking about my wife whenever questioned about my sexuality by the press during QAF’s debut season last year as opposed to Gale keeping mum. Now perhaps these seem like odd things to get upset about (you can read my letter to the editor of BRNTWD in the media section of this site’s Forum). So let me try and put it all in context for you. Before any press was allowed access to the cast of QAF in August of 2000, we were sat down by our Producers and publicists and told flat out that we would have to be prepared to answer many questions by journalists but especially whether we were straight or gay. Now, I could write an entirely separate essay on the inherently homophobic nature of this question (if this show were about multi-cultural couples would people sit by quite so quietly if we were asked to respond to questions like: “So, what’s it like to kiss a Jew?”). Nonetheless I already knew how I would respond to these questions. I have always hated reading interviews with actors who were playing gay characters who spend the entire article talking about their girlfriend or mentioning every other sentence that they are “not actually” gay. To me it comes across like the actor is apologizing for playing the role. I think Eric McCormack is a wonderful actor, I really do. But by the time I finally saw the first episode of “Will and Grace” I had read at least three articles on him where he went on at length about being straight; so I could only see “Will” as Eric and I did not buy him as a gay man. I think he did himself a disservice. It was important to me (especially given the ground-breaking nature of QAF) not to make the same mistakes. There are enough gay actors out there, justifiably perhaps, afraid to “come out” professionally. How does it help them and the gay community for an actor on THIS show of all shows to “apologize” for being on it? I couldn’t do it. I am proud to be on this show and no one was going to make me feel embarrassed about it. I felt a great responsibility as well not to insult the very community we were doing this show for. From the very first profile of us in “New York Magazine” I answered the question by not answering it, stating that the character was gay and that’s what’s most important right now. I didn’t want anything to take away from people meeting “Ted” and accepting him for exactly what he is. I knew a more appropriate time would come for people to get to know me. I was one of the few in the cast to take this approach (a fact which now seems to get over-looked) and I have been very protective of it. After awhile it seemed to work. Journalists just stopped asking me, I would like to think, because I had shown them that it was a moot point to try and raise. After Season 1 I felt it was safe for word to leak out as to my heterosexuality as long as it was not trumpeted in any way. So, after more than a year of riding my “High horse” to have it tarnished by two publications in the same week infuriates me. It was not the fault of either author (who have been wonderfully apologetic and horrified), both who knew full well my philosophy on this topic, but their editors. One, (I’m guessing) hoping somehow to perpetuate a subtle homophobia in Los Angeles and the other hoping to praise Gale for taking the same approach I did by setting him apart from the rest of us and “accidentally” attaching my name (as one of the leads of the show) with the misdeeds of another departed guest actor on the show. Apologies will be run, I am told. But let’s be honest, no one reads those. What’s initially printed becomes part of your “permanent record.” Their “sloppiness” costs me. Until “The Advocate” can actually present me with a wife I approve of to make up for the one they’ve saddled me with in their article I will not forgive them. As for BRNTWD, let’s see if they are magazine enough to run my letter. Here endeth the rant.
Peace.
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:26

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: FEBRUARY 10, 2002

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05.07.2011 в 13:27

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: FEBRUARY 22, 2002

читать дальшеOoooo. Okay. Wait. Ow, ow , OWWWWWW! Ahhhhhhh! There. Whew. Takes me a little longer to sit down lately after all the many spankings I've received. Thank you all for all your wonderful Birthday greetings. I hope you've gotten my messages of thanks by now as well. I've actually got 'til 5:24 MST to reach the next year of my life and yet the generous outpouring of affection from friends, family and now all of you has certainly buoyed my anticipation of what lies ahead. Boy, it's really how you look at it, eh? (OMG I just typed "eh?" Get me out of Canada QUICK!!!) You either mourn the past or look forward to the future. Well, as my near death experience on the cliffs of Wameia Canyon taught me: No point going back now. It's just as scary back there as what lies ahead. Still, let's look back a little shall we:
It's been a year of extraordinary change for me. Emerging from the protective bubble of shooting in Toronto I went back to LA about a month after my last birthday to discover the strange new phenomenon of strangers ( I mean that in the best sense of the word) stopping me on the street and telling me their life stories. Well, truthfully that kind of thing HAS happened to me a lot before, but now these people actually know who I am (or at least what I do for a living). It's a big life change to experience that kind of attention. Kinda cool but a new pressure as well. Now I have to look at least half-way decent when I step out the door, 'cause you never know who's gonna stop you with a camera and immortalize that "hairdo" you're sporting forever! Sh!t! A whole new world.
Empowered and emboldened by my new-found success and modicum of fame I decide it's time to have some of the trappings that go along with it all, godammit. I'm gonna buy me a house! I contact Kris Mooney (the best li'l realtor/ex-Rockette in LA) and her partner Debra Ziven and right off the bat see a beautiful little 2 BR house in Laurel Canyon with an amaaaaaazing view and an almost ski-chalet type atmosphere. I picture myself sitting by the roaring fire place on an overstuffed sofa, over-looking the hills, watching eagles soar by as I rub the shoulders of the lovely and overly stressed by her Oscar® nomination (I somehow knew even then) Jennifer Connelly who looks back at me (and my house) adoringly. Then I remember that I work for a Cable TV network and I haven't paid my taxes and ... 2 months later I bought a little condo. Still, I feel a little more grown up. Now I'm a home owner in real life and not just a homo nerd on TV.
It was an extraordinary Summer. Meeting wonderful people at many events, working with extraordinary talents and regaining some of the life I had left behind as I was submerged in QAF. It felt good to be ME again. Taking care of my friends, having them take care of me. Driving. Ahhhhhhh.
Later in the summer, my best friend from Chicago, Eddie and his girlfriend Laura move to LA. I've been waiting for Eddie to move out ever since I've been in LA. I was so glad to have them there that I set them up in my condo and took off for Toronto again. Arrrgh! Bye, ME. Hello again "Ted". How's it going?
Well, you kind of know the rest as these Blogs started not too much after my return to Toronto. The truth is that my life is quite different than it was a year ago and yet I still feel very much the same. Fortunate to have such good people in my life and to have reached a level of success in my life's calling without sacrificing my ideals. My inner sense of still being 13 years-old remains (for good or for bad) ... now if only my body could keep up.
I'm off to NC tomorrow for the HRC dinner and talk at UNC. So many acronyms, so little time.
Thanks also to those who sent kind words about Josh Clayton-Felt. Hopefully more of you will get his posthumous CD and experience the gift he left behind.
Peace!
Scott

JOURNAL: MARCH 12, 2002

читать дальшеWell, I feel like crying ... but for all the good reasons. Let me explain. I've been meaning to write a blog ever since I got back from my LA/NYC trip last week. But then I shot Friday night until 8 AM Saturday and spent the rest of the weekend re-adjusting my internal clock, etc. So as I pondered today about writing I kept waiting for inspiration to strike. While I waited I watched the tape I had made of last night's 9/11 special starring Robert DeNiro as "Tower 1." If you missed seeing it, it was pretty extraordinary. Really brought back my own experiences of being there in early October. If we ever needed a concrete example of just HOW destructive hate can be, we got it that day - - and, conversely how bravery and caring can heal. My emotions were rising. Then I made a mistake. I was curious to see what the response was to"Ted's" story-line in Episode 9 of QAF. I decided to check out the Showtime® message boards. Now I should say that I had stopped reading them last year when I found them to be more of a distraction than an aid in my work (just like reading reviews) so it's been a while. What the hell has happened over there? So much bile and dissent spewing forth. It really upset me. So much hate. Even if it's only from a simple-minded few, the decision by so many to return hate with still more hate saddened me. Coming so close on the heels of reliving the 9/11 experience I began to have a "what will become of humanity" moment. Have we learned nothing?
Then I came back here and I started to laugh and shed tears of joy .. well, almost - - but for the sake of the drama of this entry lets just say I did, okay? Even in the past week this little website-that-could has become a true community. It's a wonderful yet bizarre transformation. ScottLowell.com has become it's own internet show with a cast of characters from my past and stars of the future. First my old friend Tim (with the help of new "friends" like Chantal, Trinity, Annie, Keithomis, Crickett and many others) created a little playhouse in the Theatre thread of the Forum. Thank you SO much, young Tim! If you haven't visited this wacky clubhouse, get yourself a cup of something strong and start back at the beginning. You'll slowly see the emergence not only of the weirdest idea for a play but of people getting together to have fun and becoming friends in the process. It's truly a lovely thing. I absolutely believe that there will be a giant slumber party happening very soon (hopefully after April 4th so I'll be free to attend). I grinned from ear-to-ear as I read EVERY entry. The mysteries of "The Shirt" will NEVER be revealed but to say this "One Shirt To Rule Them ALL" ... and who's to say there's only ONE?
Next I went on to find that my friend Eddie Jemison is getting mentioned and recognized by the Sco-Lo's (that's what I've decided to call all of you! In tribute to J .Lo. The "o" in "Sco" is long, by the way). He was just on this weekend's SIX FEET UNDER as a hilarious casket display salesman. I'll let you know that he's currently shooting a pilot for ABC called "Paranormal Girl" and has a recurring role on "CSI" that should start soon. (My friend Marc Vann already is on a lot as Billy Petersen's nemesis) Then my old roomate Jeff Rosenthal gets a nod for helping write the theme song for the new WB premiere this week "Guide To Being A Rock Star". "What is happening?" I think to myself now my buddies are getting to be stars on my web site too. How cool. But wait, that's not all. My brother. My own brother now has a following here. You have to understand. This guy is a liver and kidney transplant surgeon, father of 2 near teen-age girls and a part-time cop/hostage negotiator who has come up with the idea for a TV show in his spare time and NOW he's got his own thread on my website, too?? I love it! As I'm laughing I go and read all the wonderful things people have said about getting Josh's CD "Spirit Touches Ground." It makes me so happy that people are experiencing the joy of his music and gift. I told you all it was good sh*t! I wouldn't steer you wrong.
Finally I just finished reading the wonderful new "...Say my name, Bitch" thread where everyone is introducing themselves and that's where I knew finally what to write about. The wonderful community that is this wonderful web site. I don't think I ever really had a clear idea that a site could offer that. Maybe Annie in her infinite wisdom did. I thought it would mainly be a PR vehicle for me to let fans know what I'm up to, who I am and "give back" to them in a way. But after reading people, one after another, introducing themselves; describing themselves; feeling safe enough to tell things about themselves to ... well ... strangers that could open them up to ridicule were it on some other message board I began to see the truth. I may have registered a domain name and been wise enough to agree to have Annie Taylor design and run the site but it is truly all of you who have given ME something (Oh, God, sounding a little like Mr. Burns right now. Sorry). A safe haven where I can see people responding to each other with care and consideration and acceptance. How the hell the very kind of "community" I try to surround myself with in every day life should somehow come to be on the "cyber version" of me without any effort on my part ... well, it makes me want to cry ... but for all the good reasons.
Now as for my trip to LA ... I'll write about it later.
Peace!
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:29

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: MARCH 31, 2002

читать дальшеOkay, what’s going on? I thought these things were supposed to go in threes. Indeed the formula continued to prove itself this week with the deaths of the comic pioneer and pilferer Milton “Uncle Miltie” Berle, the miniature comic giant Dudley Moore -- once you have heard the comic insanity of the drunken ramblings of “Derek & Clive” (his co-creation with Peter Cooke) all other drunken Brits seem sober – and then the extraordinary film maker (and driving force behind “Some Like It Hot” one of my all-time favorites) Billy Wilder. With less than a day to let all this loss soak in I learned, as I sweated away on a Cross-Trainer at my Toronto gym (which I am SURE is a front for “the Mob” ‘cause they’ve got a floor full of all the most modern gym equipment and no one is EVER there) that the Queen Mum is now waving that special wrist-only wave in Heaven. So, either two more will now be following her OR, perhaps the Queen Mum is of SUCH importance and lived ever so long that she counts as three all by herself. The next few days will be very telling as to how much weight the Royals of England truly carry in the celestial scheme of things.
Oscar® Sunday© nearly escaped all of us displaced Americans working on QAF. Last year we were all back at home having finished filming Season 1 by mid-March. Now, with April fast approaching it occurred to me that America’s™ greatest national holiday was all but forgotten by our happy little band. I could not let that happen, so I threw together a last minute Oscar® get-together and one-by-one they came … although some were confused by the appearance down the hall from my apartment of a red carpet strewn with cut out gold stars leading to a Canadian™ Oscar® party 4 doors away from mine. I found the red carpet and fancy dress of the guests at that party a tacky mockery of a truly solemn occasion. But then again I suppose our habit of dressing up as giant bottles of Molson’s Canadian™ on Canada Day® may be of some insult to them, so I’m willing to let it go. It was so good to see practically all of my QAF family together in one room, imbibing, munching on Thai food, savoring every gem out of Joan Rivers’ silicone injected face (my favorite: “Every available police officer in Los Angeles is here. So, Winona Ryder: Go crazy, Girl!”) and … “Ummm, Scott, Honey, where are the ballots?” asked young Peter Paige. “Ballots?” quoth I, with a ring of Satay dipping sauce surrounding my mouth causing me to look like some kind of idiot peanut clown. “What’s an Oscar® party without ballots for everyone to vote on all the categories and see who gets more right than the others and therefore be able to feel superior and lord it over everyone else that ‘I was able to correctly predict far many more winners than ANYONE!’?” he retorted …. or something like that. I had never viewed the Oscars® as some sort of competition, but Peter assured me this was how things were done. As for myself, I needed no ballot. I knew that the “Academy” had declared the 74th Oscars® the “Year of Making Up For All Our Past Injustices” and that was all that mattered to me. Fortunately I have an airtight memory and the calligraphic skills of Martha Stewart© so I was able to hand-print enough ballots for all my guests in under 2 minutes so that Peter was indeed able to say at 12:45 AM “I was able to correctly predict far many more winners than ANYONE!” even though he wrote in “Zoolander” as the Best Documentary winner.
If I seem a bit giddy, it’s because this Monday (April 1) begins our last week of filming for season 2 of QAF. As much as the joy is mixed with a tinge of sadness at having to leave my family up here the feeling of celebration of all that we have accomplished and gone through this year overwhelms me. And celebrate we shall next weekend at an undisclosed destination. Work on a television series (especially in a “foreign land”) can become so all consuming that you feel like you have nothing to say about the world that goes on outside the studio and you lose a “sense of self”. I look forward to having something of substance to write you all in the near future.
Until then …
Peace!
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:29

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: APRIL 28, 2002

читать дальшеWell, well, well. It’s been nearly a month since that last brutal night into day of shooting up in Toronto. We began at 5:30 PM on Friday the 5th of April and finally finished shooting the climactic scene of Season 2 at 12:30 PM on Saturday the 6th. The tears of exhaustion, joy and sorrow at the coming separation fell on each other’s shoulders as we hugged; partly keeping ourselves from falling down partly not wanting to let go. The celebration that followed later that night was a chance for all of us to express our gratitude and pride to one another. How lucky we all are to be involved with QAF, despite the grueling hours. I will miss all my Toronto family (and Chalupa!). There is not a doubt in my mind that without all the support, kindness and love that they each gave me in their own special ways (some in VERY special ways! Hee hee hee) I would have gone mad.
Coming home to LA meant, as it did last year, that my body was finally allowed to feel the bone-tired exhaustion that my brain manages to push aside while I’m working. I focused on making my new home in LA feel more like a home for myself and re-connected with only a few friends. There’s a feeling of needing to decompress after such an intense period of work. It’s difficult to adjust to “every day” life. But with the patience of my friends it happened in about a week. I remember who I am now. I just wish they’d stop calling me “The One.” It’s creepy. I’m the same old Neo I was before I left.
Thus began my Summer Hiatus. First, letting the sunshine and warmth thaw my hibernating soul (oooooo, good one). Next, the search for the perfect film and theatre projects to diversify my career while finding the time to relax in between. Much is still up in the air. The scripts I’ve read have held little interest for me and I don’t want to make the same mistake of jumping at the first project that comes along as I did last summer. So, as I have in my personal life, I will wait for the right one to come along.
“Adventures in Larry Sitting.” Chapter One: It was only just over a week since I had seen my cast mates and producers, but as I was driven to CNN©’s Los Angeles studios I found myself giddy … well as giddy as I could be given that I had slept terribly the night before. See, I had just purchased two of those crazy “Relax the Back™” Tempurpedic® foam type pillows that are supposed to align your neck in a better way than standard pillows do. I was told that an adjustment period was to be expected. I’m not sure if they’re doing their jobs SO well that it’s causing me to go into SUCH a deep sleep that I experience intense, weird-ass dreams and wake up exhausted or if I’m using them upside down or what. But I have yet to return to a “regular” night’s sleep. This is all to say that I was a tad sleep-deprived on April 18th. None the less, the joy at seeing “the gang” again perked me up. We got our special Larry King make up on - - weird lights in his studios means the make up has to make you look like you’re doing a silent movie - - and joked how lucky we were to get on the air at all that day. You see there were MANY opportunities for us to be “bumped” that day: a plane flew into a building in Milan, the U.S. bombed some Canadians by mistake in Afghanistan, a train crashed, the Middle East was close to becoming the Middle of Nowhere, etc. Yet, somehow we had come through unscathed and the powers-that-be at CNN© had decided that NONE of these events were more important than Larry talking to us!
Soon Larry came in to greet us all. He looked like the uncle who hovers in the kitchen slapping his hands together, then rubbing them back and forth saying things like: “mmmmm, what smells SO good?” He wore a QAF friendly purple shirt with a patterned tie that had all the colors of the rainbow on it. “You’re a hit!” he exclaimed. “We’re gonna have a helluva show here!” Wow. Larry likes us. He really likes us. Soon we get called in to the studio which is the size of a studio apartment in Manhattan. Peter is called up to Larry’s desk to get that crazy little ear thing-a-ma-jiggy so he can hear Randy, Gale and Bobby in New York and Sharon in Florida as well as any callers from Sioux City. Hal, Michelle, Thea and myself stood off to the side in the chilly chamber of the King nervously waiting our turn. We turned to the monitors behind us that not only showed us what the cameras were seeing but also a live feed from CNN©. Currently they were showing some house. It seemed to be in LA somewhere, but I couldn’t hear what was going on. I asked one of our producers what was going on. “Oh, they’re arresting Robert Blake.” She said with a roll of her eyes. “Finally,” quoth I, “guess they had to wait ‘til they had all the evidence so they didn’t screw up like they did with O.J.” I turn around and hear Larry talking to someone who’s communicating with him in his ear thing-a-ma-jiggy. Peter is being told with a gesture not to sit down and make himself comfortable quiiiiiiiiite yet.
“Uh huh. Uh huh,” responds Larry to his ear. “So, we’re sticking with this? Uh huh. Uh huh. Ooooookay.” Then he swivels in his chair to face us and says “Sorry guys. That’s the News biz. We’re going to have to reschedule. I’m sorry. And I was especially looking forward to talking to you two!” he says looking over his glasses at Thea and Michelle. We all laugh and are escorted out of the studio. Dan and Ron and the others waiting in the conference room refuse to believe Hal and I when we tell them that we’ve been bumped by “Baretta.” “Boy who cried ‘Wolf’” syndrome I suppose but they think we MUST be joking. Finally it sinks in. We’re asked by the producers to hang out as we may just tape the segment for later airing. As we sit watching the TV inanely showing an aerial shot of a house while Larry and his newsmen contemplate whether “he’s really even in there,” we are stunned. All we can do is joke and laugh as we begin to fear that this wonderful opportunity to spread the word about QAF to a national audience seems to be slipping away. Michelle admits that Robert Blake was once in an acting class with her. I recommend that we go back into the studio and recreate that class with Hal as “Robert Blake” (he kinda looks like him) and Michelle as herself to act as filler while CNN© waits for Mr. Blake to come out of the house or kills someone else or tries to run away (ALWAYS the best comic option). No one EVER takes me seriously though and so we just sat there..
Eventually we are told that we will reschedule for any day next week. An honor rarely bestowed. They tell us that the producers of the show and Larry himself have really been looking forward to us being on and they don’t want to give us short shrift. So I guess we dodged a bullet, which is more than I can say for the late Mrs. Blake. We headed back to our cars bloodied but unbowed. We WOULD return to fight again. In the meantime we headed off to Café Des Artistes for drinks and food.
Next time: This Shirt’s for you, computer in a coma and "no Tyne like the present."
‘til then.
Peace!
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:30

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: MAY 6, 2002

читать дальшеSomehow the universe gets you back. On the day that all the world will remember as “The Day they booked ‘Barreta’” the cast of QAF received an extraordinarily generous gift from the good folks who put together the QAF Showtime® web site. They wanted to express their thanks to us for all of our support (i.e. doing on-line chats, etc.) while working on Season 2, so they got us all brand spankin’ new Palm Pilots©. Do I have the greatest job or what? Now here’s where the karma police pulled me over for making an illegal lane change. I had been planning on getting a new Palm© as mine is a few years old and the memory was full and causing me to have to dump some programs out of it. I had figured that since I had to get a new one I should get one of the new-fangled color ones while I was at it. So when this wonderful gift arrived but it was a lower level model than I was hoping to get, I immediately thought about exchanging it to upgrade. I tried unsuccessfully to bring it back to a number of area stores only to be denied, as I didn’t have a receipt. Did I pause and realize that the forces that guide us were trying to tell me that I was being somewhat ungrateful? No. I called the very people who sent us this fantastic gesture and asked them to send me a receipt so I could exchange their gift. Have I no shame? Not when it comes to new-fangled electronic gadgets apparently. SO I got my new Palm© and went about installing it’s software. That’s when the universe decided to strike. In the middle of installing my computer went into a coma. Nothing I did would restart it. It couldn’t find the system software ANYWHERE and I had left my system CD’s up in Toronto ‘cause I’m a MORON! As a side note I should mention that I had decided to wait to send out a big mass e-mail telling all my friends and family that LARRY KING had rescheduled us for Weds. April 24th until Tuesday the 23rd so they would be more likely to remember. Well it was now Tuesday and my computer was a drooling vegetable. The lovely people at Apple™ said they would send me out some software but it wouldn’t get to me until Friday. 4 days without my computer??? 4 days without email and the Internet and banking by Quicken® and … I was like a crack baby without my crack - - sweaty and jittery. How was I to know what was going on in the world? How was I to let the myriad know what was going on with ME?? How would I survive?
Fortunately more pressing matters faced me. It had been requested of me by the Web Wench of this site and her minions that I wear “The Shirt” on LARRY KING LIVE and I had it on and was set to wear it on the 18th of April but … With all the excitement following this event I neglected to focus on what I would be wearing at the rescheduled taping. I figured I might be okay. I mean, I had only worn the shirt a few hours on the night Bobby Blake was sent to the “Big House”, it should still be okay, right?
I immediately rushed to find the nearest cleaners that could return “The Shirt” to it’s unstenchified glory by the next day. With my computer on life supports, this was a stress I did not need and yet, I did it - - for the “people!” {Images of me saluting with a giant American flag waving in the breeze behind me should now be showing in your brain while patriotic music swells in your ears.}
Déjà vu doesn’t even begin to express the oddness of returning to the CNN© studios almost a week later. ALL of us wearing exactly the same things, eating the same cheese and melon slices and sporting the same sassy attitudes and hair do’s. We nervously waited for the axe to fall again. What event would bump us this time? But nothing came and before we knew it we were watching the first of what would be 2,246 shots of “Brian” and “Justin” kissing while Larry intoned: “Tonight, too hot for TV? Showtime's® hit series "Queer as Folk" steams up the screen. It's not another "Ellen." It's graphic, raw and controversial. And while it's produced by gays about gays, most of its stars are straight.” Uh, oh. THIS is their “angle?” THIS is why we’re “news worthy?” We were in for a long hour I felt. But then I remembered that we were “Team QAF.” I’m not 100% sure Larry was ready for us. He was definitely overwhelmed by the volume of cast members and his inability to fathom that straight actors could play gay characters was kind of charming but it limited the scope of his questioning which was unfortunate. I think we were all hoping for a lot more from him and the show. Now don’t get me wrong, this was an AMAZING event for our show. The fact that QAF (a Showtime® production) was on CNN© (owned by the same parent company as HBO®) is a coup and our wonderful PR department (Go, Jackie! Go Jackie! Go, Jackie!) had to work 2 years to make that happen. But as anyone who really knows our show is aware, it’s about SO much more than just the sex. So, while it’s extraordinarily wonderful that CNN© introduced our show to billions of people world-wide who may have not known about it, I’m not sure they were able to get the best impression. Still, sex sells, Baby! And having even their hired-gun critic/caricature say things like: “This is the most provocatively sexual show on television” (one of his three “P’s” I believe) and mentioning us in the same breath as SEX AND THE CITY will probably go a loooooong way to increasing our viewer ship.
Now as far as my personal experience, I’ve got to admit that I wasn’t fully comfortable. But that could be because THERE WAS NO ROOM AT THE DESK FOR ME!! Due to a scheduling snafu I kind of got tacked on to Michelle and Thea’s segment and since Larry’s desk is about the size of an Ikea© Sklar™ end table (look it up) I ended up having to straddle the corner between Larr’ and the girls (I’m sure he was even less thrilled about it than I was) forcing me to contort my body into a position much like the one used by actors in productions of “The Elephant Man” (so if Billy Crudup has to drop out … I’ve done the research now). As if it wasn’t clear enough that I was not really supposed to have been a part of this segment they start it off with a clip of the girls and then I hear Larry say: “The subject is ‘Queer As Folk.’ And naturally lesbians play a part as well.” Right before they cut to a shot of me. So suddenly I’ve been outed as a lesbian. I was furious. I wasn’t prepared for this. I mean, on national television? Right then? Before I had even told my family or friends? Even Rosie waited until the end of her career. And so I lied. I lied right into Larry’s big-screen-TV sized glasses and said: “I’m not a lesbian.” The rest is a blur.
On Friday the CD from Apple™ finally arrived. My computer would be saved and the trembling in my hands and twitching in my eyes would cease at last. But, wait. They sent me THE WRONG DISK! Arrrrghh! My usually brilliantly Titanium colored computer was growing paler by the seconds, so I raced it down to the computer store where I bought it (Computer International on Pico Blvd. Rockness!) and they told me they could rebuild him, they had the technology. Whew! But I’ll never look a gift Palm© in the mouth again.
A brief mention of an event I went to that Saturday night. It was called “TV Cares, A Ribbon of Hope”. TV Cares is an organization within the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences (the folks that bring you the Emmy® Awards) that deals with raising money for AIDS research and treatment. Dan and Ron were being honored for their work not only on QAF but for their pioneering efforts on “An Early Frost” on NBC some 15 years ago. Peter, Michelle and I were lucky enough to be there to witness this honor. The eloquence of our creators never ceases to amaze me. I also had the thrill to meet Miss Tyne Daly who was also being honored that evening. What a righteous broad. No wonder Sharon is still such good friends with her. She just makes you instantly feel as if you’ve known her forever. My heart was completely won over when she climbed up on stage, festooned in a bright red Chinese pants suit ensemble, with her big ol’ handbag in tow to receive her award. No pretense whatsoever. Brilliant.
If you haven’t seen “Y Tu Mama Tambien” … RUN!!!
Peace!
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:31

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: JUNE 8, 2002

All right, all right. I KNOW it's been more than a month since my last bLog entry. Please accept my humble cyber-apologies. Although this is my summer "break" there have been few opportunities for rest. Now I know that's my own fault and not yours. I'm just asking you to understand that when an opportunity TO rest has arisen, the energy to sit down and write has just not been there. I'm just trying to protect you all from reading anything half-assed ... after all, most of you have already seen my full-ass. Besides, remember the dullness of my "forced" Oscar® bLog? Two words: Bo. Ring.
So just know that a full-fledged effort WILL be coming.
In the meantime, check out the fine recommendations in the "Watcha Readin'?" section of the Forum on this site, buy a copy of what ever tickles your ... whatever, sit in your extra comfy hammock in your backyard (you REALLY should get out and enjoy the summer), sip a cool refreshing Beverage© and drift away ...
Peace!
Scott

JOURNAL: JULY 1, 2002

читать дальшеI’ve been struggling as of late - - struggling to figure out what to write here. Especially since being back in Los Angeles and feeling a lot less like People Magazine’s® “Sexiest Man You’ve Never Heard Of 2009” (It could happen, just you wait!) than I do while I’m up working in Toronto and more like “ just some guy” makes it hard to know what to share with you. I can be a very private person. There are things some of my dearest friends don’t know about me. So the notion of sharing details of my life with, for lack of a better word, strangers just because they have the exquisite taste to perceive me as an actor worthy of being the front-runner for the 2012 Oscar© for “Best Supporting Hair” is at times … uncomfortable (and daunting) for me. I’m sure you can understand that there are some things that need to remain private in my life or my friends and family will get really jealous.
Still, some stories just HAVE to be told.
I had a terrific first date with a girl I’ll call “Persephone” (“P” for short). She was funny, very smart, cute and quite sexy. A definite “connection” was made over a delicious sushi dinner and the evening that followed. She invited me to go to a birthday party for a guy she works with the following Friday and I happily accepted. “P” picked me up in her Honda (See? SO much in common) after work and drove me to this odd little Hollywood club/bar that had strange male and female go-go dancers clad in leather underwear doing “movements” in one-way glass encased booths behind the bar. It put me in mind of pre-World War II Berlin for some reason. We were having a terrific time as I met some of her co-workers, had some noshes and took in the odd vibe of the club. At one point she introduced me to a woman in or near her 50’s who was a journalist. After introducing us, “P” turned away and went back to talking with her co-workers. So I engaged the journalist in a conversation that quickly became one of those “tough to extricate yourself from” kind of situations - - very involved and lots of question from the journalist. I do my best, especially out here in LA, to maintain eye contact with the person I’m speaking with since it’s a very “Hollywood” thing to be talking to one person and constantly be searching the room for someone else (more important?) with your eyes and I hate that. I kept figuring “P” would come back and get me. After about an HOUR, I finally said to the journalist who was mid-monologue that “I really should go find ‘P’.” The journalist seemed a little put off but oh well. I headed off into the crowded club to search for my date peering into every nook and cranny, every group of people (who would stop their conversation and look at me with a “Yes, can we HELP you?” look). I circled the entire club. No, “Persephone.” I made another lap, then another. Still no “P”. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to find someone in a crowded bar but as the same people see you circling around and around looking closely at everyone you see and they start thinking: “How desperate IS this guy? Hunting for a pick-up like that.” … well, it makes you feel a little bit like a loser. On top of feeling that way I periodically had people coming up to me and saying: “I love your show.” So, now not only do I look like a loser but I can’t even be an anonymous loser. And people wonder why I relate to “Ted?” After AN HOUR AND A HALF of searching for “P” the fact that I had not wanted to face smacked me like an angry mother in a trailer park: I had been ditched, deserted and discarded. I couldn’t fully allow myself to believe that “P” would do that to me so I tried phoning her on her cell phone - - no answer. SO I left a message, trying not to be too angry or accusatory in case some tragedy had befallen her: “Uhhh, hey, it’s Scott. Ummm. Not sure what’s going on, but, uh … I’ve been looking for you for the last hour and a half and I …. Uh … just can’t seem to find you ….” My main concern of the moment other than how I would survive the feelings of humiliation that were swirling around my gut was: HOW WAS I GONNA GET HOME??? She drove me and L.A.’s not big on the cabs or public transport. Fortunately I ran into an old friend of mine (and very funny actor) Andrew Bilgore. We had gone to N.T.I. at the O’Neill Theatre Center together and he was kind enough to scoop me off the sidewalk and give me a ride home.
When I got there I tried “P” on her cell phone - - still no answer. I try her at home: she picks up. “What the Hell is going ON?!?” I yell. “You completely disrespected me,” she says with all the calm of a madman. “You spoke with that woman for an hour and embarrassed me in front of my friends.”
“What are you talking about!?! You introduced me to her and then left me there! Why didn’t you come back and get me?!”
“I can’t stand that woman.”
“THEN WHY DID YOU INTRODUCE ME TO HER?!?!? You bring me to this party, I don’t know anyone there, it’s your responsibility to come back and get me if you leave me with someone!”
“No, you should have had the balls to break away from the conversation and come find ME!”
“WHAT?!?!?!”
I proceeded to yell at her (and it takes A LOT to get me to yell, believe me) for the next 45 minutes (my apologies to my neighbors and roommates) trying to figure out how she could think it was okay to do something so deliberately cruel. The bottom line was that she didn’t give me what I gave her in that hour and a half I spent doing laps around that bizarre-o club: the benefit of the doubt. I searched every inch of that place because I could not fathom that she could even THINK about leaving me there for no reason let alone actually do it. That would be the act of an unstable lunatic and she was anything but that. So as I completed every examination of the circumference of the club I gave her the benefit of the doubt and kept searching. Did she for a moment stop and think to herself: “Scott’s a nice guy. He’s been very attentive and kind to me so far. He wouldn’t be trying to pick up a woman, whom he couldn’t possibly be attracted to, right here in front of me.”? NO!
After I finally calmed down a little and at least stopped yelling, “P” says to me seductively: “So, do you want to come over?”
“WHAT?!?!?!?!”
So when she rolled over and looked at me in bed the next morning … no, no, no. Just kidding (only about the next morning stuff. She really did ask me that question). That was the last date “Persephone” and I will ever have. Why did I choose to use the alias “Persephone?” Check out your ancient mythology and find out who Persephone was married to. I truly do wish her well.
Another adventure: I attended the premiere screening of LAST CALL, the excellent Showtime® movie starring Jeremy Irons, Neve Campbell and Sissy Spacek about the last years of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s life as seen through the eyes of his last secretary, Frances Kroll. At the reception following the screening at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences I had the pleasure of standing really almost quite near Jeremy Irons. I consider him a very close friend now. While kidding around with my friend and QAF Publicist (who would get SO red in the face if I said her name so I’ll just call her Jackie) I noticed a rather attractive brunette across the crowded room. Jackie kept trying to get me to go talk to her, but I’m a little shy when it comes to that. Being the publicist that she is Jackie was about to go over and “sell” me to this girl herself. The thought of that was even more embarrassing so I finally made my way over to the food table where the sultry mystery girl was standing with another girl. “I’ll act like I am getting some food and then make some witty comment about the Cobb Salad and then she will laugh and be mine,” I told myself. Well I got up to the Cobb salad but realized I had no plate. I certainly couldn’t act like I was getting food without a plate. But there were no plates at this food table. Where are the f$%king plates?? How can you have a food table and have NO PLATES?!?! So I hustled over to the nearest supply and strolled as calmly as I could back to the Cobb Salad. The girl was not there anymore.
She had now moved on to the bar, still chatting with her girlfriend as she received a glass of merlot from the bartender. Very sexy: merlot. “That’s okay. I’ll just act like I’m getting a merlot as well and then she’ll see how much we have in common and THEN she will be mine.” So I saunter up to her side and look to the bartender with the standard one finger up gesture, universally understood to mean “can I have a Merlot so I can impress the dark-haired temptress standing next to me.”
“Bar’s closed, Sir.”
“Huh?”
“I’m afraid we can’t serve anymore. Bar’s closed”
The girl strolled away. I later learned that Neve Campbell’s security guard had secured the object of my affections phone number before she left with some other guy in an Armani suit.
If you need to write a letter just send it to me care of “The He-Man Woman Hater’s Club.”
Peace!
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:32

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: JULY 22, 2002

читать дальшеEverywhere I have gone this weekend people give me that pitying look and say: “Sorry about the Emmy® snub.” “Is that some new kind of handgun?” I ask cleverly and everyone laughs as I turn away and one small, perfect, glycerin, Demi Moore tear falls from my right eye. It’s true, QAF has been shut out of any nominations in the latest chapter in Emmy® history. Big surprise, right? We’re 0 for 2, Kids, but our smiles are still wide and our butts are still perky.
Let me give you some insider info. on Emmy® Nominations™, etc. For those who would take or print any of the following out of context, let me say unequivocally that what I am about to type is done without ANY sour grapes… or at least very few … and they’re seedless. So don’t be trying to spin me like that, Yo. These are just my opinions, observations and assumptions. K?
I became a proud member of the Academy of Television Arts And Sciences (ATAS) this spring. “Can anyone become a member?” you might ask and I might respond, “Do I interrupt you when YOU’RE at work? Huh? Do I? Do I come to McDonald’s© and kick the mop out of your hands? No!” I might say that but chances are I am more likely to tell you that to become a member there is an initiation process that involves a lot of forms to prove that you’ve worked over 40 broadcast hours of television productions in some capacity (watching doesn’t count I’m afraid, although with some shows it should), a recommendation from another professional (I tried Carrot Top but he is SO busy!) and, of course, a nominal fee. Once I was accepted as a member I received a little ID card that I was hoping would contain a number that would unlock ALL the pay cable channels on my TV but alas it only gets me a discount at Sizzler© on “Steak ‘n’ Shrimp Nite™” and for some reason a 2-for-1 deal at any participating wig shop.
Since my membership began in the Spring (Emmy® nomination season) I was immediately inundated with close to 200 videotapes and DVDs of Television shows, movies, mini-series and specials. Now this is where the whole thing breaks down a little in my opinion. Back in the ancient days of my youth when dinosaurs roamed the earth (I think “Dinotopia” took place in the ‘70’s didn’t it?) and there were only 3 major networks on the VHF portion of one’s television plus a couple of local channels and a Public TV station. UHF had all the crazy stations that were broadcast out of people’s garages. At that point in history it was a lot easier to separate the entertainment wheat from the chaff. You KNEW what the best shows were because there were so few options. It was clear what was popular but trashy and what was challenging, intelligent and truly well put together. The Emmy® voter’s job was a lot easier.
Then along came cable television. Not everyone had it at first. My family, for example, never got cable until I was almost out of college. We had a 30-foot tall radio tower with an antenna on the top of it to reach over the forest of trees we lived in the midst of (it was Connecticut though so it wasn’t THAT backwoods). As a result much of what was going on in this new frontier was unknown to many, especially members of ATAS (who, I imagine were happy and busy enough keeping up with what was going on with the 3 networks they were used to) so it was not considered part of “regular television.” When there was enough programming to give notice to, cable TV came up with “The Ace Awards©” that only focused on cable programming. This seemed to make sense. Cable was (and is) a different world with a different set of rules and deserved it’s own unique award. Eventually cable became more popular and a staple in more and more homes. Some brainiac must have decided that the Cable Ace© didn’t have the same clout as the Emmy® and therefore didn’t legitimize (and “Mainstream”) cable programming. So the Ace© was done away with and the poor members of the ATAS now had to wade hip-deep through the murky programming of over 20 networks as opposed to 3. Guess what? It’s an impossible task. It’s like trying to pick gnat shit out of a spilt pile of pepper. When my poor mailman, sweat pouring from his brow, back brace tightened for extra support would trudge the two flights up to my condo with boxes upon boxes filled with “For Your Consideration” video and dump them on my doorstep like the climactic scenes out of “Mr. Smith Goes To Washington” or “Miracle on 34th Street,” I would find myself exclaiming out loud: “There is no f#$king way in God’s green earth I am ever going to be able to watch ALL these tapes.” And yet, technically that was my job: to sit in judgment of all these programs. Then the nomination ballots showed up. 30 to 40 names in 100s of categories of which I was to select the top 5 in each (and I was only voting for “Performances” and “Programs”) and circle the correlating number. How the Hell was I supposed to HONESTLY say who was the BEST amongst all these people and shows? No one can do this.
I began watching tapes. Which ones did I pick? Ones that I had “kind of heard of but never seen.” “Buffy’s” musical episode, “The Bernie Mac Show," “Smallville," etc. One other fact to consider about a theoretical member of ATAS such as myself is that if they are working in TV, chances are they don’t have a lot of time to actually WATCH TV! So when it comes time to vote or at least select which tapes they’re going to watch for consideration, chances are great that they’re going to go for the shows they are VERY familiar with and like or those which the media has embraced and TOLD them to like or the ones that have magically had a clever enough (i.e. expensive) ad campaign to raise their heads above the crowd so the voter will take notice. In other words, the big guys and ol’ reliable stand-bys tend to come out on top. It’s the reason the same shows or networks are nominated year after year after year. Now you know I love to fight for the li’l guy, but I’ll be honest, it doesn’t seem to me that the li’l guy stands a chance in the wonderful world of TV awards presently.
Now am I saying that those who were nominated are not worthy? Absolutely not. They are completely worthy. But are there other programs, performances and members of creative teams that are as equally deserving? Yes. For example (and this is the one pseudo-sour-grapey thing I’ll write) “Will & Grace” (a show that I TRULY enjoy) has been nominated for best costumes (as it was last year). With all the objectivity I can muster I cannot understand how someone who essentially finds new designer clothes to put on their actors is more worthy of a nomination than the extraordinary Patrick Antosh who builds (from scratch quite often) many of the incredible and outrageous clothes and outfits worn week after week by the denizens of Babylon on QAF. The problem is that most members of ATAS have never seen QAF and as the show has not been embraced by the mainstream media probably wouldn’t pop in the tape sent out by the network for their consideration. The same is true for many well-crafted and challenging programs.
So, in the end, the awards become a popularity contest rather than one that truly awards the “best of the best.” It diminishes the value of winning it seems to me. Now I am not so naïve as to expect perfection from an electoral process (look who’s in the White House, for God’s sake!) but every now and then you need to look at the mechanics of things and maybe consider a tune-up. Perhaps the ATAS needs to split up the Emmys® (as they have done by having “Daytime Emmys®”) between network and cable as they are such different beasts. Or maybe the Ace© needs to come back. I dunno. I do know this, however; those who have been nominated deserve ALL the congratulations we can give them. To be recognized above and beyond all the splendid work that has appeared on television over the past season is an extraordinary accomplishment … and that the ATAS members were able to find and circle the right number enough times to deliver the nomination for them is a miracle!
The next round will be MUCH easier for members to get through, Whew!
Peace!
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:34

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: JULY 29, 2002

Just a quickie for inquiring minds. Yes, the David Isay portrayed by Josh Charles in the current Showtime® offering OUR AMERICA is my best friend since we were 12 whose work as a radio documentary maker I have mentioned here in the past. The web site for his company Soundportraits is listed in the links section. Go there and listen to the original stories ("Ghetto Life 101" and "ReMorse: the 14 Stories of Eric Morse") by LeAlan and Lloyd that he produced back in the early 90's. They are still powerful testaments to maintaining hope in a hopeless situation. For those that have seen the movie, LeAlan's grandmother, June (portrayed by Irma Hall in the film) just passed away a few weeks ago. Very sad. If you have a chance to see the film you will get a brief hint of her strength.
How cool for me. A film about the work of my oldest best friend that features a wonderful performance by my newest best friend, Peter Paige!
Peace!
Scott

JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 26, 2002

читать дальшеWHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION
Scott Lowell
Miss Annie’s 4th Grade Homeroom
My summer was very exciting and fun. Miss Annie says I have to write one thows … one tho … a whole bunch of words about my summer vacation but so much happened that I don’t think it should be any problem to write SO many words. Even still I hope Miss Annie will count all the words I just wrote even though they weren’t really all about my summer vacation exactly.
Anyway, after meeting that famous crazy man with the little head, big, BIG glasses and suspenders who asked me and my friends some pretty silly questions on his TV show I saw a bunch of other famous people who wear glasses too. One night in May I paid a whole lot of money to see my favorite man who wears glasses: Elvis Costello. He normally plays with a band called “The Attractions” but Bruce, the man who usually plays Bass guitar in that band also wears glasses so he and Elvis were always getting in fights. So Elvis didn’t ask Bruce to play with him when he recorded his new album “When I Was Cruel” (I think he named it after Miss Annie’s homework assignments. Actually it’s SOOOOO good I even secretly listen to it during nap-time, which makes my mom mad). Elvis asked another man to play bass guitar with him and called this new band “The Imposters.” Elvis is silly. I paid so much money for the tickets to see his show at the huge, new Kodak Theatre (home of the Oscars®) that I got to sit eight rows from the stage with all sorts of famous people who don’t wear glasses like Jamie Lee Curtis (with her boobies), Giovanni Ribisi (with his mean look) and Carole King (with her … ummm ,,, hair). Elvis rocked and he rocked hard. There were lots of cool lights too. He ended with a version of one of my favorite songs, “I Want You,” with real spooky orange lights shining up at his face from the edge of the stage and purpley lights everywhere else. Kinda like what I do with my flashlight under my blankets when I’m telling my sleep-over friend a scary story. My other favorite album of the summer was Wilco’s “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.” If you haven’t heard it, get it. If you love it too but haven’t seen the documentary about the making of the album “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart”, see it.
A week after I saw Elvis another famous man with glasses, Garrison Keillor do a live broadcast of his radio show” A Prairie Home Companion” outdoors at the Greek Theatre. He’s a tall man in a suit with a red tie and red socks. Kind of like the Devil. Only he speaks in a very calm voice like the one Miss Annie uses to lull me into a state of submissiveness. He uses that calm voice to talk about a make believe town called “Lake Wobegon.” It was really cool to see them make a radio show live, doing all the sound effects and reading from their scripts and stuff. What was really amazing was that Garrison told a whole, long story about a wedding between a boy from Los Angeles and a girl from “Lake Wobegon” for about half an hour without ever looking at a piece of paper or nothin’. Pretty impressive stuff. Then Taj Mahal came out and played his guitar to a crowd of people that was made up entirely of white people. Suddenly I really felt like I WAS in Minnesota. Kidding. I kid.
My mom insisted that I get a summer job and not just laze around the pool all summer like “Meadow Soprano.” Whoever that is. So I agreed to do a workshop of a new play for no money. At least it got me out of the house. The workshop of Bill Leavengood’s play “Bedtime Stories” was directed by a very talented friend of mine, Ron Orbach. (he puts the “sch” back in “mensch”!) It was a lot of hard work and frankly I was a little tired and cranky from the many months of being in QAF-ville ( and remember I’d been listening to Elvis during nap-time) so I wasn’t the jolliest theater elf during rehearsals. Still it’s always great to dig in and work on a new sсript, tinkering and toying with it until what wasn’t working … works a little better. For instance, the poor folk who saw the first performance saw a play that was half an hour longer and with scenes in a different order than the other nights. Some of those poor folks were loyal “Sco Lo’s” and I really appreciated seeing so many of them over the run of the workshop. Brave souls, all. Another joy was getting to act with (and smooch) one of my dearest friends, Dawn Maxey and meet a couple of new nuts Lynn Milgrim (who played my mom) and Ellen Rattner (who played a weird-o nurse). The sсript dealt with the rather twisted relationship between a mother (not me) and son (me) who haven’t seen each other in ten years. Both Ronnie and Bill had very strong connections with this story and are sick, twisted individuals who need to be institutionalized. Instead of doing that Ronnie decided to get married later in the summer to the lovely Kathleen Eads in one of the more beautiful, fun and original weddings I have attended. As an example, Ronnie is good friends with the gifted singer/songwriter Amanda McBroom. During the ceremony (which took place at the Dorothy Chandler Pavillion) she sang one of her most popular original songs in such a clear and true voice it was as if she had written it for the occasion and had never sung it before. The song was “The Rose.” I defy anyone to hear that in the midst of a celebration of love and not weep … or at least make out with someone. On the other hand Ronnie’s dad did follow that up at the reception by singing “Viagra, I just took a pill called Viagra! ( to the tune of “Maria”) By the way, Ronnie will be appearing in the new Broadway musical “Dance of the Vampires” with Michael “Don’t call me Phantom” Crawford. Ronnie will be playing a neurotic, Jewish Inn keeper. What a stretch.
I did my best to keep the NKA (National Kickball Association) afloat by helping organize and play in at least three kickball parties. It is truly the sport of Kings … well at least Kings who aren’t really good at any other sports. Typing of parties, I went to a really cool party early in the summer. After a week selling their television shows to programming directors from all over the world, Warner Bros.® throws a huuuuge party on their back lot in Burbank (they control QAF’s Foreign Distribution. You can now find us in England, France, Australia, Israel, South America and many other countries thanks to the fine folks at WB). On this night, they turned their enormous studio lot of city streets into a Middle Eastern/Asian Bazaar complete with elephants, peacocks, 4-story high banners with kama sutra like paintings on them (mmmmmm), Cirq d’Soleil performers spinning around over your head, beautiful girls (Hi, Seung!) and, of course, Chaka Khan. Little bazaar type booths and stands were set up all over the place with delicious Middle Eastern and Asian food and drinks and other things like crystals and polished stones … and they were all free for the taking! Now that’s MY kind of party. Peter and Gale were there as well and we wore silly hats, got henna tattoos and basically acted like morons.
I got to do a bunch of traveling on my summer vacation as well. After a few trips all around the country visiting family in early June, I went to New York City to give a little speech in Bryant Park at the rally that kicked of “Pride Week”. It was a VERY hot Sunday and yet an enormous crowd turned out for the rally. When it was finally my time I spoke briefly about all that the NYC GLBT community had to be proud of including the brave openly gay police officers and firefighters I met in New York last October and Sylvia Rivera, the drag queen who helped start the riots at the Stonewall Inn that gave birth to the Gay Civil Rights movement. Sylvia passed away in February. The crowd was very kind to me, but I think the organizers had expected me to talk a little longer. When I came offstage the woman who was hosting had to come running from very far away ‘cause she thought she had time for a big ol’ break. Oooops.
How could I be in New York and NOT go see some shows? Fortunately my pal Randy was available to see some things with me. We saw “All Over”, a revival of an Edward Albee play starring the extraordinary Rosemary Harris. I swear, that woman sat in one place for nearly the entire play and you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. Michael Learned was also amazing. A few days later we went to go see “The Producers” which was very funny, (especially Gary Beach who had appeared as “Michael’s” dad, “Divina Devore” in last season’s QAF). My favorite show however was “Urinetown.” It does an incredible job of poking fun at musicals while still being a damned good musical in it’s own right. Great sarcastic humor to it as well.

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05.07.2011 в 13:36

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

читать дальшеLater in the summer I went up to San Fransisco to help out at a fundraiser for Destination Foundation, an organization that helps provide “dream vacations” for AIDS patients. Michelle Clunie is their spokesperson so Bobby Gant and I went up to add our support for a terrific organization. Usually these things can be a bit of a drag, but OH MY GOODNESS did those San Fransiscans show this New England Preppie a good time. From our host, Tim Hepworth (his boyfriend’s name is Tim as well. Awwww. T2), to our Jaguar drivin’ “chauffeur” and Mayor of the Castro, Raffi; my personal shopper and wardrobe consultant Vy; party planners hunky Mike and exquisite Janine and the song stylings of Limo-Man Don … I couldn’t have had a better time. They did an amazing job of recreating “Babylon” in a big old theatre turned nightclub. They even had me dancing up on a catwalk on the stage. THAT’S how much fun it was.
The next weekend took Bobby and I to the place of my birth, Denver, Colorado where we were to be 2 of five Grand Marshals for AIDS Walk Colorado. We were treated like princes by the wonderful people of the Colorado Aids Project and Denver. The other three Grand Marshals were former “cast members” of “Survivor”. Ethan Zohn (the $1,000,000 Africa winner), Brandon Quinton (Africa … umm . non-winner, I guess) and John Carroll (Marquesas non-winner). All very nice guys and it was fascinating to get insight into the world of instant celebrity that “Survivor” brings. Ethan spoke about having to go back to Vassar (where he graduated not too long ago) and speak to the graduating class during graduation week. “What am I supposed to tell them?” he asked me. “Go out and get yourself on a game show?” It was a little humbling at times to have so many more people recognize the “Survivor Boys”. But as Brandon so nicely put it: “25 million viewers versus 3, Boys!” Ah, fame. They were a lot of fun to hang out with, but when the competition kicked in during a game of “Feygele Feud” at J.R.’s Bar, well … let’s just say that after losing the first round, team QAF came roaring back and kicked much “Survivor” ass! As it was late after the game, the victors then went back to the hotel to bed (as we had an 8 AM breakfast to attend before the 10K walk the next morning) while the losers decided to party all night, not making it back to the hotel until 4:30 am or so. Suffice it to say that they only (barely) made it to the first checkpoint on the walk before hailing a golf cart to take them back to the hotel. Brandon did make it through leading the 15,000 walkers in a warm-up despite his immense hangover and chills (he’s got a work out video coming out soon) for which he has my admiration. Yes, they survived Africa and Marquesas (wherever the hell that is) but they couldn’t make it out of Cheeseman Park! Bobby and I finished the full 10K in style.
My final trip of the summer was to an amazing spa/hotel in Cabos, Mexico on the southern tip of the Baja peninsula called Las Ventanas Al Paraiso (Windows of Paradise). No place is more aptly named. It was a total “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” kind of place (Bryant Gumble and his new wife were there and Nicholas Cage had stayed in the room next to mine the week before). I wouldn’t have been able to afford it were it not for a very generous gift certificate that our pals at Showtime® gave us for a holiday gift last year for a great company called SpaFinder©. They’re kind of like a travel agent for spas all over the world. I was pampered (no, not with diapers you sicko!) and rubbed and fed like never before for five days. I didn’t know whether to tip all those wonderful healers or marry them. The hotel is right on the Sea of Cortez and looks like an ancient (fancy) Mexican village. I fell asleep to the crash of the surf every night and bronzed my pasty flesh until my farmer’s tan (from driving around in LA) was completely evened out. There were two amazing restaurants and a Ceviche bar(Mexican Sushi. Mmmm!), serving some of the freshest, tastiest food and mango margaritas I’ve ever had the pleasure of … hold on, I’ll be right back.
Sorry the puddle of drool was getting too close to the keyboard and Miss Annie would be REAL mad if I electrocuted myself now. Had to wipe up.
One more adventure awaited me before my return to Toronto: I got to play PYRAMID!! Oh my God. How much fun was THAT? Could Donny Osmond (and the entire staff) have been any nicer? You know, you watch those game shows and you say: “look at those ta-ra-ra-goon-dee-ays jumpin’ around like chumps. I’d NEVER do that.” Well … just you tune in. All I’ll let you know is that twice my knees got so weak from excitement that I could barely stand. Wheeeee!! I wanna become the Sandy Duncan of the new Pyramid and be on ALL the time!
Now here I am back in Toronto, reunited with Chalupa (who only put me through half a day of guilt-inducing distance and stares) reflecting back. My summer vacation had some disappointments personally and professionally but as September rolled around I felt a great anticipation and desire to get back to work. As much as I enjoyed the play-time with friends and travel I began to miss poor old “Ted.” So in a week or so, I’ll chop off my hair, shave off the scruff and don the bowling shirts and bemused smirks again. Could I be any luckier?
Wow. I think that’s waaaay over the word count, Miss Annie. Can I use the extra towards next summer’s report?
Peace!
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:38

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

JOURNAL: OCTOBER 2, 2002

читать дальшеIt's pretty rare that I am speechless, but ... umm ... wow. To all the Sco-Lo's: Annie, Chantal, Crickett, Endgame, Gayla, Halsfan, Jac, Jen, Laura, Lindsey, Lynne, Missy, Morgaine, Shirley, Stephanie, Summerwind, Sunhawk, Tessa, Tim, and Trinity, I thank you for such a wonderful and generous gift. But it is so uneccesary (I mean I aint givin' it back or nothin' don't get me wrong). For those unaware, these little nuts who have formed such a wonderful community on this web site over the past year got together and made an on-line cook book of all their favorite recipes (because they all think I'm too skinny I guess). Then to help me make some of those dream recipes come to life they musta held a bake sale or something and got me an extremely generous gift certificate to cooking.com. I am very appreciative of the gifts, but I have to say I feel somewhat undeserving. The community you've built is because of your own warm spirits. I am merely the landlord. Annie is the true mistressmind of this place. I am proud of all of you and the support and love you give each other and am grateful to you and all that visit this site for honoring me with your presence ... and now your presents!
This first anniversary has been quite a day. First off to QAF land to get my long summmer hair cut back to "Ted" length, then off to wardrobe for new measurements and to pick up the shirt that our lucky Anniversary Contest Winner Catherine Brock will be receiving soon. Boy, seeing that shirt again after two years and remembering the pains I went through wearing it. Collapsing over and over again on the floor (which was thin carpeting over cement) and then convulsing late into the night. Oy! The shirt also caused trouble for our costume designer for the pilot, because we had shot the scenes over at Babylon where "Ted" first meets "Blake" before the condo scene and everything semed fine with the gray shirt (it's not Kenneth Cole by the way, it's Bedo). But when we got into the condo (for the first time) we were all horrified to realize that "Ted's" condo and furnishings were also almost ENTIRELY GRAY AS WELL. Suddenly I was in danger of becoming a chameleon and bledning in with my surroundings. Red pillows were quickly brought in so that I wouldn't "disappear" completely into the sofa. Ah, it seems like only yesterday.
After fittings this morning I went off with the rest of the cast for our read through of the first episode of the third season. It's such an amazing experience to be in a room with this wonderful cast, our gifted writers and producers reading a brand new sсript for a brand new season, I can't begin to tell you. I feel so lucky.
So to come home after attending our "Welcome Back" party thrown by our Canadian network, Showcase® and see what you guys have given me ... can you see why I'm speechless. How wonderful. And if any of you feel I am too absent from the site please know that it is extremely difficult right now for me to find a balance between the personal and professional sides of my life. I've been derelict in giving the professional too much time and I'm having to make an adjustment to maintain what little sanity is left in me at this stage (not much, trust me ... okay, then ask my friends. Sheesh). It's not lack of caring about my .com home that keeps me away only my life.
Happy anniversary to you all. Even before tonight, you have given me an extraordinary gift. Thank you.
Peace!
Scott

JOURNAL: NOVEMBER 24, 2002

читать дальшеWell while “Brian” plays with his latest trick in the back room of “Babylon” I finally have some down time in my trailer before I’m needed for my next scene to write a little bLog-age. We’re in the thick of things in episode 5 right now and I can’t help but ponder how we’re going to pull off the upcoming scene where “Ted” saves “Justin” after he’s fallen out of the helicopter they’re traveling in (to rescue “Emmett” who’s stranded on a sinking oil tanker off the coast of “Pittsburgh”) and is left dangling from the runner by his “bad hand.” I mean, I know I said I would always do my own stunts but …
A girl I used to work with on “The Jenny Jones Show”, Karyn Bosnak, (she whipped the audience into submission while I lamely tried to warm them up with my "comedy") recently paid off a $20,000 credit card debt she racked up after, as CNN.com put it: “an 18-month bacchanal buying Manolo Blahnik, Gucci and Prada,” right before she became unemployed. She paid off her debt by … well … essentially begging for money on the internet. She started a web site (www.savekaryn.com) and between selling off some of her big ticket items and receiving over $13,000 in tax-free gift money from strangers on-line she was able to put herself back on her Prada-clad feet. While many have condemned her (even starting such sites as www.dontsavekaryn.com) I can’t help but admire her a little for putting to use the lessons she learned from “The Jenny Jones Show.” No, not the lesson that it’s okay to sleep with your 13 year-old step daughter and her 28 year-old mother at the same time just “cause they smell so damned purdy.” The lesson that Karyn must have learned is that Americans love freaks and losers because, at all levels of the social strata, we have an intense need to feel superior to someone … anyone. That’s why Jenny and Jerry and Ricki and Maury and all the others whose names end in “-ee” have jobs. To show even the most downtrodden of our citizens that even though they may have lost everything to a heinous drug addiction at least they’re not as bad as that mom on TV who let’s her son pierce his eyelids and connect hem with a chain. Blech!
So Karyn went begging. Not as a noble failure who lost her fortune spending months and months helping former President and current Nobel Peace Prize Winner Jimmy Cater (Yipee!) build “Habitats for Humanity” and now needs funds to nurse her two, suffering, Kurdish sponsor-babies back to health. No, she found herself in need living off a supposed fortune that unexpectedly disappeared while buying extravagant gifts for HERSELF in the most expensive city in the universe – New York. Hers is a selfish shame that many Americans share and then go running to Mummy or Daddy to bail them out or file for bankruptcy and let the government (and you and I) help. But Karyn knew American, I guess. After selling off as much of her ill-gotten booty as she could on eBay she went crawling to the public to “save her” because she is, in the words of her web site, “nice.” What could be more satisfying than to throw a quarter into the cup of a “Yuppie coulda-been” begging for help. How could that not make anyone feel … SUPERIOR. Yes, Karyn knew the true innards of us suckers … uh, I mean Americans and she played us like an out-of-tune ukulele. Now she’s not only paid off her debt but after appearances on “The Today Show” and pieces in “People” magazine and CNN.com she’s supposedly negotiating a book and movie deal. And others are following in her pedicured footsteps. Maybe some of the third-world and developing countries whose debts we won’t pardon can try the same method. I can’t believe these and other countries actually hate us. They must just be jealous that we’re so much better than them.
For far greater insights into Americans than I could ever give, please run right now out your door, down the street and right into your coolest local cinema to go see Michael Moore’s extraordinary “Bowling for Columbine.” The best film I’ve seen all year. It is hilarious, chilling, infuriating, tear jerking, manipulative and something most films are not: thought provoking.
As the “season of giving” approaches I beseech you to balance out the selfishness of others and find a worthwhile charity or cause that helps others in need and give whatever money or time to them that you might have to spare … or when someone asks you “what do you want” as a gift this holiday season consider saying: “give whatever money you were going to spend on me to …”. That is, of course unless you REALLY want that new “A Very Britney Christmas” CD then to hell with it.
Well, they’re calling for me. Gotta strap on my safety harness (at least it’s not a dildo) and get to set.
Have a terrific Thanksgiving. As you breathe in the aroma of giblets and sweet potatoes think of us poor expatriates slaving away so you can have your “Gay TV” come March.
Peace!
Scott

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05.07.2011 в 13:55

Тед Шмидт

QaF-фандом мёртв, а я еще нет!

moveforever, ОК. Прочитаю вечером (работы море нынче). Скотти почти не изменился с возрастом, а Питеру идут очки (или это мой фетиш?)

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05.07.2011 в 14:32

Sapfira23

Смерть стоит того, чтобы жить, а любовь стоит того, чтобы ждать. ©

тоже мне на вечер напочитать))
спасибо)
фоточки глазом пробежала. интересные)))

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05.07.2011 в 15:21

~Lorel~

Если вы думаете, что у меня опустились руки, вы ошибаетесь. Я просто наклонилась за монтировкой (C)

Мне со словарем тута напочитать месяца так на два. :-D

Заодно и попрактикуюсь. Только вы тут без меня не очень-то обсуждайте!

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05.07.2011 в 16:03

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

щетаю всех, кто имеет намерение осилить текст целиком, признать героями))

на самом деле там точно можно кусками по диагонали читать)

эх, а я все собираюсь к его архиву вопросов-ответов вернуться, которые и сейчас на сайте, и все не соберусь)

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05.07.2011 в 18:36

tunka-s

moveforever Ого! Спасибо! Почитаю, оч интересно ))
эх, а я все собираюсь к его архиву вопросов-ответов вернуться, которые и сейчас на сайте, и все не соберусь) - это на его сайте?

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05.07.2011 в 18:48

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

tunka-s
на здоровье!)

это на его сайте?
ага, да
в отличает от журнала вопросы-ответы пережили реконструкцию)

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05.07.2011 в 19:51

tunka-s

moveforever Надо сходить посмотреть, я там вроде была, но не вчитывалась. Надо повнимательней ))

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05.07.2011 в 20:17

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

tunka-s Надо сходить посмотреть, я там вроде была, но не вчитывалась. Надо повнимательней ))
я первые годы у себя где-то зимой выкладывала, так что начало ты скорее всего читала, но там конечно надо все читать и внимательно - первоисточник же)

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05.07.2011 в 20:27

tunka-s

moveforever Ну я наверное через тебя туда и попадала! 99% моих путеи в мир квирофандома идут через твой днев! )))

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06.07.2011 в 16:25

yennifaire

"Personally, I would have been far more intrigued watching B/J read the phone book to each other than watching the Faerie Gathering or anything Ben/M ever did..."

o, спасибо, отличная инфа)) юный скотти))
дневник щас не почитаю в перерыв, там куча всего
потом надо будет вернуться)

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13.07.2011 в 18:24

~Lali~

Cheers!

He told me of his experiences on 9/11
совсем забыла про это,
они же переживали эту трагедию во время съемок, вроде?

I went to go see a terrific film with Gale called: Together.
чё-то не поняла, фильм с Гейлом (что наврятли) или с Гейлом на этот фильм? )

I went out and bought a video camera the next day. I shot on the set. I shot at our cast dinners, birthday parties and outings. I shot at the premieres in New York and LA.
my home movie of stuff I experienced last year making QAF. I want to give it to cast and crew as a Holiday gift.
:heart:

уфф, теперь остался текст в комментах только)

Саша, спасибо!!!

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20.07.2011 в 15:03

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

блин, это я две недели не могла сюда дойти? ужоснахх, казалась только что...

yennifaire o, спасибо, отличная инфа)) юный скотти))
дневник щас не почитаю в перерыв, там куча всего
потом надо будет вернуться)
на здоровье)
так ты прочла или нет?))

~Lali~ какой красивый!
ага)

совсем забыла про это,
они же переживали эту трагедию во время съемок, вроде?
голова дырявая, надо срочно сообразить-вспомнить, когда второй начали снимать...
и в одном из видео есть, где ренди говорит об этом. постараюсь найти, уже хотела, когда твой камент прочла, но отвлеклась
от других я ничего об этом вроде не слышала не читала,

чё-то не поняла, фильм с Гейлом (что наврятли) или с Гейлом на этот фильм? )
с Гейлом на фильм

вообще ко всем вопрос - прочел кто-нить целиком? есть чего интересное?))
я когда просматривала, мне понравился момент про день окончания съемок... эээ... второго сезона, надо будет вытащить цитату... ваще хочется выборку сделать

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20.07.2011 в 15:27

Sapfira23

от других я ничего об этом вроде не слышала не читала, если мне склероз не изменяет, они у Шины об этом говорили..
а я все никак до конца ниасилю :alles:

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20.07.2011 в 15:50

moveforever

everybody’s a critic.(c) BK

Sapfira23 а я все никак до конца ниасилю
бгг.. ну не я одна такая))) утешает)

так, ну а собственно про когда начали второй, прям тут в тексте например есть
I've been back in Toronto since mid-August starting work on Season 2 of QAF

ну и я совсем склеротик, да, потому что дальше же как раз об этом, и я же это читала! перд тем как запостить (но в этом я тож кажется не одинока))

We were shooting some exterior scenes on 9/11/01 as events were unfolding down in the US. I never felt so far away from home. We suspended shooting for the day as it all of a sudden seemed kind of stupid to be making a TV show in light of the cruelty that had occurred. The cast and producers gathered back at my apartment here. We spent all day watching CNN in shock, waiting to get through to our friends and loved ones in NYC. By evening everyone was accounted for. I hope the same is true for all of you.
It took me a few days to feel comfortable "acting" while the world seemed to be crumbling. A beautiful friend of mine sent me the following quote that really helped. I hope it makes anyone out there questioning the role of creativity in this world feel a renewed sense of purpose.

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20.07.2011 в 20:54

yennifaire

"Personally, I would have been far more intrigued watching B/J read the phone book to each other than watching the Faerie Gathering or anything Ben/M ever did..."

Я не дошла пока)) а то что у него полно хоум видео с кастом - эхххх!!!!!! неужели не увидим никогда??

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