Round and Round...

Just saw the trailer for the new film “2012” that opens this weekend. Apparently, the Mayan Calendar signals the end of the world as we know it. Yeah, yeah, I’ve read the more sensible explanations as to what that December 21, 2012 date really signifies – how it’s all cyclical and the world’s not ending so much as it’s beginning again. Blah, blah, blah. Roland Emmerich can’t make a kick-ass disaster movie out of all that spiritual circle of life gobble-de-gook. He needs the world. to. end.

Oddly it reminded me of scene in the middle of “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs”, another disaster flick that’s been bringing in big audiences. As giant food falls from the sky a reporter notes that all the major capitals seem to be getting hit by the storm first before it spreads across the globe. So in “2012” we see the White House and St. Paul’s Cathedral crushing and being crushed, and then random other places are engulfed by the destruction. Thank goodness for the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and the Great Wall of China. No one wants to see a meteorite hit a cornfield in Nebraska. And a lot of people are actually hoping for the destruction of the crappy little towns they left behind after high school. So you gotta go for the big stuff. If the government can’t save the Golden Gate Bridge then we all are surely doomed.

It’s all about symbols, old and new. We give them power as surely as the gods themselves. The Hollywood sign signifies a town, an industry, a dream, while the lost knowledge of an ancient civilization equals mysticism and magic. Since humans first wandered the planet we have identified symbols and then gathered them around us to protect our friends and families and to wreak havoc on our enemies. Once we gazed into a fire and imagined our futures. Now we bask in the glow of a movie screen. If we are to believe the movie industry’s interpretation of that ancient calendar, we’ll soon be gazing into campfires again. We are as cyclical as the Mayans predicted...

Changing My Luck...

I just got back from Las Vegas and the BlogWorld Expo ’09. If you’ve been following along on my little blog, this might come as a distinct surprise. What’s an old-school TV production slave doing at a high-tech blogger convention? Adapting, that’s what. Apparently, there’s this thing called the internet and lots of folks are now gathering around this new campfire to get their info and entertainment. Shocking! And it turns out that underneath all the fancy lingo, it’s basically radio and television and newspaper all rolled up into one shiny “new and improved” package. (Yeah, the advertising biz is in there, up to its old tricks as well.)

So, the fact that I have too short of an attention span to specialize in one area of production is finally paying off. I can write and I can produce and I can yell at editors and I can calm divas and I can build a convention booth and I can make buttons with one of those hand press badge makers. Oh, yeah, baby, I can do it ALL! Which, it seems, is the secret to success in cyberspace.

Now I’m multi-tasking across the media spectrum. I’m still shooting interviews for various outlets like the BBC, I’m still writing for the John Tesh Radio show, and I’m still doing what I can for the Motion Picture & Television Fund. But as of today I am officially taking off on another adventure – I’m the new Managing Editor of WhatGives.com. (balloons fall from ceiling; confetti cannons erupt)

It’s all very exciting and I hope it’s a journey that leads to a more focused life. I have been working for others my entire life. Helping others bring their ideas and dreams to fruition. I’m ready to be a little more selfish and try to make more visible what I care about. So you’ll be hearing about non-profits and giving back. And you’ll be hearing about history and new science. HEY, WAKE UP. This is great stuff, people…

Strike Up The Band

It’s Labor Day weekend and all I can say is, hallelujah, summer is over. It’s been a crap summer with not nearly enough work, super low cash flow, and as a special parting gift, a nice fire-filled heat wave. I’m ready for the back-to-school feeling that always perks me up every fall.

Yeah, that’s right I’m that geeky girl who always believed that this school year would be better somehow. Inevitably, I remained the not-cool, not-pretty, not-popular girl I always was, but I was lucky enough to be in a school that had enough of us that we had a good time anyway. Others might make fun of marching band kids, but when there are 100 of you, it’s easier to circle the tubas and ignore the wise cracks. Not invited to the cheerleader’s party at the country club? No worries. One of the drama dweebs has a pool and a case of Diet Dr. Pepper. Rock on.

(yeah, that first drummer is me)

So as football takes over weekend TV and Halloween costumes start creeping into the drugstore aisles, once again I’m ogling the rainbow of highlighters and dreaming of new projects that will need some color-coding. My usual goulash of freelance work is slowly picking up and I’m hopeful that the recession’s death grip on Hollywood is easing a bit. I’m also seeing opportunities spread across a wider spectrum of media. I’m writing for websites and for radio; producing short-form documentary videos and helping a non-profit take its first tentative steps into social media. Telling a good story is key in any format, I’m happy to say.

So, bring it on, Fall. Hit me with the deadlines and the cooler temperatures and the inevitable Christmas-is-too-commercial piece for local news. I’ve got a new backpack, glue sticks, and a bunch of spiral notebooks. Maybe this year the cute boy in biology will be my lab partner. Hey, it could happen!

Nobles of the Mystic Shrine*

We’ve been staying pretty close to home base these days. We’re editing the SCi about why we need to believe in “the other”, working on the website, organizing the November conference and generally messing about in boats, so to speak. But of course, the elephant in the room is Dan Brown’s Lost Symbol coming out in September. The glare of a very large spotlight will soon hit us squarely in the face as people await Simon’s next best-selling companion book. The publishers expect Simon’s manuscript on their desk two weeks after Brown’s book is released. Simon won’t be getting a sneak peek or advance copy. He will simply read Brown’s book on September 15 and then work non-stop to create the unauthorized, authoritative guide in 14 short days. They want Decoding the Lost Symbol on the shelves by November 1. Oh my. Can old school publishing somehow meet the new media demands of instant mass distribution?

Simon is back in the UK right now. Sort of “in training” for the writing process. He’s been reading every book he can get his hands on that might relate to the many hints Brown’s publisher has been releasing regarding the mysterious subject matter. Freemasonry, the Founding Fathers, symbols and maps, clues and imagery – all centered in Washington, DC, the most symbol-filled city in the US. Simon reads and summarizes and cross-references and fills book margins with his own illegible “symbols” that will help him quickly create Decoding.

Of course, I’m trying to be supportive but I’m following my usual pattern of getting completely ahead of myself. I’m totally distracted by what I’m pretty sure is going to be a super fun production for Unlocking the Lost Symbol’s DVD.

See, I love Washington, DC. I get all caught up in the history and the beauty and the, well, symbolism of the place. I was a snare drummer in my high school and college marching bands, so I know all those John Phillip Sousa marches* backwards and forwards – the minute I step onto the National Mall, the piccolo part from “Stars and Stripes Forever” starts whistling through my head, and I can’t stop smiling.

I joined Henu Productions because it provided the opportunity to learn about subjects and visit places that I find deliciously evocative and enticing. Cairo and Kabul. Tiahuanaco and Taklamakan. Wewelsburg and Washington. Atlantis and Area 51. Oh, right, Area 51. Back to the editing room for SCi’s “Little Green Men and Other Strange Beliefs.” But soon, we’ll cross the Potomac…

It's in the Cards

She looked so normal. I mean, no crystal ball or turban or creepy, unidentifiable accent. Just, well, normal. But she was about to read the tarot cards for our beloved leader, Simon Cox, do a little light palmistry, and then identify his inner animal spirit guides. Fantastic!

Our trusty director of photography, Joel, was doing his best to get some good shots in Krista’s comfy, but small alcove off the Bodhi Tree Bookstore in Los Angeles. I was helping. (Really, I was. I had a clipboard and everything.) As Simon continues his investigation into why we believe, we were there to find out more about people who look to psychics and card reading for guidance.

And then, with no fanfare whatsoever, she began dealing the cards and talking. It was fascinating to watch because she wasn’t making a big deal of anything or asking Simon any leading questions. She was just kind of calling it as she saw it. No big revelations, but certainly some valid insights into Simon’s personality.

The palmistry was fun because it was determined that Simon’s lifeline runs right off his hand. Yes, you read it here first. Simon Cox is immortal. But the best part was the whole animal spirit guide thing. If you are a fan of this set of cards, I apologize in advance for my rudimentary understanding of how it is supposed to work. What I did understand is that the dog, wolf, badger, and wild boar all represent aspects of Simon’s personality at different times in his life. And as Krista expounded on the traits that go along with those animals, it seemed to me to be remarkably accurate description of Simon.

As we were leaving she mentioned that one of the cards dealt had to do with building and was often associated with Freemasonry. We all had to smile since Simon’s next book will be the companion book for Dan Brown’s “Lost Symbol,” which many people believe will explore the secret society of Freemasonry.

Just a coincidence, right?

Red Lights, White Mailboxes, and Little Green Men

So a few weeks ago we were on the road to Area 51. Five people, camera gear, luggage, and a substantial bag o’ snacks crammed into a Cadillac Escalade with flames painted on each side. We rocketed north out Los Angeles towards the far side of Vegas – a seemingly endless swath of dust, cacti, and occasional bomb craters officially known as the Nellis Air Force Base Test and Training Ranges.

We’ve all known each other for a while – years even – but this was our first road trip together. I was in the backseat, in the middle. The spot I fondly remember from my youth as the “hump seat” due to the lump in the floorboard caused by the driveshaft running underneath the family car. Modern technology has smoothed out the floors of today’s vehicles, so that wasn’t an issue. But the feeling that my siblings were going to start flicking me in the back of the head at any minute never quite went away.

With nothing of particular interest speeding past our windows, we were a captive audience for Ace and Simon, who declared themselves the trip DJs and began to “educate” the rest of us. Two bigger music fans I have never met. Their depth of knowledge and range of musical taste was astounding and a little bit frightening. Both have been band tour managers so there wasn’t just running commentary about the music, there was info on the band members, producers, record labels, groupies, and all sorts of random minutia.

Soon, mercifully, they were so busy entertaining each other that they forgot about those of us in the backseat. Joel (DP), Jen (Exec Prod), and I chatted about nothing in particular, although there was a delightful interlude during which we described our favorite Dairy Queen treats. Good times.

We were off to shoot our first series for Simon Cox Investigates – “Little Green Men and Other Strange Beliefs.” Along the way we shopped at the Alien Beef Jerky store in Baker, traveled the Extra Terrestrial Highway, marveled at the giant metal man in front of the Alien Research Center, chatted with the locals at the Little A’Le’Inn, and watched the night skies near the legendary Black Mailbox (now painted white). It seemed like the little red lights on our cameras were always lit and it was great.

Our journey to the gates Nellis AFB Ranges containing Area 51 (aka “Dreamland,” “Paradise Ranch,” and “the Box”) was one of the highlights of the trip. In movies people are always breaking into top secret places or smuggling out top secret documents, but when you come up against a real place with real warning signs and real guys with real guns, well, your perspective changes a bit. The military has every intention of keeping the secrets within those gates, including whatever monkey business that may have occurred in Area 51. The “camo dudes” (armed guards in camouflage gear) positioned on surrounding hills spend their hot, dusty days watching the roads for potential threats – and for idiots who think it would be fun to step over the line just to see what happens. Putting a boot on the neck of such a prankster would totally make their day. So, when an unmarked truck suddenly came down the road towards us while we were filming, we immediately decided that, hey, maybe we have enough footage of this area, you know? Maybe it was time to head back to town. Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. And the flame-painted Escalade made a neat little U-turn and we skedaddled.

Before we said our farewells to Rachel, Nevada, and the surrounding area, we interviewed the owner of the Little A’le’Inn (“aliens are among us; they take over our bodies…”), a woman behind the counter at a local gas station (“those lights are just Air Force maneuvers…”), and other folks with varying opinions about what they believe, what others believe, and why it all seems to matter so much. FYI, no one at the Dairy Queen in Baker seemed to have a strong opinion about the subject, but the Blizzards and the Dip Cones were most excellent.

Can’t wait to show you the footage. (teaser!!) I’ll let you know when it’s gonna hit the website.

Nani Pilikia

Hawai’i. So alluring. A siren song. Years of advertising and marketing campaigns combined with all the stories from friends and loved ones about dreamy honeymoons or perfect family vacations have created visions of paradise in the minds of the multitudes. And traditionally, the multitudes come. But not so much lately. Apparently even tropical Edens have been hit hard by the economy and the N1H1 virus. Hotel room occupancy is way down in our 50th state and that is bad news for a local economy that rises and falls on the number of folks that annually decide to release their inner surfer.

I recently visited four islands (in eight days – not recommended for those looking to relax!) as part of a promotional tour sponsored by the state tourism office. I was a behind-the-scenes person, not one of the guest travel writers invited to see Hawai’i and spread the word that it’s as beautiful as everyone says it is, but not as expensive as you think. Like any destination that you’ve built up in your mind for years (I’d never visited before), it was both better than I hoped and less than I expected. There is no argument that it is beautiful. Kaua’i is quiet and ruggedly beautiful with curvy roads and small towns. Maui is built up but still retains a quiet, soothing soul.

The Big Island of Hawai’i is a contrast of tropical lushness and stark lava fields created by the still-active volcano at its center. The disappointment is Honolulu and Waikiki with its over-built beachfront, clogged streets, designer shops, and over-priced, ever-present mai-tais. A shopping mecca for foreign travelers or perhaps visitors from smaller American towns; a lively club scene for party seekers; an urban mess for those looking for a quiet walk on the beach or a glimpse of native Hawai’i.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

But it’s not the Hawai’i I was interested in. My favorite moment was in Wailea on Maui a few hundred yards off the beach, standing on a paddleboard. Yes, there was much standing and falling, kneeling and falling, and every variation therein, but once I was standing more than swimming, it was wonderful. And I felt like, for that instant, I was really there. Really in the Hawai’i you see on the postcards.

And it can be done on a budget. There are airfare deals and hotel packages and moderately priced food to be had if you’re willing to do a little research. And the locals are happy to point out their favorite places to grab a quick bite or rent a kayak for less that the big resorts would charge. So I think the message got out through the guest writers that Hawai’i was still a reasonable destination in these belt-tightening times. And, hey, I had a fine time. I got a free trip to Hawai’i. Not too shabby.

Oh, wait, that’s the other thing. I suddenly found myself in the middle of a controversy about the fact that this trip was comped for the writers. They weren’t paid for their time or work. No restrictions were placed on what they could and could not write about. But their airfare, hotels, and most expenses were covered by state tourism money. Which means the government. Was it journalism or was it marketing disguised as journalism? Numerous people whose opinions I respect weighed in on a point, counter-point discussion that grew heated. It was a valid debate that brought up a lot of interesting points about how content on the web is presented and perceived. But I felt it was directed at the wrong group of people. All our writers made it very clear in all their postings that the trip was sponsored by the state of Hawai’i. Everyone talked about how we were traveling in a group and sharing experiences and rental cars. It couldn’t have been more transparent. And yet, there was criticism that the writers weren’t like “real” journalists who never take “freebies” so their souls remain pure. Well, if you’re writing about prostitution rings being run out of Hawai’ian resorts, independence from the corporate owner of those resorts is important, even necessary. But if you’re writing about a local restaurant you stumbled upon one evening or how much fun it is to paddleboard, does it make your story less valid if someone else bought the plane ticket (and you told your audience that fact)?

I’m sure there are many online writers and bloggers who aren’t as scrupulous as those who participated in this project. I understand the idea of a slippery slope that we must guard against that might send us back to the bad old days of advertiser controlled media content. But I think online there is a much stricter supervisor than we realize. If someone reads a blog and doesn’t (a) want or need the information, (b) like the style of writing, or (c) trust the writer/source, that user is g-o-n-e, gone. During the discussion of the potential conflicts of writing a review while on someone else’s dime, one writer talked about how she strives to be as transparent as possible while providing information to her audience. Her final thought regarding the result is a good one: It’s not up to us (the writers), it’s up to them (the users). They will make their preferences known in a swift and often heartless manner. And that’s the way it should be. Mendacity should not be tolerated by anyone – on either side of the computer screen.

All Aboard

Anyone who thinks American women are struggling with their body image haven’t been on a cruise lately. Never have I seen such a celebration of the feminine silhouette than on a recent jaunt to Mexico. Women of all ages and ALL sizes were strutting the Lido deck in bathing suits that often defied the magical properties of spandex. No one seemed concerned about the lack of makeup or snarl of bad hair or excess flaps of skin. The men were equally oblivious of their own flaws, but they are delusional creatures about their appearance most of the time anyway.

I purposely lost 5 pounds and sat outside to try and get a tiny bit of a tan before the trip because I was sure I would be the huge pasty redhead everyone was staring at. But then, I live in Hollywood where the standards are, well, slightly skewed. But it’s coast-to-coast America on board a cruise ship – even the one I was on which was filled with a 30-something crowd of rock music lovers. It was certainly obvious that there is a growing obesity problem in this country, but equally obvious was that a few extra pounds is not keeping people from doing whatever the “pretty” people do. All those weight loss commercials feature such miserable, unhappy people who have lost the will to live. And I’m sure there are many people out there who are frustrated with their weight. But the truth is we appear to be healthier – at least mentally – than all the magazines and infomercials would have us believe.


Of course, we should all watch our weight and eat healthy and exercise and all that. But to see so many women in bathing suits who are not “perfect” is refreshing. And I must admit that to see many of these women with loving, happy husbands is, honestly, a relief. Men’s magazines may be filled with some perfect, airbrushed, bleached idea of female perfection, but most guys seem to realize that a good woman comes in all shapes and sizes. And that makes them beautiful.