Have you been watching too much TV like me? Do you work until you feel like your brain is fried, so you plop down in front of what my brother lovingly refers to as “The Boob Tube” and veg?

I do.

It’s getting so I don’t just have favorite movies or favorite shows; I have Favorite Commercials!
You know that one that Nissan does? The one with the Italian sounding music in the background? It sounds like the mafia is sneaking up on this poor bastard hiding in the trash cans in the alley and then…
He stops and looks around like "Where are the gu..."
But before he gets to say "Guys?" all his friends pop out of the silently stalking Nissan and attack their buddy with water balloons.
He's barraged with explosions of water in the face and chest, and as he falls backwards in slow motion, you see he didn’t even get off his first shot.
He is still holding his water bomb. It dangles from his fingers as he slowly sinks to the ground just like a "Gangsta Movie!"
All his Gangsta friends hop in their stealth car and drive away.

It’s just so perfect.

It's something you've always wanted to do to your brother.

Okay, I’m really sick, I know. It's like I need my commercial fix. I admit it. I am beginning to love commercials. Living in LA does that to you. You start looking for your neighbors in them. You start wondering, is that the guy I saw at Starbucks yesterday? Hey, he looks good.
Then a classic comes on like the car commercial that has that really cool music “Shunk, Shunk, Shunk” and everything moves in sinc with the music. Have you seen that one?
Man, this is something I’ve wanted to film forever. I’m always driving along in my car listening to something loud with a beat and suddenly everyone, even that fat guy over there, is jiggling to my car song. I’m sort of relieved that those commercial people finally did film it. It just feels so good to watch, like my itch has finally been scratched.

And wait a minute; speaking of itchy hives, will someone please shoot the company that did that repugnant bbq chicken ad? You know the one where the guys compete for who has the most disgusting looking drool all over their face? I'd rather watch the ad for that mini series where the dump a dead body into the ocean wrapped in chains or the one for the air freshener that destroys "BROWN" air spots, you know the one with the English Sheep dog that's been drinking from the toilet? TV producers please, do not show that chicken ad again! AND if you see it, change the channel in protest every time it comes on! SHEEESH!

Okay, I'm calmed down.

There’s another thing I do when I watch TV now too. I count scene changes and camera angles. This is remarkable when you start doing it. It makes you realize how much goes into the production of say…a commercial. It’s amazing. Is it just me or are you noticing that the car commercials are really cool? And really major productions! Do you know how many camera angles are in the "Shunk" commercial?
Well, I guess the car companies have the money.
Yeah. They get the big names too. The car companies and the cell phone companies. Have you seen the new Verizon Wireless commercial? James Earl Jones does break dancing in it. Okay, I do not believe he can do that. It took me a minute because I am blonde, but that was not James Earl Jones's body. His head yes, but not his body.

I did my usual hunt for celebrities in hiding this week. I went to lunch with another writer and forced her to edit my drivel, and I could have sworn that what’s that guys name? That famous producer director umm Spalding Grey, no, Steve Spaulding.. no…Speral…no Speilberg! That ’s it!
Steven Speilberg sat behind us in a booth at Du Pars.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t him, but it LOOKED LIKE HIM!
He wore a baseball cap and had a beard! That’s close enough for me.
He was listening to every word we said like he was developing his next film script (which in LA is not that far fetched.)
So as I handed my friend a check, I whispered, "And when we get really rich next week..." and then I turned up my volume, "I'LL WRITE YOU A CHECK FOR $30,000, OKAY?"
So Mister Speilberg in his baseball cap would know we were major players.
Then I whispered, "You did buy your lottery ticket didn't you?"
Speilberg got up and left. I don't think he believed me. My friend's giggling didn't help.
I just wish my conjones were made of brass because then maybe I would have got his autograph. Heck, he could have signed “Looks like Steven Speilberg, ” I would have been happy.

When it comes to meeting celebrities or actors who play smaller parts in lesser known movies or just people who look like they might be smarter than me, (which doesn’t leave that many people left for me to feel comfortable with) well, I’m just not brave enough to meet them.

For instance, a really cool thing happened to me this week. I lost my atm card.
That doesn’t sound cool, but what happened was... I was at the park with the dogs, and I met this guy that well, he was sort of hesitant in his speech, and he let fly that he was LWM - living with his mother, and he was out of a job and well… I started trying to think of ways that I could exit quickly.
You know in the doggie park there are people lying on the grass under trees and some of them are seeking solitude and inspiration. And some of them are... bums, which maybe is another name for a "writer" because they both make about the same in salary, I think.
They should wear signs to make it easier to understand who is who.
"Hello, I'm a bum." or "Hello, I'm a writer who actually is not that much different than a bum because I make about the same money."
Just so you could know who the players are.
In LA, that description of LWM could mean he made enough money to retire, and he’s visiting his mom while he’s building his house in Paris, but I err on the side of caution.
So I left, dropped off the dogs, and when I got to the Starbucks, I went to pay my bill and my purse was already unzipped and my atm was missing.

Yeah, I thought that too.

That guy at the park was out of work. He’s - LWM. And he stole my card. And he seemed so nice in an odd sort of way.
Well, I freaked out. I tore everything apart. I drove back home and searched the house. I searched the car. I searched Starbucks. I looked in the trash.
Nothing.
Nada.
No dice.

So I gave in and called my bank and canceled my card. Damn.
" I'm probably just being suspicious, but I searched everywhere. I do not want to believe that humans are cruel,but, but..." I sniffed to the customer service agent.
" Oh, you'll find it don't worry. I'm sure you will. Now, you be sure and have a good day Mrs. Wood. You deserve it."
(Which made my inner "What a Sweetie!" switch on.)

I drove home sadly feeling disillusioned with the world. I flung my arm across my forehead kind of dramatically and thought - LA is just another city where people are... heartless.
I sat down in front of my keyboard, weeping with my cupa carmel macchiato and flipped open my email.

There was a message from a guy named “Dave,” saying he found my ATM card?
I wondered; How the heck does he know my email? Is this a trick?
Is he in cahoots with the LWM guy?
Am I just being suspicious?
But I decided to call him.

He found my ATM card in the parking garage below Starbucks! Since it had my company name on it, he looked me up on the web and emailed me. See, my card says, “Hazel Street Productions.”
“We producers have to stick together,” Dave said.
“Are you a producer?”
“Yes, I’m in a small company (something) Glick. Maybe you’ve heard of us?”
In my head, I was thinking, Oh, my God, Oh my God, Oh my God! Did he say Glick? I’ve heard that name!
“So what have you produced?” I asked trying to sound casual like I'm just another producer. Yeah, I eat produce.
Then he begins naming off commercials and TV shows and movies “We just did the commercial for …” Here’s where he named some movies that have just been released, which stunned me so badly that I have completely erased the memory. Massive white space is all that is left. I mean it’s like someone says, “And this is mister Speil...”
All I hear in my head is this loud static noise.
So while I am basking in this enormous brain fart, he says, “Are you a producer?”
And I say “Well, Dave, my production company is just me, so it’s simply HUGE!”
And he laughs and says I can come to his company and pick up my card anytime.

So now, for over a week, I have been thinking of driving to "whatever Glick Productions" and picking up my ATM card. And…
I haven’t done it.

Because I am not just a HUGE production company; I am a HUGE Chicken.

“PAWK!”

Pray that a vat of brass suddenly tips in my direction aiming for my lower portions.
I have got to meet this Producer. Not just because it’s way cool, but also to thank him for restoring my faith in California and people in general. And especially, for restoring my feelings for the guy in the park who is probably enjoying his latte in Paris now.

I mean if everyone “was out to get me,” they would have gotten me by now; wouldn’t you think?

Clap in sinc if you think this would make a good bank commercial?

That’s the latest from La La Land.

Now, fine folks, your job if you choose to accept it is to email Carol Wood at Carol@hazelst.com And tell her to be brave!

(Can't you just hear the Mission Impossible music?)