|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Jeff Balis - The Ladder Debacle
Although I get my ass kicked pretty hard in Episode 7, and I've got Pat Peach sticking knives in my back left and right, the scene that really makes me squirm is my aborted attempt to paint the second story windows of the burning house in Episode 8. Whew. What was I thinking?
It's one thing for me to watch the episodes and fume at the moments when I think the editing of the show makes me look like a jackass. As I'm sure most people are aware, the editing process of the TV show has a heavy influence on how the "reality" is depicted. Although everything in the show is real, if the editors string together several fuck-ups in a row then we look like morons. If they string several crisp moments of creative problem solving, we look like geniuses (which is probably a bigger departure from the truth than us looking stupid, but nevermind that).
As I sit watching some of the messier escapades on the show, it is very easy to blame those cruel editors for showing all my darkest moments. But dammit, the things that bug the shit out of me more than anything are the straight-up stupid things that I do and have no one else to blame. I wish I could defend them (even if just to myself) with, "that's not how it happened". Oh, but I can't.
The worst of these moments in my opinion is my debacle at the top of the 16' ladder. Wow, what a pussy. No other way to put it. That's how it happened. I climbed the ladder to paint the window frames, assessed the situation, and then retreated down the ladder-my brush never having touched the paint. I'm going to be laughed out of Home Depot forever. To make matters worse, real professionals, a.k.a. our talented art department, stepped in to effortlessly paint the windows a few minutes later.
In my defense-or should I say to justify it to myself so I can sleep at night-my thought process at top of the ladder was: holy shit, you are about to fuck things up really really badly. These are big windows, this is going to take a lot longer than you think, and how stupid am I going to look when the art department has to pull out cans of gray paint to cover-up all my sloppy splattering. I can't eat an ice cream cone without getting chocolate on my shirt; how am I going to paint these windows without making the first floor look like a Jackson Pollack?
Why I couldn't piece all this together from the ground before mounting the ladder is beyond me, but it is oh-so clear to me from the safety of my living room. Rest assured, though, that on future movies I have learned my lesson. If I ever get the bad idea to interfere with the art department and try to paint a second story window, I'm going to get one of those nifty Wagner Power Sprayers with the easy-clean, adjustable nozzles.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
