Saturday, December 22, 2007
December 21
Weighed myself this morning, I'm at 165.5, about my college weight. (I've actually been on a diet since August 2006 when the Wife said I was looking rather large and I told her she was nuts, then secretly weighed myself and saw that I was 181 and looked like John Goodman. I was supposed to be around 170. I've been see-sawing ever since, but a borderline cholesterol rating a few months back led me to redouble my efforts. As a result I'm turning into Bridget Jones with the daily scale visit -- it's sort of an ironic pedestal. Not a bad idea for a sculpture, carved out of a single piece of marble, a fat guy in a David-pose on a scale. Too bad I don't have a giant piece of marble or any sculpting ability.) Read the paper. Had turkey sandwich with tomato-hummus spread for lunch. Treated self to handful of cashew nuts. Went to the gym. Made quesadillas for dinner. Rented some videos for first time in months. Wife put Baby to bed. Had some wine right before starting Harry Potter and started to pass out before Harry returned to Hogwarts. Brewed up some hot chocolate to give myself a boost, drank the hot chocolate and passed out anyway. Woke up contorted in a painful position on the floor during the final scene of Superbad. Must watch everything during baby's nap on the morrow. Oh, man, depression about loss of Lost just hit me.
Friday, December 21, 2007
How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Strike
ADVICE FROM BELOW-THE-LINE
I’m not a WGA member, so when the strike hit and my glamorous TV production job evaporated I was initially furious with the writers and studio chiefs for not coming to an agreement. The studio chiefs got to keep working. The writers got to hang out together, rekindle old friendships and get some exercise on the picket lines. I, on the other hand, had absolutely nothing to do. The big agencies in town lavished the writers with delicious pizza pies, heartwarming churros, and mile-long party subs at the various studio gates. Big stars hugged and kissed them in public, and by extension YouTube. They got to sport stylish bespoke t-shirts. Meanwhile, I was stuck at home by myself in yesterday’s funky pajamas. I received no affectionate pats on the butt from Angelina Jolie and had to make do with low-fat yogurt. Quickly, though, I learned that rage combined with powerlessness leads to acid reflux, and boredom combined with powerlessness leads to abject terror about the future, then acid reflux. I had to do something. After a series of epiphanies, I came up with a list of thrilling, productive, potential ways to spend my time that I hope will comfort and inspire my fellow below-the-line employees (grips, electricians, camera people, costumers, prop masters and others) with no job prospects or marketable skills in the real world.
Go to Costco – 3-7 hours per day. It’s best only to have one or two items you need to buy. Slowly walk up and down the aisles looking at things you don’t need. Have a nutritious meal comprised of free samples. Bring sunglasses and a baseball cap to disguise yourself so you can double or triple up on these tasty morsels without provoking dirty looks from the servers. Drive home, if you still have one, only to realize you “forgot” to purchase glucosamine chondroitin. Return and repeat above steps.
Watch TV – .5-22 hours per day. Some foolish critics thought the strike would be a boon to publishers – “maybe people will pick up a book.” They were dead wrong, there’s still plenty of stuff to see other than new episodes of CSI. Aside from the endless Lucy and Andy Griffith loops, I could watch Sandra Lee and Giada De Laurentiis for hours. While my powers of imagination are honed by their tight sweaters or low-cut blouses, I get great ideas for the dinners I now have time to prepare for my working wife.
Clean House – 1 hour per day. Each morning on her way out my blushing bride is kind enough to “suggest” a task to occupy me in the hopes of reducing my malaise. Our sinks, toilets and grout lines are now brighter than the sun. You could lick peanut butter off our window sills. Our dryer, home, and entire neighborhood are completely lint-free.
Write Something – 2 hours total for duration of strike (projected). Now is a great time to work on that novel or Hollywood-insider tell-all you’ve been dreaming about. I personally revisited a short story I meant to finish in high school. After one and a half hours I gave up because Hildy was painting some old lady’s den chartreuse on Trading Spaces and I had to see what happened. But I still spent quality time doing something that I never would have done if I were working!
Read - .1-.4 hours per day. Don’t despair, this isn’t actually about the arduous task of reading. Dust off that old Henry James novel you bought three years ago at the Salvation Army thrift shop and lay down on your back in bed. For added excitement, attach your Itty Bitty Book Light. Within .1 to .4 hours you will be dead asleep for 5-11 hours, meaning you’ll end up spending at least half a day productively.
Invest Wisely – 3 hours of preparation, a lifetime of happiness. Worried about your car payment or phone bill? Call up one of your college friends who foolishly chose a boring career in finance and ask him or her for some stock tips. Plow your remaining “cushion” into whatever companies he or she suggests and watch it grow exponentially. Leave “the business” and start remodeling your new house on the Vineyard next door to Larry David or some retired former Cheers writer.
Change Careers – 6 months – 12 years. Lots of people I know who became disgruntled with showbiz even in the good old days got real estate licenses and made a killing. What the heck, right? The housing market is sure to bounce back before the strike ends. Barring that, you may have to try a bit harder but it’s never too late for business school, law school or even medical school. You probably should have earned a professional degree years ago as a safety net anyhow. At least that’s what my mother tells me.
Good luck and have fun!
I’m not a WGA member, so when the strike hit and my glamorous TV production job evaporated I was initially furious with the writers and studio chiefs for not coming to an agreement. The studio chiefs got to keep working. The writers got to hang out together, rekindle old friendships and get some exercise on the picket lines. I, on the other hand, had absolutely nothing to do. The big agencies in town lavished the writers with delicious pizza pies, heartwarming churros, and mile-long party subs at the various studio gates. Big stars hugged and kissed them in public, and by extension YouTube. They got to sport stylish bespoke t-shirts. Meanwhile, I was stuck at home by myself in yesterday’s funky pajamas. I received no affectionate pats on the butt from Angelina Jolie and had to make do with low-fat yogurt. Quickly, though, I learned that rage combined with powerlessness leads to acid reflux, and boredom combined with powerlessness leads to abject terror about the future, then acid reflux. I had to do something. After a series of epiphanies, I came up with a list of thrilling, productive, potential ways to spend my time that I hope will comfort and inspire my fellow below-the-line employees (grips, electricians, camera people, costumers, prop masters and others) with no job prospects or marketable skills in the real world.
Go to Costco – 3-7 hours per day. It’s best only to have one or two items you need to buy. Slowly walk up and down the aisles looking at things you don’t need. Have a nutritious meal comprised of free samples. Bring sunglasses and a baseball cap to disguise yourself so you can double or triple up on these tasty morsels without provoking dirty looks from the servers. Drive home, if you still have one, only to realize you “forgot” to purchase glucosamine chondroitin. Return and repeat above steps.
Watch TV – .5-22 hours per day. Some foolish critics thought the strike would be a boon to publishers – “maybe people will pick up a book.” They were dead wrong, there’s still plenty of stuff to see other than new episodes of CSI. Aside from the endless Lucy and Andy Griffith loops, I could watch Sandra Lee and Giada De Laurentiis for hours. While my powers of imagination are honed by their tight sweaters or low-cut blouses, I get great ideas for the dinners I now have time to prepare for my working wife.
Clean House – 1 hour per day. Each morning on her way out my blushing bride is kind enough to “suggest” a task to occupy me in the hopes of reducing my malaise. Our sinks, toilets and grout lines are now brighter than the sun. You could lick peanut butter off our window sills. Our dryer, home, and entire neighborhood are completely lint-free.
Write Something – 2 hours total for duration of strike (projected). Now is a great time to work on that novel or Hollywood-insider tell-all you’ve been dreaming about. I personally revisited a short story I meant to finish in high school. After one and a half hours I gave up because Hildy was painting some old lady’s den chartreuse on Trading Spaces and I had to see what happened. But I still spent quality time doing something that I never would have done if I were working!
Read - .1-.4 hours per day. Don’t despair, this isn’t actually about the arduous task of reading. Dust off that old Henry James novel you bought three years ago at the Salvation Army thrift shop and lay down on your back in bed. For added excitement, attach your Itty Bitty Book Light. Within .1 to .4 hours you will be dead asleep for 5-11 hours, meaning you’ll end up spending at least half a day productively.
Invest Wisely – 3 hours of preparation, a lifetime of happiness. Worried about your car payment or phone bill? Call up one of your college friends who foolishly chose a boring career in finance and ask him or her for some stock tips. Plow your remaining “cushion” into whatever companies he or she suggests and watch it grow exponentially. Leave “the business” and start remodeling your new house on the Vineyard next door to Larry David or some retired former Cheers writer.
Change Careers – 6 months – 12 years. Lots of people I know who became disgruntled with showbiz even in the good old days got real estate licenses and made a killing. What the heck, right? The housing market is sure to bounce back before the strike ends. Barring that, you may have to try a bit harder but it’s never too late for business school, law school or even medical school. You probably should have earned a professional degree years ago as a safety net anyhow. At least that’s what my mother tells me.
Good luck and have fun!
December 20
Big day. Walked the dog in the morning. Planned to cut down the birds of paradise in the front yard, but it rained, so I played Scrabulous until I got carpal tunnel syndrome. Then I journeyed to North Hollywood for an oil change and to have my mechanic check the funny noise coming from the front, right wheel of the car. No matter how many times we drove around the block neither of us heard the noise. Hopefully it just went away. I did not hear the noise on the way home, as you would expect. In the afternoon I read that the WGA will be negotiating with individual companies. This doesn't seem to have the potential to do more than a handful of people much good, but whatever. Fell asleep while doing the crossword puzzle. For dinner we had overcooked halibut, a total disaster. And the Carvel ice cream cake I got for the Wife's birthday had melted a bit and refroze, so it was more like eating Italian ices. The Baby had two huge pieces. I got a stomach ache.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Coq au Vin a la Veder
Another easy recipe from The Lazy Chef. Pat some boneless, skinless chicken breasts dry. Sprinkle with pepper (no salt) and fry in a skillet with a bit of olive oil until golden. Put in an oven-safe pot or pyrex-type dish. Add enough red wine to reach the halfway mark on the chicken breasts. Take a medium yellow onion and slice off the bottom root. Chop into quarters, keeping enough of the top to maintain the integrity of the quarters. Plop them into the pot. Smash and peel four garlic cloves, throw them in the pot. Add about six sprigs of fresh thyme or a teaspoon of ground thyme. Add a half cup or so of chicken stock (if you're using bullion that's why you don't need salt on the chicken breasts, if you're using very low sodium or homemade stock, add salt to taste above). The stock should just cover the chicken. Cook in a 350 degree oven for a couple of hours. Strain out liquid and reduce by half in sauce pan, then thicken with corn starch. Plate and pour generous amount of sauce on chicken. You can cook this longer for more tender chicken, or cut the chicken into smaller pieces.
December 19
Exciting day. Did some reading in the AM. Drove over to Joann Fabrics to get some stuff for the Wife. The place was a madhouse. Had to wait 15 minutes to park. There was so much quilting paraphernalia and estrogen floating around in there that I started ovulating. Bought my assigned goods and returned home. Ate turkey sandwich for lunch. Went to the gym and Trader Joe's. Got home and cooked delicious dinner of stir-fried baby bok choy, brown mushrooms and tofu with onions, garlic, ginger and soy sauce. Wife had a meeting so played with Baby and put her to bed at 8 PM. Fell asleep holding Baby and awoke on the floor of her room at 10:30 PM. Perceived loss of time caused me to stay awake until 2 AM.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Instant Paella
Go to Valencia (Spain) and get yourself some saffron. It's much cheaper over there. Pack your saffron in your suitcase and go out for some paella at a non-touristy restaurant. It will be amazing. Return home to the US and have some paella at a local Spanish restaurant. It may be excellent, but it won't be nearly as good as what you had in Valencia. Buy a paella pan and the proper kind of rice and cook paella in your house using a recipe from a book about Spanish cooking. It may be excellent, but it will take a long time and won't be nearly as good as what you had in Valenica. That's why I came up with this recipe I call "instant paella." It's much easier to make than real paella and it's pretty good, as long as you accept the fact that it won't be nearly as good as what you had in Valencia, or as good as real paella. So here goes. (Purists should shut down their computers immediately.)
Put a couple of cups of rice in a good rice cooker. Instead of water, use chicken stock or shrimp stock, preferably low sodium. Then sprinkle in about half a teaspoon of saffron threads, stir it all around, and cook the rice. When it is done add a bunch of frozen, pre-cooked shrimp and peas and stir it around. Keep the rice cooker plugged in on "warm" until the shrimp heat through. Meanwhile, cook some sausages - lamb sausages are good, and chicken or turkey links work well, too. I'm not a big fan of sage-heavy sausages in this recipe. You could also saute some boneless, skinless chicken breasts in olive oil. Put the rice/shrimp mixure in a big bowl and stir in the sausage and chicken. If you really want to go crazy get a lobster steamed and cleaned at the market and throw in some lobster meat. Serve with warm bread. Think of all the money you saved by buying saffron in Spain.
Put a couple of cups of rice in a good rice cooker. Instead of water, use chicken stock or shrimp stock, preferably low sodium. Then sprinkle in about half a teaspoon of saffron threads, stir it all around, and cook the rice. When it is done add a bunch of frozen, pre-cooked shrimp and peas and stir it around. Keep the rice cooker plugged in on "warm" until the shrimp heat through. Meanwhile, cook some sausages - lamb sausages are good, and chicken or turkey links work well, too. I'm not a big fan of sage-heavy sausages in this recipe. You could also saute some boneless, skinless chicken breasts in olive oil. Put the rice/shrimp mixure in a big bowl and stir in the sausage and chicken. If you really want to go crazy get a lobster steamed and cleaned at the market and throw in some lobster meat. Serve with warm bread. Think of all the money you saved by buying saffron in Spain.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Confession: The WGA Strike Is Probably All My Fault
Contrary to popular opinion, I'm pretty sure the WGA strike doesn't have anything to do with residuals. See, about two years ago I went to this little, tiny car wash that's part of a gas station in Culver City. Due to the placement of the car wash, if more than two cars are in line to get into the car wash the line usually extends into one of the gas pump areas. If people are actually pumping gas in this area, thereby blocking the space where the car wash line would logically go, people tend to line up on the side, so the line would be kind of L-shaped, or a backwards L, or an upside-down T if people are on both sides. The point is, one day there were three cars in line and lots of people pumping gas, so I ended up pulling my car up to the left of the line, making me fourth in line. Since I had a coupon for a regular car wash I didn't need to get out of my car and go into the mini-mart to pay. If you don't have the coupon you have to go inside and pay and they give you this sign to put on top of your car that says "WASH" to show the attendant that you paid. Seconds after I pulled up, a fancy import pulled up on the right side on the line. This guy who looked just like Peter Chernin,the head of Fox (!), got out of the car and went inside and came back with a "WASH" sign. I don't know what he was doing at this modest car wash on a Saturday afternoon, I figured he'd normally have his car detailed on the lot by his fourth assistant. Maybe there was an incident with a flock of crows or something while he was shopping at Target. Anyway, by the time he returned the other cars in line were getting ready to pull up and he and I both started to pull up behind them, from opposite directions. I was slightly ahead of him and he became red faced and honked at me. I stood my automotive ground and he got out of his car and started yelling at me that I was cutting. I got out and politely told him there was no need to yell because I was in fact in line before him. He said I didn't even have a sign. I told him why I didn't have a sign, because I didn't need a sign. He seemed deeply embarrassed, then noticed I was wearing a 3rd Rock from the Sun baseball cap. It was a crew gift from when I worked on the show that I've worn like twice in my entire life, and this had to be one of those times. He asked in a menacing tone what I did in the business and I panicked, not wanting to tell him I was in TV production on a CBS show at the time, because if he really was Peter Chernin, and he looked totally like Peter Chernin, I was afraid he'd track me down and get Leslie Moonves, the head of CBS (!), to fire me. So I blurted out that I was a writer so he'd go on a wild goose chase. I didn't even say what kind of writer and he responded, "God damn you fucking writers!" Then he marched back to his car, took off the "WASH" sign, threw it at me (it grazed my right thigh) and drove off in a rage, nearly running over a kid on a skateboard. I really think it might have been Peter Chernin (who else could it have been?) and that two years later he is still so mad at me that he goaded the other studio heads into making a really bad offer just for spite, which the WGA took as an insult and things just snowballed into a strike. And it's all my fault and I'm very, very, very sorry. In retrospect I should've just let him go ahead of me. It's not like spending an extra three minutes in my car listening to A Prairie Home Companion would've killed me. So now you all know and we can let the healing begin. I feel a little better already, just getting this off my chest.
Oven Fried Potatoes
Cut a bunch of Russett potatoes into wedges. Rub all over with a little olive oil. Sprinkle with fresh thyme and chopped, fresh rosemary leaves and salt. You can also use dried thyme and dried, crushed rosemary. A little paprika never hurt anyone who wasn't severly allergic to paprika. Bake on a baking sheet in a 425 degree oven until crispy/golden brown.
December 18
Have been busy catching up on old issues of The New Yorker, Architectural Digest, Food & Wine, Entertainment Weekly. Thought keeping a journal of my strike actitivites would be a lot more exciting for me. I knew it wouldn't be exciting for anyone else. Have kept up with yard work and other chores.
London Broil
Turn on broiler with broiling pan one notch from the top. Take a London Broil and pat it dry. Sprinkle generously with Kosher or sea salt, fresh cracked pepper and garlic powder. Place on broiling pan and broil for 5-7 minutes per side. Use that hand test for doneness that I can never remember how to do. After you take it out let it rest under foil for about 15 minutes before slicing very thin "on the bias." Simple and delicious. Serve with Oven French Fries and steamed broccoli. You can make a sammich with the leftovers, excellent on a baguette with horseradish mustard.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
December 7
Today I had lunch with a friend and got the Wife a Hanukkah present. I also raked some leaves, then we had a Hanukkah dinner with my cousins. That's four huge accomplishments in one day, meaning tomorrow I might give myself the day off.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
December 5
Watched Barney with then read a book to the Baby. Spent two hours on the phone with health insurance company trying to understand why they haven't paid some bills dating back 18 months. Realized that punching the wall would only lead to more unpaid claims, so took the dog for a walk to calm down. Sufficiently defused by glorious day and chirping birds. Checked on-line for strike news, felt bad for everybody involved (well, not the studio chiefs), posted some recipes, thought about how few dishes I actually cook regularly for someone so obsessed with food. Thought about lunch. Turkey or tuna sandwich? Definitely roasted peppers on either one. Okay, gotta eat.
Asparagus with Balsamic Vinegar and Savory
Wash and chop up some fresh asparagus spears, getting rid of the bottoms of the stalks. Saute the asparagus in a little olive oil until just tender. Shake in a generous amount of balsamic vinegar. Then sprinkle on dried savory as if it is salt, add some freshly ground pepper, and a stir it all around until done. It's pretty good.
Barbecued Chicken a la Jeff
My friend Jeff is the barbecue Obi-Wan Kenobi to my Luke Skywalker. Here's his simple barbecued chicken recipe that will dazzle and amaze you. Go to Costco and get yourself an enormous package of chicken thighs and a case of beer. Head home and drink beer until the chicken defrosts. Add like a cup of paprika and a cup of brown sugar to a giant bowl and blend thoroughly with your hands. If you're feeling adventurous you could add garlic powder and even cayenne pepper to the mix, but it's not necessary, it's just my way of asserting my independence. Hopefully you have a large gas grill outside with multiple burners. Go out and turn every burner up to 11. When it's all nice and hot scrape the grill clean and turn half the burners off and the others to medium-high. Go inside and pat the thighs with paper towels so they're not wet, then dredge each piece in the spice mixture until fully coated. Place skin side up on the grill, but over the burners that are not on. Cook covered with indirect heat until some of the spice mixture starts to melt/stick together on the skin. Then turn pieces over and cook through. The sugar on the skin will carmelize, making a "built-in" sauce. When the chicken is almost done turn all the burners on and crisp up the skin, making sure you and the chicken don't catch fire. This whole process could take over an hour, but that's what the beer is for. Also, you could be grilling other things at the same time.
Mustard Tarragon Chicken
Cut a couple of boneless, skinless chicken breasts into large chunks, then add a little salt and a decent amount of pepper. Brown the chunks nicely in a skillet with a tablespoon or so of olive oil. Remove chicken and set aside in a bowl to capture any juices. Saute a diced medium-sized onion in the same skillet until fairly carmelized. If you want you could add some very thinly sliced garlic cloves a la Goodfellas. Add a quarter cup or so of white wine and deglaze, scraping up all bits stuck to the pan. Whisk in a couple of tablespoons of Dijon mustard until the resulting sauce is kinda smooth. Stir in a teaspoon of dried tarragon, or a tablespoon of chopped fresh tarragon. Return chicken with juices to the skillet and stir everything around until the chicken is coated with sauce. Cover and simmer under very low heat, turning the chicken pieces every now and then, until the chicken is very tender. If you need to add a little water to extend the simmer time, don't worry about it. Serve with white rice and freshly steamed greenbeans. You won't regret it.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
About
Call me Veder. I am a Yale and UT, Austin alumnus with, to borrow from Oscar Wilde, a great future behind me. When the writers, actors, directors or my own union bretheren and sisteren are not striking I eke out a living in TV production in Tinseltown. I thank the Lord every day that my beautiful wife has a decent job outside "the Industry" so we and our adorable daughter can afford to eat and take hot baths on a regular basis. I decided to start this blog so I had something to do during the WGA work stoppage of 2007-?-- other than my usual downtime activity of penning my unique brand of unsellable screenplays I like to call Big Budget Independents. On this blog I plan to post essays, recipes, fascinating personal anecdotes (some actually true), advice for the lovelorn and hot stock tips on an irregular basis. I understand that even as I write this written blogs have already become woefully passe, but the fact is I'm incredibly good looking and if I did a video blog it would be sure to go viral and make me world famous and I don't want to be mobbed by the paparazzi while shopping at Trader Joe's, reading at the gym, or mowing the lawn.
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