Saturday, June 12, 2010

A Quick History of a Different "Love Buggy"

And so we come to Saturday the 12th of June. This day was going to be a long one. It was also going to be a fun day, luckily. But it started at 7:00 am and had a big ol’ question mark at its end point. I had a shoot for PCTA in the morning till somewhere in the afternoon, followed up by a Birthday party for Patrick in the evening. Great times, just a little too much of it.

The shoot for PCTA was at Mile Square Park in Fountain Valley. It was a Summer Festival/Car Show. It was a two camera set-up with me as one of the cameramen, one other cameraman, a Producer, and a host. We started off the day with some B-roll of all the cars and early morning festivities, which were made up mostly of a Pancake Breakfast and, oddly enough, some Hooters girls promoting their restaurant. At 8:00 in the morning. That seemed wrong, some how. It was as though, at this hour and with this much sunlight, judgment seemed more easy to come up with. Like Hooters girls should only be allowed out in the late afternoon and in the evenings.

The cars were a pretty cool assortment. You had your usual newer models and older muscle cars, but there were some really awesome custom cars, and even an Amphibious Sports Car. That was actually really impressive. There was even a DeLorean, and I am a complete sucker for DeLoreans.

But the cars that usually make my “favorites” list are the ones with stories. And no story beat that of the “Love Buggy” van. It was a beautifully restored green van that had a sex doll in the passenger seat that the owner affectionately named “Tonya.” The interior had nothing but shag carpeting, a TV, and all wood paneling. The owner was a guy that, if you listened long enough, you could tell had been around. Seen a story or two, and survived double that many. He had even lost ownership of the van more than once, but always found a way to get it back, if just to live in it when he was down and out.

He apparently used the van in his youth for one thing: “To pick up girls,” he said happily. And when I mean “pick up,” I mean literally pick up hitchhikers (predominantly women), and they would be his company for the day… “and the night, sometimes.” Wow. You heard that right. Women just can’t seem to pass up an opportunity to get a ride in a strange van with almost no windows, by a guy of questionable moral fiber.

But he seemed like a nice guy, even if he had only one thing on his mind. At least he was honest about it.

The Festival finally kicked into full gear, and we shot some of the different rides. We tried to get the host onto a kiddy roller coaster, but that was a no go. But we did get on a Ferris Wheel, a Haunted House, a Bumble Bee ride. We all each of us failed to ring the bell on what I feel was a rigged hammer game. I figured it was rigged because I lost. I think my logic is sound.

We tried some of the food from the vendors. And I have to say that the food was outstanding. There was a fried Halibut with French fries that was phenomenal, and a strawberry short cake that had to have had cocaine in it. And some teriyaki beef that was both tangy and sweet. I have never hated working and not having money at the same time as I did at this point.

The entire shoot started at 8:30 am and didn’t end till 4:30 pm. I was sunburnt, tired, sweaty, and ready to sleep for the rest of the day. Oh yeah, and my glasses decided to break some more. Just like that, the lens fell out of the right side. Argh. That’s when I got a text asking if I was on my way to Patrick’s party. Heh. Yeah, I was going. But I was going to take my time.

I got to Patrick’s party, which was a BBQ/Wolfman movie watching affair, sat down with a plate of food and some gaffer’s tape and got to work on my glasses. After they were fixed enough, I started eating and zoning out to the movie. For at least an hour, I was in a complete fog. If the movie hadn’t been playing, I would have just been staring at a wall, drooling. I literally couldn’t conceive of doing anything. I finally shook out of it after Aaron and Amy arrived.

Patrick wanted to play croquet, to which none of us had ever played. So we half read the rules, and half made them up as we went along. Not bad times, even if I felt like I was shaking off a drunken stupor induced by too much sunlight. We eventually started playing a game called (and I think spelled) “Ping Pon Pan.” Basically, it’s a dare/punishment game. An okay game, but in the state I was in, nothing could surpass “okay,” because I was so out of it.

We finished up the game, and started watching Borat, and that’s when I really started hitting the wall. I bided Patrick a good night and a Happy Birthday, said good bye to all and headed home to recover and try to feel human again. This mostly consisted of a cool shower and spacing out till I fell asleep completely.

I made no plans for tomorrow, and I think that’s exactly what I will need.

Topics of Conversation: DeLoreans, sunshine so deadly, the Love Buggy, spines, a Beach Boys cover band, audio shenanigans, a Japanese Crime Dog that cries by saying “wan,” Schlongers the male restaurant equivalent of Hooters, that damn hammer, itchy grass, annoying the neighbors, Korean burritos, art pieces I‘m glad I was present for, too many songs, arrogance that is unlikely, a Pope joke that will never be aired, etc.


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