Hegemony in Buenes Aires

There are over 600 cats that roam Evita's Cemetary - here's just one. Buenos Aires is a little bit Paris, NYC, London and Rome all rolled up into one but the best part is you don't need to convert your dollars to pesos to enjoy the city. I was pleasantly surprised by how many cinemas, restaurants and shops took my dollar today; of course, I was left penniless by mid-afternoon and had to return quickly to the Sofitel Hotel for more moola.

Marcy, my new favorite writer from the Discovery Channel and I enjoyed hiking Julio Avenue, the widest in the world and sightseeing stops in the antique warehouses and in La Boca. La Boca is a colorful Italian community quarter with a thriving bohemian subculture. It's ideal for learning tango and buying original artisan wares. I scooped up an amazing glass candle dish, a bottle of chocolate liquor that won't last past midnight and a little leather change purse, all for less than a trip to Starbucks. Marcy bought into the cow craze (there are 135 painted cow statues parading along the docks) by purchasing a t-shirt and some postcards.

A special treat came when we literally bumped into the world famous painter Alfredo Genovese. He's recently been hired by Nike to paint their their newest apparel posters. He was painted the outside of a store window that sells the world's first ergonomic chiropractic chair for a cool $20 grand. Marcy and I tested it's powers and I can attest that a lower back spasm that's been bothering me since 8th grade disappeared in seconds.

Across the street stands the Faena Hotel designed by a long lost distant Uncle or so I can only dream, Architect Philip Stark. The concierge wouldn't let me tape inside but we snooped out the pool bar, the library lounge and even a retro restroom.

Tonight Marcy and I going carnivore and sharing Argentine sausage, veal entrails and Tail of Rump at the city's best steak house, La Cabana Las Lilas. Great beef begins in the pampean grasslands where breeding bulls is a way of life for the gauchos of Argentina. I haven't seen a working cattle ranch yet but I'm about to savor the best red meat in the country, make that the world. Ching-Ching and Bon Appetite.

From Tribeca to Tango

Before leaving for Buenos Aires, I spent all day in NYC walking through Central Park and stopping by to see the Squid and Whale exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. Like hunting down great authors I admire, the movie, with Laura Linney and Jeff Daniels impressed me enough to seek out where filming took place. Unfortunately, the exhibit was closed due to renovation so instead I caught a little of the Tribeca film festival and then stopped to stare at a group of 30 woman running with baby strollers to the chants of a head biker. At first I laughed; new mommies determined to stay in shape with baby in tow, huffing and puffing, sprinting some 20 blocks. But, then their obvious dedication had me cheering and clapping them on. Here were smart resourceful woman balancing work, baby, hubby and physical education and they deserved my respect. After that, I pushed my way through another 35 blocks without a complain. I jumped on the A-train to JFK and boarded the Brazilian TAM flight to San Paulo then onto Buenes Aires. For $7, flying out of JFK couldn't be quicker or cheaper.

I'm notorious for falling asleep in a moving vehicle. This is especially dangerous while driving. I pinch my legs and scream lyrics but it doesn't help much. Luckily, on a long flight with crying babies, snoring passengers and random public addresses, it's a blessing. I even missed my take off, landing, and the ham sandwich meal on today's flight. Knowing that Argentina never eats dinner before 10pm or sleeps before 2am, my narcoleptic fits actually helped.

I'm staying in a hotel full of history and tradition - the super sheik Sofitel Hotel. My pad has a king size bed, chocolate on the pillows, marble vanity, an adorable bellhop and this super hot young Spanish gentleman in room 901. Tonight I'll be tapping my toes to the rhythm of professional tango in a restaurant that tops off your glass hundreds of times before the evening is over. It's dubious that I'll be seeing straight to blog again when I return (especially if 901 is still awake...) so for now let me say "ching-ching!" - that's Argentinian for "cheers!"

Sony vs JVC

The world's largest annual electronics media convention is going on in Las Vegas this week. It's the NAB or National Association of Broadcasters Convention and guest speakers like Jack Valenti, Dan Rather, Tom Brokaw, Regis Philbin are accepting awards while technologies like MOTV (mobile television), podcasting, avid developer booths and the next generation of digital content suppliers showcase their cool swag. Every year I swear to attend but something always comes up. But because of this past Sunday's HDV camera debacle I'm ready to invest in another camera. I just spent all day researching another grand purchase for PilotGirl Productions. It's not the AJ-HDC27H VariCam® Variable Frame Rate 16:9 HD Cinema Camera that lists for $65,900.00 but it's just as good by the looks of the reviews. It's JVC's GY-HD100U full resolution HD progressive camera recorder. For all you camera guru's out there it has a 1/3" bayonet mount, compact shoulder-type design and optional DR-HD100 that passes audio, video, timecode, and control information to a harddrive allowing for simultaneously recording to disk and tape mode. How amazing is that! Now if only I could score more corporate, documentary, film, commercial and broadcast gigs that could turn a profit in this town!

Freelancing for One

Molly and I agree that we are definitely OCD candidates - her more so than me by the sounds of it. She revealed to me tonight that she's kept a journal of every single activity of her everyday existence since the late 80's. At any time she can tell you what she was she ate, who she loved and where she spend her money for the past 20 years. For as long as she can remember she's kept a journal and scribbled blogs before they were fashionable. I, on the otherhand, up until a few weeks ago, kept 20 tattered shoe boxes of every bank statements, store receipt, doctor bill and Christmas card received the last 2 decades. Who's more obsessive-compulsive? I still have my bets on Molly.

Freelancing has liberated me from all that. No more enduring miserable Mondays or living for the weekends or planning a short vacation months ahead of time. No more corporate greed or petty office politics or struggling to make a 5pm deadline for the local tv news. My days now are spent tackling new assignments and battling personal production nightmares of my own, key word - my own. Take for example, today.

I'm producing a 15 minute DWI campaign video sponsored by a not-for-profit committee to raise awareness about underage drunk driving. The video focuses on a 5K run and "buckle-up" seatbelt competition. The 5K course wraps around center square, past a big beautiful pond, in front of a stone church and finishes up back at the starting line. It's a well-orchestrated event with hundreds of participants and an easy shoot, unless IT RAINS! As soon as it started falling I knew the new digs (Sony camera, tripod, tape stock) were operating on borrowed time. I even snagged a umbrella-toting teenager to help blanket me from the rain but all went awry when the puddles got the best of me. I hung off the end of a flatbed truck but lost it twice when the driver gunned it to keep up with the runners. Then my camera quit, the tripod busted in two and I got soaked from head to toe. But in the end, there's no one to rant and rave to other than myself and that's worth a thousand broken cameras and wet feet anyday.

Argentina Rendezvous

The nomadic gaucho cowboy isn't usually the image that comes to mind when someone mentions Argentina to me. It's usually Evita, dictator Juan Perón, Patagonia clothing and the Andes Mountains. But according to my quasi-bible, "1,000 Places to See Before You Die" (many thanks to Ken and Robert), in less than a week I'll be documenting the fabled cowboys near pre-Columbian ruins as well as the mighty Iguazú in the verdant oasis that is Argentina. Yes, it's back to the road I go and I couldn't be happier. Who knew that my blog would amount to more than a series of movie reviews and Sarge fodder? Entry #1 in March 2005 was dubbed "Fly Far Away" and as if the power of suggestion works miracles in the cosmos, that's exactly what keeps happening. The lesser-known great waterfalls Iguazú makes Niagara look like a trickle or as Eleanor Roosevelt called it "Poor Niagara". There are 275 seperate waterfalls and as many as 350 during the rainy season and that's right now. I'll also be staying at the Iguazú Grand Hotel with Tango at 10:30pm and...warning, ladies you might want to sit down for this - a CHOCOLATE THERAPY SPA! Yes, it's true, a bath, wrap, massage and mask dripping in the "elixir of love". Chocoholism here I come! For the love of God, what ever did I do in my former life to deserve all this?

The Dead Beat

Another day, another obituary - Sarge has a strange fascination with tracking the lives of the un-living. Every morning, promptly at 7am, my former Funeral Director Stepfather buries himself between the Obit pages and orange juice. It doesn't matter that he doesn't recognize any of the formerly departed - obscure faces survived by equally anonymous children, wives, husbands, nieces, nephews, etc... Make for a great read, or as I like to call it a great "Dead Beat". This morning's perverse pleasure lead to a frank discussion about embalming and coffin quality. I learned more about Batesville's best bronze, copper, even stainless steel caskets than any wanna-be-cremated soul cares to. Sarge has survived a bullet to the brain, countless car accidents and an amputated toe. He's not going anywhere anytime soon. Still, he leans into the Obits like a drunk at a bar, transfixed that Ralph, Fred or Stanley died after a long courageous battle with cancer surrounded by his loving family. Would it be wise to introduce Sarge to The Death Clock? Might this provide the answer he's looking for? Check it out for yourself - that is if your an optimistic, non-smoker with a BMI count less than 25. The rest of you will keep Sarge busy reading for a long time.

Hyper Busy

Whew, what a festive holiday week! I've shot video with Comedian Mike Dugan, Rachael Ray of the Food Network, Dr. Phil and America's Most Wanted thanks to Golden Lamb Productions. It feels great to be packing a 30 pound Beta camera on my shoulder while toting a tripod under my arm again. Watch for all three in the next 2 weeks for faces and scenes from the Capital Region.

My Montana montage that accompanies my GoNomad article is finally edited and can be viewed at PilotGirl Productions. I'm using the working title "PaperTrails" until GoNomad.com and I can agree on something more creative. Many thanks to all the Bozeman's best Illsauce and Albany's own StarCode for kicking in free music.

Now it's time for the pungent chaos and teeth-rotting result of betel nut juice in, where-else, Taiwan. I shot footage of the world’s tallest building, the world's greatest variety of thermal springs and the world's largest Chinese classical style roof at the Grand Hotel back in February. Festivals included the Yenshui Beehive Rocket Festival, the Kaohsiung Lantern Festival and of course, Tainan City's multi-national dance show at the Historic Harborside Park. This will be a explosion of color, music and culture like I've never edited before!

All About Ego

If famous author Truman Capote was alive today and the Cutter family murder took place yesterday, there's no way he could have written "In Cold Blood". None of the critics address this in their reviews but as a former ENG Videographer/Editor, I watched "Capote" and was more amazed with small town America's early working days with the media rather than the man, the motive or the murders. A famous author bribing a prison warden for unfettered access to an inmate on death row? A famous author holed up inside the inmate's own cell with limited supervision? A famous author befriending a Kansas investigator for top-secret information? COME ON! Famous or not, few get the opportunity to sneak into a funeral home for a peak inside a coffin and fewer still are able to bait living relatives for evidence like a diary. And thankfully unethical journalists like Capote, fractured in his personality and chilling in his narcissism, aren't able to sell their soul for a salacious story, though sometimes it still happens. What happens to journalism when it gets seduced by art and fame? It's called "Capote" and both this movie and his last novel will leave you gasping for air until the last noose is knotted.

Seed Patents

Famous writer Donald Barthelme once said, "Write about what you're afraid of." Today I'm writing about genetically modified organisms (GMOs) and GE (genetically engineered) crops.

When I flew solo on vacation to Mount Tamalpais (across from San Fransisco) last year at this time, I was tempted to stop into Lily Films. Lily Films is the home of Jerry Garcia's entrepreneur widow Deborah Koons Garcia. She and her all woman professional team of editors work on full-length documentaries - the most famous being her 1994 cult hit "The Future of Food". The documentary was released in July 2004 and explores the disturbing results of unlabeled, patented, genetically engineered foods that fill our grocery store shelves.

"From the prairies of Saskatchewan, Canada to the fields of Oaxaca, Mexico, this film gives a voice to farmers whose lives and livelihoods have been negatively impacted by this new technology. The health implications, government policies and push towards globalization are all part of the reason why many people are alarmed about the introduction of genetically altered crops into our food supply." (IMDB.com)

It's scary because as a result of watching this film it's unbeleivable to think that someday you'll be asking for permission and paying a fee to grow your own red-ripe tomatoes in your backyard! Seed patents - it's perfectly plausible.

What to do? First off, I wish the Capital Region had the major grocery chain Whole Foods. The retailer carries high quality and naturally organic foods from small, uniquely dedicated food artisans. It's unaffected by artificial additives, sweeteners, colorings or preservatives. There core values far exceed those of union-busting blockbusters like PriceChopper, but that's cause for another blog....

See "The Future of Food" for yourself and you'll see why it's won so many film festival awards and helped anti-GMO movements push for legislation banning GE crops.

Cutting through Clutter

"Woman save everything, it's a fact!" barked Sarge, "you never let go of anything Sony!"

Call it reverse psychology but faced with a hard-nosed challenge like that I went to work proving 'ol Sarge wrong. I tore through 10 boxes of memorabilia from my youngest days, tossing out every textbook, report card and love note saved from gradeschool. Christmas and Easter cards lovingly sent from names I can't put a face to anymore got chucked. Dozens of letters that a penpal wrote when her balloon drifted into my yard 25 years ago - gone. Postcards and movie stubs and playbills from some of the first outings I've ever been on - history. It was as if a match was lit inside my brain burning up every shred of paper product in the house. This was a truly liberating process, a defining moment in my "letting go" so I can forge ahead and start anew. And that doesn't mean repeating the collection process either.

Old Amiga's, the earliest Apples, a few PC's and half a dozen broken printers are now tagged and ready for my Spring garage sale. If they don't sell, some retired GE guys in Schenectady like to tinker things back to life and will donate the lot to a local school. I found my very first cell phone, a heavy black brick with a long antenna. How did I ever squeeze that into my pants pocket? Electronic gagets and gizmos, components and consoles, gone, gone, gone. This is not landfill rubbish, these antiques will make their way to a collection bin sponsored by NYSERDA (NY State Energy, Research and Development Authority) Environmental solutions for "woman who save everything" as Sarge likes to put it.

But wait...what is this? I unwrap the tender tissue paper and hundreds of stands of blond locks go falling to the floor. It's my very first baby haircut when I was 4! Mom must have saved it and stuffed it into this tattered baby book. Hmmm, should I, should I - it sure would put a smile on 'ol Sarge's mug if I could disconnect this much. Purely out of spite, my youngest memory gets tossed in with the junk pile.

But in the wee hours of the night I can't sleep. I toss and turn and have nightmares I'm falling. At 3am, back downstairs I go, pry open the last garbage bag and ressurect the last tiny palmful of baby hair. After all, how much room does hair take up anyway?

Edwood FilmFest

Director Ed Wood's movies were so bad they were good. Even Tim Burton found a way of releasing a comedy stitching his painfully inept passion together. If you haven't seen Burton's 1994 homage to a director who had a fetish for women's clothing, I implore you, call your local DVD store and reserve it after finishing this blog. It's simply called Ed Wood and the scene when Bela Lugosi battles a plastic octopus in a kiddie pool will bust a gut. Wood died in 1978 but his foolhearty filmmaking lives on with ultra low budget shorts shot by his growing list of fans. Last night the Capital Region held their 6th annual EdWood Filmfest competition in Albany but a myriad of technical difficulties disrupted the show. 2 DVD players sh** the bed, several movies broke up and the tall dude in front of me kept tossing his head from side-to-side. An attendance of 100 was lead to believe Ed Wood's soul was haunting the Linda Norris Auditorium. Deb's, Chris's, Jane's and my patience ran dry around 11pm and we ducked out before voting for "People Choice". From what I saw Brian Farrelly and Jay Barba's "Purgatory School" brilliance took the prize.