The glory that is television.

When this posts I’ll already be wandering around a cow barn in Wisconsin wearing a Santa suit. Yes, it may be the perfect place for my intellect to mature but I’m there to film a television commercial. We’ll also be at a cheese factory.

Wednesday is prep day for shooting the commercial. I must ready my already put-together Santa suit and rebuild another that is partially complete in a suit bag. The worst part of it is preparing new synthetic fur for the trim. One word covers that task – tedious.

Following the excitement of doing the fur I will have to shine my boots to a mirror image, shave my fat head, and Brasso my belt buckle. All of the veterans in the group just groaned when they read that word. Trust me, you never escape Brasso once you’ve opened the first container in your military career.

Wednesday I will get up very early and reshave my head. (You have to do it two days running or the scalp looks funny on camera.) I will take a long shower, blow-dry the beard and apply makeup. A little Ben Nye’s Snow White for the beard and I’m ready to go.

The drive to Wisconsin should be fun, I’m working with a good director/producer on the spots. We’ve done things together before and he’s a fine gentleman. I know I’ll be treated well and have a good time.

The script is pretty charming. It should sell a whole bunch of cheese for Christmas if I do my job well. Jim Snapko (the director) is a pro and he’ll make me look good.

My only concern is this darned flu that’s hanging on. I’m barely up and about today. Last night was restless and nightmare filled. I don’t place much stock in dreams but last night’s makes sense – I lost my girl dog on a road trip and barely found her before the tornadoes came. Old dogs sleeping next to the bed fill one with comfort and sadness at the same time. I’m tearing up just thinking about her passing. But it’s coming soon and the dream reflects that fact. I’ve just got to be a man and not be selfish when the time comes. Pray for me.

Well, when the commercial is done I’ll either post it here or put up a link. Remember, no time like the present to subscribe to the blog. It’s at the upper right! You must subscribe to be eligible for the extra content/contests/used bed sheets that are available only to subscribers.

The question for today (and my good friend Raj said any decent blog ends with a question – so go read her blog next) is what sleeping dog is occupying your dreams? And why don’t you take the time to rub their tummy and enjoy the love in life while you can?


The glory that is television. — 1 Comment

  1. Ahh, Brasso… The ex-ROTC-candidate in me squirms at the word, the hoarder in me thinks he still has a small can tucked away with other “useful-someday-again” odds & ends.

    I have to, with no apologies, just an acknowledgement to the comfort of furry, four-legged friends, change your question (and my answer) to one of the three cats in residence, and remember fondly the others that were with us for 14, 23 and 22 years. Kurt Cobain may have written & sang about a “Heart-shaped Box,” but I think that those friends have left “Fur-lined Holes” in my heart.