Take One Down, Pass It Around

The music teacher at my elementary school, Mrs. Collins, was very serious about her role in molding the morals of America’s future leaders.

She did not take chances.

That is why we all learned this song in the second grade:

Ten bottles of milk on the wall,
Ten bottles of milk,

If one of those bottles should happen to fall,

There’d be nine bottles of milk on the wall.

Mrs. Collins edited a few other songs as well, including removing all the racy bits from that salacious ditty “Let It Snow.”

I was already familiar with the flexible nature of song lyrics, though, thanks to one of my family’s several vaguely twisted hobbies. Early on, my dad taught us the John Denver favorite “You Fill Up My Sinuses,” along with Willie Nelson’s classic “Squash a Toad Again.”

Naturally, the improved editions of popular children’s songs were also a big hit at school.

It turned out that my family’s sensibilities were not quite a match for the Mrs. Collins School of public decency. I’m just glad she never found out about “The House at Poo Corner.”

Extra Credit: Popular Song Titles Which Have Been Altered so as Not to Offend the Very Prudish

3 or 6 Ways to Recognize Me on the Silver Screen

I might have been in a movie on Saturday.

Last week my boss forwarded an email looking for volunteers to drive 60 miles and sit in the wind for free to be extras in an independent film. My other options for Saturday all involved responsibilities or personal betterment, so I immediately RSVPed to the casting company.

We played the audience at a horseshoe tournament, which is 90% of what I know about the movie. There’s also a guy who is planning to jump off of a bridge, and (SPOILER ALERT) one of the horseshoe players has a little dog with a vest on.

It’s difficult to tell where the camera was pointed or which footage will be used, so I’m providing this useful guide to help you look for me in the finished work.

Girl Who Is Really, Really Into Horseshoes

The extras’ main job was to cheer wholeheartedly for the horseshoe game, which was apparently the most exciting thing to happen in the known history of this little town. We clapped, we whistled, we stood up, and one little girl kept shouting, “Is it okay to talk yet?”

Pretend enthusiastic clapping is considerably more tiring than real enthusiastic clapping, since you don’t have the actual excitement to lend you strength. As a result, we may be the only group of people in history who can honestly say, “Watching that game of horseshoes wore me out!”

Of course, we weren’t actually watching a game. We reacted to a professional horseshoe thrower hitting all the ringers, and then to the actors throwing shoes wherever they happened to land. Thanks to the confusion, I didn’t know who won the tournament until just after I finished applauding for it, setting me up for a long-running role as Girl Who Has Been Cheering for the Wrong Side.

Girl Who Just Stole That Frozen Hamburger

This film didn’t have a lot of spare money lying around. As a result, all of the extras were paid in sack lunches and the possibility of a half-second of screen time. We did get some exciting perks, though, including food props that we were allowed to nibble on for increased realism.

Crew members started salting the crowd with hamburgers and sides at 9 a.m. I was not among the chosen, which was fine because Breakfast Coleslaw is not an accustomed feature of my morning routine. By about 11:00, though, the abandoned plates littering the bleachers started to look pretty enticing. I finally located a burger with no obvious bite marks and did my part for authenticity.

Fifty-degree temperatures and several hours of wind do no favors for bottom-shelf meat products.

On the upside, outdoors was even safer for food storage than a refrigerator. Also, the experience prepared me for another role, later in the day, as Girl Who Really Appreciated That Free Turkey Sandwich.

Girl Who Is In Six Places Causing Continuity Problems

The scene needed about 200 extras, and 70 showed up. We started the morning with the instruction, “Remember this seat because it’s your spot for the whole day.” After half an hour, it changed to, “Try to take up a lot of space.” Finally, the crew gave up and started moving groups of us to whichever area of bleachers was in camera range at the time.

This approach means that every shot of the crowd includes the same people in a slightly different arrangement. I’m particularly looking forward to the sequence in which I am standing behind the two championship horseshoe throwers and simultaneously looking on from the bleachers 30 feet away. If the editors cut back and forth between those two shots, I’m planning to start internet rumors about a cloning conspiracy plotline abandoned in the final version.

Then again, they may cut me out entirely thanks to my brief cameo as Girl Who Totally Looked at the Camera Just Then.

Anyway, if you have a chance to see a film called Stars with a horseshoe-related subplot, keep an eye out for me. I’ll be the one clapping, gnawing, teleporting, and otherwise lurking around looking like this:

Also, don’t forget to prepare your glowing compliments for my inevitable IMDB page. I’m currently seeking copious uses of the words “witty” and “brilliant.”

Planes, Names, and Automobiles

I call myself weird pet names when I get anxious. This habit has given me a new understanding of the term “pet name”—I’m starting to feel like my own puppy.

This is a great way to draw attention to yourself in airports. Of course, you can accomplish the same end by being the only person with a cowboy hat at both the Albuquerque and Atlanta ends of your flight. By the end of my trip, I had accumulated one of these…

…and one of these…

…and one of these:

I also had zero of these:

When I reached the rental car counter in Atlanta, I was firmly reassuring my canine self.

Then it was time for the nerve-wracking process of learning a new grown-up skill. I fumbled for cards and papers, knowing that any minute I would do something wrong, they would realize I wasn’t responsible enough to trust with their vehicle, and I would have no way to get to South Carolina.

As it turned out, my cover held, and I got to borrow a nice, gold Elantra. I even brought it back without any dents punched in it from the time the alarm went off all day next to some kind people’s tent.

At the outset I asked how to return the vehicle, and “You just drive it in!” seemed like a thorough response. The agent did not mention the magical secret labyrinth of steps, including counterintuitive stuff like parking in the middle of a traffic lane to collect your luggage. Instead, I ended up at the center of a honking and angry-flagger-stick-pointing tempest until I figured out the code. Thank goodness I’m so easy to train.

Anyway, I’ve successfully added Car Rental and Return to my list of grown-up abilities. After an adequate recovery interval, I may try to tackle another item.