The City of Angels.....

Hey fam,

Dad couldn't wait for the update yesterday on my job hunt, which made me realize I should probably be letting the rest of you in on my last couple of days. There will certainly be a lot more to report in the coming week, but you should know that I have garnered substantial interest from two companies just from my resume and demo reel. The first company is called Creative Domain. It is a behemoth of a company. They do every variety of entertainment marketing out there: trailers, tv spots, dvd, print, etc. I interviewed with them early this week, and was offered a position as the head of the machine room. For those of you who don't know, the machine room is the technical guts of the facitlity. And since this facility houses over 100 avid edit bays and about 200 employees, the machine room is rather daunting. Nevertheless, I was torn. Do I take this job that would be full time with benefits knowing that it isn't a creative position and I wouldn't be editing? Or do I hold out for the job I want, knowing that an opportunity like this may not come along again? After talking with both the ma and the pa, I just decided to let this producer decide. I told him I loved the company, loved the work, but I wasn't sure about the position. I said I was willing to do whatever it takes to get into the sector I desired, editing and graphics. If that meant working in the machine room for six months to a year, then it was something I was willing to discuss. The producer thanked me for being honest about my feelings and intentions, and said he would talk to his boss about my concerns, and then call me back.

Meanwhile, I called the rest of the production houses that I had applied to. Like washing your face with sandpaper, it wasn't something I was looking forward to. I did, however, make all the necessary calls, and got what amounts to roughly a 20% success rate. All these companies are inundated with calls day in day out, so they have assistants and pa's and interns screen all their calls. It is hard work getting to the right person to make your pitch. I did manage to get "she'll call you right back"s from about 4 houses, but in this industry something big comes up and even clients have a hard time getting their calls returned for awhile. I did get to speak with another house, Mojo,
which invited me for an interview for friday. So I was stoked. Not only did I have things cooking with one house, but another had taken interest as well.

So I'm playing basketball yesterday with Jeremy, who says hi by the way, and I get back to the car to see that Creative Domain had called. It seems that Dan, the producer, had spoken with his boss about the previously listed concerns. His boss wanted to meet me, and according to the message, she had a job in mind that was much more in line with my goals and expectations. As I gather, she is the senior VP in charge of post production. So this opens all kinds of possibilities for me. I meet with her on Monday morning, and I'm hoping to have things more or less figured out by then.

It has been an exciting first few days here in LA. It is absolutely gorgeous, the traffic is absolutely horrific, and life is absolutely great. I'm still trying to get on my feet entirely: I'm off to the dmv for my license, I'll be buying a car early next week, and I'm joining a gym soon as well.

Let me know how you all are doing,

Z

Alley Cats

It's as if Teddy was right by my side curled up behind me in a chair, with one eye open, as I write my ten page term paper due today...and maybe he got up and walked over to the back door to my porch and sprawled out on the porch floor, right at the doorway so no one can get in unless he deems them first (one scratch of leg will do it). Okay, so I know T-man has taken a graceful exit out, but I sware he has done something to my alley cats.
Yes, in case you don't all know I have a family of about five alley cats that live under my back porch stairs. I must admitt this is the second family of alley cats to live here.
You see the first group of alley cats I tried to rescue, well actually the whole building tried to "rescue". One morning I was awakened by the cat "alarm cry" coming from outside. As I fussed and fumbled to get outside I saw a big butch lesbian (It is boys town. Of course the animal rescue team is gay!) trying to lure my alley cats into a box with turkey. How dumb?
I come down the stairs and proclaim, "What are you doing? These cats are fine here!" Supposedly there had been complaints made by other neighbors, and the cats MUST leave. She goes on to say that she has gotten all the cats except one little guy. I leaned over to look inside the tiny whole under the stairs and there staring back at me are those two tiny emerald green eyes that you can see if you at the right angle. I click my tongue, give a few meu's, and out comes the little black kitty I've been feeding for the past three weeks. He leaps into my arms, but the big butch animal rescuer tugs at my shirt to get him off.
"No. He's fine. I'll keep him. " I say to her. After debates and discussions with this lady I get my cat.
It's great! I come home from work and there he is. I go to eat, come back, and hey there's a my little dude awaiting my return. Until...
One day I came home to find my apartment destroyed! There is piss all of the couch, shit on the floor, there is a bag of bread all scrunched and torn all over the apartment, the flower pots are knocked over, and there is no cat in sight. Where could he be?
Days later I find out that the kitchen window was open the night that my cat dissapeared. So I go over to the window and open it only to find that the screen is missing. I look down, two stories, and see my screen laying on the pavement beneath my winodw. Now that is just odd...my cat is missing, the screen is gone, and my apartment was a mess. Okay, so from years of playing that board game "Clue" I put together the pieces of this mystery. Well everything but the missing cat.
That night my neighbor that lives underneath me came a knocking. She was a bit nervous and said she had some news..."You're missing your cat, right?" She says. "Well...he's, umm under the stairs."
Yureeka!!! My cat! I rush down the stairs, look under the stairs, look by the maintenance room...but "where?" I ask.
To save the details of the groosem discovery. Let's just say my cat jumped out my kitchen window, and crawled under my neighbors porch. Yup, my cat comitted suicide. Do you know that one in every eight cats comitt suicide. And now, no one will let me nor my roommate(who was home the night it happened, hmmm) live down our cat jumping out the kitchen window. So we just have a gold fish now.
Okay, now there is another family of alley cats living under the stairs. None of the neighbors fuck with these cats, infact everyone puts their garbage out on the porch for them, or maybe that's just cause its too fucking cold outside to put the garbage in the dumpster. These cats really keep to themselves, much more than the first group. However, as soon as Teddy was announced to have gracefully taken an exit, these alley cats have been going NUTS!
This morning I was awakened by the "roar" of battle cats. You know the sound, a bit like a cry but not sad, a little of a whine but not girly, and at times it's a long roar that fluctuates in octives. So I get up and go outside, and all the cats scramble. Cool. It's quiet.
I sit to write this term paper and I see little black shadows running back and forth from my window . I hear the "roars" begin to start. They yelp and cry until I just can't take it anymore.
This is just one of those weird things that animals do, right? I can't understand them so maybe they'll understand this when I get up and yell, "What? What the fuck do you want?" And as all the little kittens scurry away there is this little black kitty sitting so prominently on my porch. liking his paw. Weird?
So maybe it's Teddy or maybe it's the little kitty from before, but whatever it is it diserves a log chop!

***For the record I still will never do a physical log chop. However, I agree with the idea and will write and/or speak of them.****

To the toughest cat ever to grace god's earth

Teddy was an AMAZING cat. Think about it for a minute. What other cat do you know that could have endured 12 years of Aaron abuse? Does anyone else remember the 10 year span where Aaron's arms would be covered in scratches? Seriously, Chico would have thrown up his paws and eaten rat poison after a week.

At about age 3, Ted-man took to the streets. Screw that, he took over the streets. There wasn't a safe animal in Highland Park during the late 1980's. I guarantee you that if you strip searched a squirrel around that time, you would've found a map with a big skull and crossbones at 942 Harvard Court. Soon, we were off to Highmoor, but little changed. The kitten had become a grizzled veteran. He alternated hunting for food or sport. Seven days a week, you would leave the house for work or school only to see Chef Teddy's daily special staring at you from the Welcome mat. At first it was a mouse or a mole. But soon Ted's appetite for destruction grew larger. Rabbit populations dwindled, but still the rampage escalated. I remember one night catching Ted in a fight with a raccoon. The raccoon was balling from a tree branch, and our sweet little house cat quietly sat at the tree's trunk, waiting. Towards the end, I heard that deer were avoiding our house.

Beyond the hellcat personality, though, was the sweetest, quirkiest little guy you ever knew. How many times did you come home at night only to see your headlights reflect off two emerald eyes on the front doorstep? You'd walk inside only to get machine-gunned with meows. After Ted had emptied a couple of clips, you would give in.
"Obviously this cat is malnourished," you would say to yourself. "He must be desperate for food."
Then you'd walk into the mud room only to see that the same cat that would eat worm ridden field mice was just a little too prissy to eat 10 minute old whiskas.
"MMMEEEOOW", Ted would say. "FIX THIS SHIT!"
So you'd stir it up, and then put it back. Ted would give it the one-sniff check, and then shoot you a look that said nothing less than, "You son of a bitch. Just WHO do you think you're kidding?"
And then you gave in. It wasn't worth fighting this cat with an iron will. Better just to cut your losses early, open a new can of food, and work overtime that week to cover the costs.

It wasn't just the food though. How about trying to sleep in the same bed with Ted? You'd be lying there, minding your own business before you fell asleep, when the furry ninja would silently hop onto your bed. Then he would walk around for a second, triangulate his position, and strategically lie down EXACTLY where it would make you most uncomfortable. So you'd sit there, waiting for him to fall asleep, trying to humor this cat for at least a minute or two. And of course, eventually, you would have to move. And as soon as you slid your leg up to try to get around him, the little bastard would swipe your leg. As in, "How DARE you awaken the lion king from his deep slumber?"

Remember...

...when we brought Ivey home and Ted hissed enough to become an honorary snake?
...at the apartment in Lake Forest when Ted decided to swipe my butt as I tried to get into bed?
...when you would catch Ted a little unexpectedly and he'd look at you with his tongue hanging out?
...when our indian neighbors on highmoor called the cops because Ted was hanging out on their back porch?
...how many people it took at the vet's office to clip Ted's toenails?
...Ted eating the Christmas tree when we first brought him home?
...when you would be petting him for awhile, and you'd overdo it by one stroke, and he'd bite you? Then he'd close his eyes and wait for you to smack him, like he knew he deserved it?

...the scratching post that doubled as the sliding door to our deck?
...When Ted would hide under the dinner table, and ambush your feet as you walked from your bedroom to the kitchen?

Ted retired in Austin, Texas around the turn of the millennium. He aged not-so-gracefully, as many cats do. Yet even at 19 years of age he was still unequivocally Ted. I can't express to you all how sorry I am for the way Ted was treated towards the end. He just deserved better, and that's all I'll ever say about it. As I said, he truly was an amazing cat. He survived two car accidents, a bazillion fights, about 5 tapeworms, 6 moves, and oh yeah, AARON!

Ted, you were the best cat we ever could have hoped for.

I miss you already, and I will never ever forget you.

Teddy "Tickle" Lee

1985 - 2004

Welcome

Congratulations,

You have found my creation, one that is for you and our entire family to enjoy.

Chopping Log is my gift to the family. It is a blog where the Lee clan can check in any time of the day, any day of the week. You can write a thought, post a picture from your weekend in Mexico (that'll be me), recount the event of a Total Log Chop (or T-L-C). For those who may not be entirely aware of the definition of a T-L-C, well, let me give you a shining example:

T'was the day before Christmas on Austin's east side,
Zach drove down the street in his broken down ride.
Bad noises abound couldn't kill Zach's smile,
His family inbound, his car cruising the mile.
With his head in the clouds, he stopped at a light,
The car in front began to turn right.
Zach looked to his left and the highway was clear,
He stepped on the gas with nary a fear.
"Crash Boom Bang", his car said with a frown,
It's headlight destroyed, its owner a clown.
The worst part of all, as you've all been told,
Is not one day before, the car had been sold.

Okay, so there you go. It doesn't have to be a poem, as that was just a moment of inspiration. A T-L-C is something annoying that you just have to vent about.

I'm sure we as family members want to know what's going on in the day to day activities of one another. During our brief but fantastic Christmas in Austin, I had a chance to speak to all of you individually. By and large, our biggest collective gripe is the overall distance between one another and the lack of communication that goes along with it. So Chopping Log is my attempt to get us more connected. Like I said, just pop on, read what everyone else is writing, ask and respond to each other's questions, tell stories, really whatever. We can also put up a schedule of our events, where we'll be and when, you name it. I can't tell you how many times I had to piece together a bunch of emails just to figure out where everyone was and for how long. Really the potential is limitless, but my experience is that it's better to let this evolve on its own.

If you have any questions about signing up or how this works, call me. Ma, I know I got you set up for your blog when you were in town, so I'm assuming you can rock this. Lauren or Dad, use the invitation I've sent to you in the next email to sign on. If you get stuck, gimme a ring. Aaron, well, get to chopping already.

So write in, say hello, and tell your family how you're doing. I'll be posting again in the near future.

Your brother/son in chopping,
Zach