Got a welcome wake up call this morning from the guys at IATSE saying "Be at the Bell Centre in an hour!" Yippee! So I dug out m'grear, strapped on my boots and wadered down to realize that I had no idea where the staff entrance was... 20 minutes of wandering around the behemoth, I found security, who set me on the right track.
I spent a half hour wandering around inside, among road boxes, crewmen, booms, lights equipment before I saw a sticker on a crate and figured out that I was at the set up for U2. Cooler still, was that I was assigned to artfully throw pillows on leather couches at twenty bucks an hour, in the band's dressing rooms. Yes. I was in the band's dressing rooms. They weren't there, but their roadies with their accents were. Real roadies... whoa.
Back again for the tear down on Monday night. Which will make for a yawny presentation on tuesday afternoon, but hell. Now I can afford to go home for Christmas. *backflips*
The techie boys are, by and large, a sweet bunch of old men, whith wives and kids, and are usually thrilled to see me, female, arrive on the crew because we're few and far between in the biz. I'll get refered to often as "Cette Jolie Demoiselle" or "Sweetie" which I don't mind. A few of the guys I knew before I got on the call list, 'cause they're my teachers and mentors at school.
Some of these men are pigs though. There were no cop-a-feel-iacs, but some of the things that come out of these men's mouths are so completely like the scripts of the "Sexual Harrasment in the Workplace" videos they all showed us in highschool that my jaw dropped, and that more than once. "This is ridiculous" I said to one of the not-gross ones, and he said something like "They all say that. They all say they'll run and tell their mothers, but nothing ever happens."
That's a shame.
My teachers say "No. Keep it up. Join. This industry needs more women" and it's true. There are only about a dozen female members. And all this is still going on. Every moment of my education and all intellectual conversation I've ever had tells me to put up a stink and I think... no.
For one, no good could come of it until I join the club, old-boys-club or not.
And for another is this. It's the old boys that are up to these nonsense. Although I'm not prepared to admit you can't teach an old dog new tricks, these guys are 5 years away from retirement, and it's not like the younger guys are taking lessons from them because they're of the generation that knows better. And they do. I think that the gal's "Oh my god you're awful" coupled with the younger guy's "Dude, that's not cool" is enough.
For now.
In your all actions, from now on, I implore you to apply the following wisdom. My teacher told me this and I believed her:
Hesitation is Censorship.
I spent a half hour wandering around inside, among road boxes, crewmen, booms, lights equipment before I saw a sticker on a crate and figured out that I was at the set up for U2. Cooler still, was that I was assigned to artfully throw pillows on leather couches at twenty bucks an hour, in the band's dressing rooms. Yes. I was in the band's dressing rooms. They weren't there, but their roadies with their accents were. Real roadies... whoa.
Back again for the tear down on Monday night. Which will make for a yawny presentation on tuesday afternoon, but hell. Now I can afford to go home for Christmas. *backflips*
The techie boys are, by and large, a sweet bunch of old men, whith wives and kids, and are usually thrilled to see me, female, arrive on the crew because we're few and far between in the biz. I'll get refered to often as "Cette Jolie Demoiselle" or "Sweetie" which I don't mind. A few of the guys I knew before I got on the call list, 'cause they're my teachers and mentors at school.
Some of these men are pigs though. There were no cop-a-feel-iacs, but some of the things that come out of these men's mouths are so completely like the scripts of the "Sexual Harrasment in the Workplace" videos they all showed us in highschool that my jaw dropped, and that more than once. "This is ridiculous" I said to one of the not-gross ones, and he said something like "They all say that. They all say they'll run and tell their mothers, but nothing ever happens."
That's a shame.
My teachers say "No. Keep it up. Join. This industry needs more women" and it's true. There are only about a dozen female members. And all this is still going on. Every moment of my education and all intellectual conversation I've ever had tells me to put up a stink and I think... no.
For one, no good could come of it until I join the club, old-boys-club or not.
And for another is this. It's the old boys that are up to these nonsense. Although I'm not prepared to admit you can't teach an old dog new tricks, these guys are 5 years away from retirement, and it's not like the younger guys are taking lessons from them because they're of the generation that knows better. And they do. I think that the gal's "Oh my god you're awful" coupled with the younger guy's "Dude, that's not cool" is enough.
For now.
In your all actions, from now on, I implore you to apply the following wisdom. My teacher told me this and I believed her:
Hesitation is Censorship.
grumpyoldbastard:
