Interviewing Friends

When you're a journalist, a social butterfly and frequent mover through the entertainment industry, there's a strong possibility that you'll find yourself working on a magazine piece that involves someone you know. It's happened to me more than once, but the most memorable was a Bombin' Magazine piece on my friend, Bobbito Garcia.

"Bobby Fisher" of Bombin' Magazine was well aware of my friendship with the legendary b-ball/DJ/sneaker guru/entrepreneur and elbowed me in the rib while asking, "So you think you can get Bob to do a piece in Volume 3?" After consoling said rib, I replied, "I could ask." I hit up Bob who agreed to the piece as long as "you're the one writing it." Ah! Scary! But, I said, "Fine." See, here's the thing with writing. After you get passed your first artist/celebrity interview, the first time your editor rips apart your writing and you think you'll die and then you realize after re-reading what you submitted "Damn, since when did I lose consciousness of grammar?", after all that... it becomes easier. Almost routine... As long as you're not dealing with someone who knows you.

As I sat there prepping for the interview I blanked out. I couldn't think of an angle or damn thing worth asking. I knew a lot about Bob and I couldn't get out of that mindset to remind myself that not everyone knew what I knew and they would want to know. I had to pretend I knew nothing about Bob. It helped that as we drove in the publisher's Range Rover up to Bob's house, the crew (consisting of EIC, publisher and photographer) spit around random ideas, helping me to settle on asking Bob completely random associations of events and sneakers. When we arrived at his home, I was ready... sort of.

As we greeted him hello and he hugged me tightly, he mentioned how much he was looking forward to having it be me to do this. He said, "I get asked the same questions all the time. It's cool to know someone who knows me is doing it this time and has the edge to be different." GULP! We settled down at his dining table and I set up my voice recorder, starting with the most obvious questions as to where he's from and all that wonderfulness. "Lauren, you know where I'm from," he laughed. "Bob! Let's pretend I don't know you. I just need this all on record so I can pull it all together when I write." He laughed and gave in. The interview continued with laughs and quality answers. When it was all done I felt both relieved and content. Bob thanked me for such a fun interview and I left happy.

As an interviewee, Bob had provided me with entertaining information that helped me bring together an enjoyable piece. As a friend and mentor, he had given me the confidence to create something fresh and original. Thanks, Bob!

So I'm Not Very Political...

... but how can anyone deny the significance of this election???

Before I begin the storytelling, let me set a disclaimer: I do not usually analyze politics, I've never before taken the time to watch a debate, and November 4th will be the first time I've ever voted (and I've already had the opportunity to do so twice.) Maybe it's these points combined that make me the best person to state what's obvious since I'm fresh to the subject at hand.

For the duration of 2008 thus far, through my non-political perspective, I had only been aware of one battle: Hilary vs. Obama. McCain who? Who cares! There was a historic milestone developing around the race for President that had nothing to do with the Republican party. For months I saw the ads, heard the debates, and viewed the increasing involvement by my generation in determining who would take the Democratic nomination. Personally speaking, I believe an Obama/Hilary ticket would have been phenomenal, but after seeing them at odds I knew it was not possible. Regardless, those months were legendary. After all was said and done I had one lingering fear. The fear that all the efforts to bring change to our government while simultaneously changing our history by the addition of either a female or African American President, would be pointless because the majority of Americans may not be ready. And what is so disappointing is that the values and standpoints of either candidate could be entirely irrelevant if a voter couldn't see past gender and race lines. And it would be in that case that McCain, who just sat silently and unseen all along, could just sweep up the nomination for President. But, then the conventions happened...

First, the Democratic National Convention where Hilary and Bill rocked regardless of the fact that they won't be able to call the White House home again in 2008. Where the audience was young, vibrant and ready for something new and something smart to happen with this government. And where Obama gave a speech that moved me. It wasn't that I was trying to let it move me either, I was just listening and suddenly felt my eyes burning with happy tears. I'm not normally that dramatic, seriously. Maybe I don't need to see an extensive resume in politics to feel that someone knows what they are talking about and that, more importantly, the person I'm listening to commands change and immediately makes me want to do something about it. If he can do that to me, someone who normally could care less about paying attention to anything discussed on CNN during campaign time, then I have no doubts about his ability to get others to listen. Sometimes engagement is the strongest force someone can have. You can talk politics all day but if I'm not engaged from the initial moment, anything you end up saying is entirely lost.

Then came McCain's choice of Sarah Palin for VP. I could end this whole blog entry right now. His choice has to be the most absurd thing I've ever heard. But, I'll get to that in a second. Let me touch on the Republican National Convention. Probably the single most boring event I've ever seen on television where everyone is either 1)old, 2)white, 3)wearing a ridiculous hat, 4)looking stuffy in suits and ties or worse, 5)all of the above. Where was the diversity? And I'm not sure if anyone noticed but any non-white people in the audience looked completely staged. Anyway, the audience isn't necessarily the important part. The speeches were what solidified my belief to continue being anti-Republican. First off, why doesn't anyone come right out and say "Bush ****ed up!" Instead, we hear how the Republicans will "change" the state of the country. I'd have so much more respect for them if they would acknowledge their obvious 8 year mistake. I'll admit I didn't hear Palin's speech, but I was too busy learning her husband is part of a secession group that is looking to make Alaska its own country. Um, excuse me! (Hand raised) Isn't McCain's whole slogan "Country first"?? Ironic isn't it? Then there was the rest of his speech which I don't even remember except for that he's a war hero. I respect the man for that, he went through horrific ordeals as a soldier and deserves much praise... but that doesn't equal Presidential glory for me. Not to mention... were anything to happen to McCain during office a completely unqualified and totally off the wall person would then become President and have the greatest power in all of the world?? Oh wait, this country HAS been through that already. And have we not learned ANYTHING????? **Sigh**

Bill Maher and Jon Stewart are my heroes. Check out this clip from the Daily Show that says it all...



OBAMA '08!!!

(9.11.08...After this post encouraged several conversations on the matter I came to this point of being reminded why I've never been that interested in politics to begin with... No matter who wins the Presidency, the odds of me being directly affected, whether immediately or ever, are not tremendous. The President isn't going to change my career path, or help my loved ones with the issues affecting their lives. The most I (or anyone) can do as a citizen of this country is to live my life how I want/need to and do my own personal best to make this world a better place. Because, when it comes down to it, we're the only ones that can make real change happen. )

New Reality Series?

Sometimes even when we're not filming, we are...
Check out me, Latin Daddy (Mike) and Jaime on our way to Connecticut last December...

LD & Friends: The Connecticut Road Trip Pt. 1
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The Connecticut Road Trip Part 2
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The Connecticut Road Trip Part 3
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Moving & Growing...Up

Back in May I completed the process of buying my first home, a one bedroom apartment in Fleetwood, NY. Friends and family not close enough to visit, ask that I take video footage and send for them to see. I turned that into a documentary process and below are the results. Definitely not the most entertaining footage, but life is sometimes just...life. And, from the footage where I look like absolute crap, you'll come to realize I'm one of the most non-vain people you may know (or am I actually vain by giving that disclaimer? lol)...

Lauren's Big Move Pt 1
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Lauren's Big Move Pt 2
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Lauren's Big Move Pt 3
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

The NYILFF and Me

A monster was born several months ago. It began when the mastermind of the NY International Latino Film Festival (NYILFF), Calixto Chinchilla, asked Jaime and Jerry to pen a script for the NYILFF promotional commercial. Me, being the duo's manager (oh, I didn't mention I do that too?) had them camp out at my house to break night writing the script. They call it "forcing creativity", I call it "getting their asses to write on purpose." Inevitably, it worked and the next day they had a script to present. There were giggles around the room as it was read aloud and we were all convinced it was a winning piece.

Over the next few weeks that followed, an audition for the commercial was held where both Jaime and Jerry were asked to try out, and having been the ones to create the thing, they landed spots easily. Mike was asked to audition as well and quickly made the cut. The final version, which combined both their script and some improv from the actors wrapped up in June and looked a little something like this:

New York International Latino Film Festival 2008

This is an unaired version of just Jaime and Mike's cuts re-edited by Lyn-don McCray:

New York International Latino Film Festival Promo Shoot

On the weekend of July 4th the commercial was released to AMC theaters around NYC. People who ventured to see Dark Knight were greeted by the witty catchphrases of my boys. Another catapult to stardom was the release of the commercial to Time Warner Cable channels. I started to receive feedback that the commercial was viewed on TBS, TNT and the Food Network. But, it was the week leading into the festival that brought the spot to air during the Today show. As I stood brushing my teeth, I overheard "It's about a girl from the Bronx" come from my TV and ran out (brush still in my mouth) to watch the commercial in its entirety. There's something incredibly gratifying about seeing the faces of your friends/clients on the tube and it not be an appearance on the local news.

Before we knew it, the week of the festival had arrived. It all began with the opening night/red carpet for the premiere of "American Son". Jerry's face was plastered all over welcome signs and volunteer badges, while Jaime appeared on the badges of filmmakers. These still shots, taken during the commercial filming, were everywhere and semi-creepy after a while, but nonetheless they only demonstrated how closely associated the guys were with the festival. Jaime you forgot your badge? No worries! Just go stand next to a filmmaker and smile, they'll let you in.

The red carpet frenzy wasn't entirely new to me considering I've worked them as a runner in the past. What was different was seeing the likes of Daddy Yankee and P-Rod (Paul Rodriguez's son) walk down that fuzzy crimson walkway. The majority of the celebrities were Latino (shocker!), and although the title of the festival clearly indicates the films must in some way relate to Latinos, this was still new to me. Furthermore, seeing a young woman nearly pass out from extensive bouts of crying after passing by Daddy Yankee, made me do a double take. What world is this? Who cares! I love it.

Wednesday's premiere of the short film "Sandman's Box", was a proud display of the hard work created by my good friends and colleagues. Watching them all up on the big screen, or knowing they were behind the camera, was an exhilarating experience. Not to mention I forgot how mentally horrific the premise for the film was and nearly spent most of my time hiding my face behind my hands. It was a scary as hell masterpiece.

(Cast, director and producer of "Sandman's Box")

The next five nights consisted of juggling red carpet interviews, attending premieres and making new friends. By Sunday we were all burnt out and wrapped the week up with some laughs, some awards and some great memories. I could consider that I was pretty involved in the festival this time around, but something tells me they haven't seen the last of me ;-).

Godmothering 101

"Lauren, DO NOT LOSE IMANI!" was the advice my mother gave me the night before I left to Pennsylvania to pick up my 4 year old goddaughter. By the time I arrived in Allentown I was terrified of a possible abduction while on my watch. As Imani bounded out of her house, a ball of energy, I quickly strapped her into her booster chair before someone could run out and grab her. I was being ridiculous.

"Where's Jaime?" was the second thing that came out of Imani's mouth (the first had been "Titi Nina, do you want to see my sexy bathing suit?) I explained to her that Jaime had to work and that she'd see him next time which caused an instant pout on her part. I distracted her with music that made her shimmy in the backseat as I drove the ten miles to Dorney Park. My GPS guided me to the administrative office of the park instead of the main entrance. As I did loops, Imani made a point of telling me, "Titi, we've already been here." She's four and already a smartass... I love it.

After finding a parking spot, I lugged her and our bag of essentials to the park entrance. Once paying the entry fee I thought it would be best to have her give the bathroom a visit before heading to the wave pool. With incredible focus I watched Imani like a hawk watches a field mouse, scooped her up and rushed into the bathroom. Jumping in the first stall, we each did our business and all was well until I heard a man's voice.

At first I thought maybe the walls were thin. Maybe this guy's voice was really loud. Or, the not so great theory, maybe I was in the men's bathroom. I peered out the crack of the stall door and was quickly shown that my latter theory was the winner. The irony that I hadn't seen one male when I entered the wrong bathroom and now it was overly obvious as 3 men stood at urinals (which I hadn't seen either) and one man stood in the stall next to me. I turned such a deep red that I looked sun burnt and then started to giggle, which sent Imani into a fit of giggles and which was picked up on by the guy next to me who had figured out what was going on and giggled. I picked Imani up, told her to bury her face in my chest and ran full speed out of the bathroom and as far away from it as possible. When we were clear of the bathroom Imani was still laughing, and I was still embarrassed.

After that I vowed to relax and stop being so paranoid that I would lose the kid, or else I'd end up in a shark infested pool instead of the wave pool. The rest of the day went on without any serious injury, loses or tantrums. Imani asked for googles which she is wearing in this pic on the left, but then quickly tore them off saying they hurt. Kids.

After hours of water rides, and some kiddie attractions on land, I was pooped. Imani, on the other hand was ready to keep on. Either I'm getting really old or this kid's DNA is mixed with the Energizer Bunny. It's probably a mix of both. But after the day I had, I'm well aware that I'm still very much in favor of the child return policy (when they don't belong to you, you get to enjoy them and then clock out at the end of the day.)

One day I'll be ready for my own... I'm thinking 2018 maybe. For now I'll continue my visits with this adorable little girl and pay more attention to bathroom signs.

Midnight Ride with Tony Plana

I'm convinced Grand Central Terminal (GCT) here in NYC is a place where parallel universes collide. Where there's a chance you'll run into an old friend from grammar school. Where a nun will walk along side a cross dresser. And where Tony Plana will zoom past you...

(Pictured left- Tony Plana aka Papa of Ugly Betty.. and he looked identical to this photo)

The shittiest thing for you to figure out when you enter GCT is that you either just missed your train or that you didn't just miss it but missed it by enough where you won't curse yourself for missing it, and yet become grumpy anyway knowing you have 30 minutes until the next one leaves the station. I was completely engulfed in the latter as I stomped towards my train whose doors were not yet open. The God awful heat of the train tunnel sent me into a U-turn back towards the main air-conditioned terminal. Upon the first swivel of my U-turn a man, walking alone, was coming towards me. Suddenly I found every need to stop walking and grab my cell phone out of my bag as if it were ringing (it clearly was not.) The man on his way to passing me was Mr. Plana. My first reaction: Figure out what train car he's going into. Second reaction: Question why he's taking a train.

I'd heard that Ugly Betty had begun shooting in NYC just recently and, just as recently, I had mentioned aloud to the wind that I wish I could happen upon the show's set. I don't watch much TV- a)I'm too busy to commit to something every week and b) I could care less for more than half the shit that's on the tube. However, there are 3 shows I try my best to stick with and UB is one of those few. It's my lighthearted, feel good, wittily (word?)-written, girl power show and Plana's character makes my heart melt. Too bad for me, Mr. Plana had done a U-turn himself and was now walking past me into the main terminal. Apparently we shared a deep disliking of sticky heat - what we're the odds!

I gave it a few beats and then followed him out of the tunnel and into the terminal, but in the process lost him. I wondered when I'd suddenly crossed into stalker mode, but the fact that I was already reciting how I would say hello proved I was already over the edge. Ten minutes later I was done indirectly looking for him and proceeded with my return to the train that would take me home. As I passed cars I side glanced into each wondering where he'd chosen to sit. Half way through I gave up and just entered the next car. Plopping down into an open seat, I dug my phone from my bag once more and when I looked up Plana was sitting two rows in front of me. His row was blocked out by a man sitting opposite of him so to go any closer would have made me look ridiculous (not that I didn't already seem that way to myself.)

And so we rode. Me glancing every now and then to see Plana clearly going over his next script. What I wouldn't give to grab that script and run! (to what? the next car?) To know how a UB script was laid out and to have insight into the future of my favorite characters would have been ultimate bliss. But, sad for me, fortunate for Plana, I never had my opportunity. When the train reached my stop, I grabbed my belongings and lingered near his seat. Were it not for the fact that me saying anything to him would instantly give off a clue to all those sitting around who he was and potentially ruin his late night ride home(?), I might have leaned in close and opened my mouth (to speak you freaky fools!) I could have sworn he glanced my way, less because I'm an astoundingly beautiful woman (I'm not) and more so because I was wearing this incredibly colorful dress that everyone seemed to be noticing today.

Ding Dong! This is the stop for blahblah the next stop is blahblahblah.

I exited the train, never saying what I wanted to, to Mr. Plana. So here it is: You're an awesome TV dad, you show too much heart to not actually be that way in real life, and I hope your show goes on forever!!! Oh... and yay for world peace!