Happy Birthday Mom! I Love You!

My Mom's birthday is today! She is 86 years old!   I thought I'd post a true story she wrote about a childhood memory - part of her memoirs.  She is one of the most amazing, beautiful, positive people I've ever met.  I am so lucky to have her as my mom!  The story below is indicative of her strength, courage and optimism.

POLIO

I was nine years old in the summer of '34.  I don't think I will ever forget that year.  It was July -- a nice balmy day and my father and his friend Mike were going to Belle Isle fishing. My brother Gene and I went with them to play along the Detroit river waterfront.  I loved Belle Isle! It will always be special to me.  It was our only introduction to country living. We lived in the heart of the factory industry surrounded byMidland Steel, Packard Motor Car Co., Chrysler, Ford and General Motors.


We took off with a nice lunch, but my left knee was sore, as I had fallen three times on the same knee on the school cement playground and it had not healed, so it was an open sore.  No bandage could stay on it and band-aids had not yet been invented. I remember getting sand on it as we made sand castles and figures in the sand. (Years later I thought, maybe the polio germs got in that way.)


That night I remember I started to limp and the next day it seemed I could not straighten up my leg. The following night I had a horrible nightmare!  I was on a spinning top and I would spin out and out and then back again.  Also, I was hot.  Burning up!  I must have screamed because I found my parents by my bed and I focused them into sight. Mom placed a cold wash cloth on my forehead and that helped.


The next day I couldn't stand.  My leg would not support me.  My father took me to the Children's Hospital. They took children in whose parents couldn't pay.  I remember crying softly all the way there.  I was so scared.  My Dad carried me in and they put a gown on me with a slit in the back.  I was terribly embarrassed in front of these strange people!


A few moments later a nice gentle Doctor came in. I found out later that these incredible Doctors volunteered their time and services for free.  The doctor I had was from France.  He spoke broken English. He hardly spoke to me, but his smile, kindness and concern was felt by me and I immediately felt better about being in the hospital.  Later I would discover that he used an experimental therapy that might've saved me from becoming permanently crippled. He used the "Sister Kenny" method to treat Polio.


My leg was stretched by weights as by now it was bent all the time.  I was then put in a body cast along with my complete left leg. I was in the hospital for one week. The nurses were good to me and I loved the food! 


I was in a cast for six months, during the hottest part of Michigan's humid summers. It was unbearably itchy and uncomfortable and so very HOT! Our house had no insulation, we never owned a fan, I could not sit in a cool bath tub of water. How I longed for that luxury!


After three months I had to have the cast removed and the leg checked.  Nowadays I think they use a saw of some kind, but at that time they used shears like big scissors and they cut right up the sides of the cast, from under my armpit to my ankle. Many times they cut the skin and I'd cry out in pain. The person cutting would try not to but it was impossible because the skin was folded and loose.  How sad I was when I was told I had to have another cast put on to insure the progress I was making. All I could think about was that heavy cast would have to be cut off again!


At home I was told to lay flat on my back in bed and stay there, but this was making me dizzy and weak. Plus, just going to the bathroom or trying to was murder. Eventually I cracked the cast at the groin and was able to walk around the house (like Frankenstein!) and before you knew it I was going all over the place and doing most things.


I remember the day I was discharged as "cured". That's what the hospital said.  My mother and I were dropped off at the hospital be a friend who had to leave. It was a cold, snowy day and it seemed like we waited forever.  They cut my cast off and I cried as they cut my skin in several places again. My leg looked terrible! I tried not to look at it. It looked like a stick with hanging flesh on it, some of it peeling like a bad sunburn. I could not bend the knee but the doctor said that would come with time and exercise.


My mother had brought my long underwear stockings and shoes.  It felt so funny to have them on with no feeling, really.  They gave me crutches to use and I felt so clumsy and afraid. I thought, if I fell, that stick of a leg of mine would crack and break up.  We finally got outside. Snow had accumulated on the ground and I was afraid of falling on the ice. We had no car, so we waited for a street car.


My mother and I and the crutches somehow got onto the streetcar and then back off and I walked the two blocks to the alley behind our house. By this time I was exhausted, cold, had no gloves and my fingers were numb and my legs were shaking. So, Mom, God bless her heart, carried me, piggy back, the rest of the way home. 


It was so good to be in the house! I just collapsed.  My brothers gathered around. Gene didn't say anything. Ed looked shocked. He said, "Will your leg ever look like the other one again?"


Having Polio changed my whole outlook on life.  It made me everlastingly thankful for the sheer pleasure of being able to walk! To work! To dance!  To run!  It taught me patience. At one time before I contracted Polio the girls at school remarked that my legs were somewhat bowed and I felt self-conscious about it.  After the Polio I could care less.  I was just thankful that I could walk. 


Many Polio victims during that time never regained that abililty to walk.  They were crippled for life. But I believe that the experimental technique that the French Doctor used with me (a cloth treated with medication to help draw out the poisons, then covered with a cast) gave me my life back. I will be forever grateful to him and often wish I could go back in time to thank him and the nurses who took such good care of me.

                 
My mom - age 84 doing Tai Chi in Reno


"LOOKING BACK" - Irene Milko Cooper's memoir - available through Klina Publishing for $9.99 plus $2.00 postage.  Contact Janine at:  j9art_music@yahoo.com to order.

Learn more about Sister Kenny at:  http://www.teachspace.org/personal/research/poliostory/sisterkenny.html

In Remembrance - Grandpa Joseph Milko

I never did get to meet my Mom's Father, my Grandpa Joseph Milko.  He was born in Pennsylvania, had three brothers and a sister. Joe's brother Mike was a championship boxer in Pittsburgh.

Joseph was a World War I Veteran. He worked in the auto industry in Detroit from the 1930's to the 1950's as a crane operator, sometimes working high up in the factory where the worst smoke and toxins gathered. It was before regulations and health and safety codes were in place. My Grandfather died at the young age of 54 and I was born about ten years afterward.  My mom told me a story about him and I adapted it into the short story below - in remembrance of Joseph Milko. 

The Silver Moth

©2000 By Janine Cooper Ayres

“Daddy,” little Irene asked. “If you could be any kind of creature in the world, what would you be?”

Her father stared out into the backyard from the porch and thought for a long moment before replying, “A large moth.”

“A large moth?” she laughed. “Not a hawk or a lion – or a black stallion?”

“Nope.  Just a moth – a large silver iridescent moth with a few polka dots and a white fuzzy face.”

“Gee,” said his little girl. “Why?”

“Well, Irene,” her father had thought long enough.  “Moths are a peaceful bunch.  They do not hunt and swoop down upon small innocent creatures. They do not attack viciously like the lion.  They are not captured and broken in spirit like the stallion.  No, the moth is a gentle creature. It is true that its life is often in danger for this very reason.  The moth does not hide in the shadows waiting to pounce on its next victim. It has not the vanity of a butterfly and so it is content with a spot or two on plain silver wings rather than loud bright colors that scream, ‘Look at me!’  But most important…”

Irene’s father looked at her straight in the eye. “Moths know the secret of metamorphosis!”

“Meta – what?” Irene asked, confused.

“Metamorphosis. It means to transform – transmute. Just like the butterfly, the moth begins its life as a caterpillar.  A cat starts its life as a cat, and a dog, a dog, but the moth is unique because it grows wings and learns to fly!  The moth is not afraid to leave the earth’s surface and explore the heavens – to go into the light.”

“Wow!” Irene exclaimed. “I never knew moths were so special!”  She climbed up on her papa’s lap and watched the last of the suns’ rays melt into the night sky.

Several years later when Irene was a full grown woman, she was sitting at her kitchen table all alone.  The hour was late and she was very tired, yet she couldn’t sleep.  The day had been full of mourning, as she and her mother and four brothers all gathered to lay her father’s body to rest.  He died at the early age of fifty-four after a long hard life, working many of them in the auto industry in Detroit, Michigan.

“Why did he have to leave this world so soon?”  Irene thought to herself with tears streaming down her face. “He was a good man. He was gentle. He wouldn’t hurt a soul. He had courage, yet he was humble…”

At that moment, Irene was interrupted by a loud commotion at the window.  At first she jumped with fear that it might be an intruder, but as she opened the curtain, she saw that it was a large silver moth flapping its iridescent wings as though trying to get her attention.

“Oh, what a beautiful creature.”  Irene whispered out loud and watched as the moth found its way into her kitchen through a small tear in the screen. He rested for a moment on the chair directly in front of her.  He had a big white fuzzy face and few polka dots…

Just then a chill came over Irene as a long forgotten memory floated back from her childhood. She remembered what her father had told her.


As the moth flew above her and around the kitchen light, Irene felt it was sign from her father that he had grown his wings and was ready for his metamorphosis – his journey away from the earth’s surface and into the light.

Irene smiled a peaceful smile, took a final sip of tea and went to bed.

                                                          Joseph Milko -   1918   -   U.S. Army



To learn more about Joseph's brother Mike Milko visit:  http://www.harrygreb.com/mikemilko.html

My Marilyn Story

The year was 1993. I was working as a scenic artist at a set (sweat) shop in Glendale.  These shops are set up to design and implement facades, props, signs, murals and backdrops to be used in the film industry.  They usually smell of sawdust, various paints and solvents and welding smoke.  I spent nearly a dozen years working in this creative and humble working environment. The days are generally long and the shops are hidden away from the glamour and prestige of movie studios and production offices.

On this particular spring day I was actually working in the office, xeroxing blueprints and answering the phone because the receptionist had called in sick. I was in a quiet space working alone when I heard a voice, like a whisper in my ear. It said, "Visit Marilyn Monroe's grave today." To say the least, it was a little disturbing and I quickly dismissed it.  But then an hour or so later the voice spoke again, this time with a bit more urgency. "Visit Marilyn's grave today."  I let out a laugh.  No way!  I didn't even like her as an actress, nor her dumb blonde persona, so why would I take the time to visit her grave? Once again I ignored the voice and continued working.  By the end of the day I clocked out and was driving home. As I was passing by Forest Lawn cemetery, on an impulse I pulled in and drove past the manicured lawn.  I asked the guard if Marilyn Monroe was buried there and he told me that she wasn't. He added that she was laid to rest in Westwood.

Feeling a bit foolish, I continued my drive home. I was living in the family house of my friend Jamie (near Dodger Stadium) at the time and he and my other room-mate were out for the night.  So I prepared dinner for myself and plopped down on the couch to find something to watch while I ate.  Flipping through the channels, I came upon a movie called "The Prince and the Showgirl".  Suddenly there was Marilyn on the screen!  A chill ran up my spine.  I watched the movie until it was over. After the ending credits rolled a host appeared on the screen and explained that another 'Marilyn' movie was about to begin. Why? It was in honor of her BIRTHDAY!  More chills ran up my spine. The date was June 1st and for some strange and spooky reason someone, somewhere was urging me to visit her grave site on her birthday! 

A few days later I did go to visit her. I took some flowers to the Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery and placed them in the vase nearby. 

Needless to say I have been a huge fan of hers ever since and I have also delved into the mystery of her death. I even met author/detective Milo Speriglio shortly before he died. He spent tireless years of his life investigating it.  I find it interesting that she was going to hold a press conference with journalist Dorothy Kilgallen on the Monday after her death to 'tell all' about her affair with the president.  Supposedly she was starting to feel very humiliated by both of the Kennedy brothers and wanted to 'talk'. Dorothy Kilgallen died a mysterious death herself three years later.

I never did figure out who or what that voice whispering in my ear was all about.  And, I don't want people to think that I 'hear voices' all the time.  It was a mysterious anomaly and a memory that will always haunt me, so I thought I'd share it.

I hope that some day the truth comes out about what really happened to Marilyn.  She was a brilliant actress, a beautiful woman and iconic sex symbol.  I believe the public deserves to know because after all, that's who she belonged to.

“I knew I belonged to the public and to the world, not because I was talented or even beautiful, but because I had never belonged to anything or anyone else.” Marilyn Monroe

To learn more about the mysterious death of Marilyn Monroe, visit: http://www.marilyndeclassified.com/

To learn more about Dorothy Killgallen, click on: 

http://www.thereporterwhoknewtoomuch.com/

To learn more about Milo Speriglio click on: http://www.thrillingdetective.com/eyes/speriglio.html

A Poem by my Dad

PATHS

By Jack Cooper (written at age 85!)

©2010

The other night as I lay in bed thought after thought danced through my head

I laid there wondering where I’d be today had I taken another path during my early journey’s way

Have you ever wished you could go back in time? Start all over again when you were in your prime?

If I had taken that path I bypassed before  - heaven only knows what might’ve been in store

I might’ve made it big on the stage or screen – Maybe won an Oscar in the Hollywood scene.

I was good at sports – at the top of my game. Had I stuck to that path – might I been in the Hall of Fame?

 I loved to travel, explore foreign lands  - maybe search for treasure buried deep in the sand

Or taken the High Sierra road  -  I might’ve found that Mother Lode!

If I studied harder to become more wise  -  I might’ve been a scientist, won the Nobel  Peace Prize

Ah, yes, if only I’d taken a different lane - I might have wound up with fortune and fame

I leaned back on my pillow and pondered some more. Then dozed off to sleep – back to the days of yore

Instead of dreaming of glory and fame - my dreams took me down a perilous lane

I was on a path that that led into harm’s way  - leading me only toward danger and dismay

No Hall of Fame, no big prize – no award.  No treasure chest found washed up on the shore

I was lonely and homeless and roaming the streets  -  Begging for food with no place to sleep

I woke up and I sat on the edge of my bed  -  shaking and sweating from my toes to my head

I sat for a moment glancing around the room  -  trying to clear my head of the misery and gloom

With a sigh of relief I realized how lucky I’ve been  -  that I did take the right path way back when

I’ve struggled at times with some bumps along the way. But I’ve made it safely to where I am today. 

I’m blessed with a family I’d  never trade  away - and have wonderful friends I’ve met along the way

One may choose to be happy – or envious and sad - left dreaming of the treasures you might’ve had

But I do have my treasures on this glorious day!  I just have to look at things in a much different way

Tomorrow will be the beginning of another day  - I just hope I choose the right path along my long journey’s way.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

About Jack

Jack Cooper was born in Pennsylvania and moved to Detroit, Michigan with his family when he was a young boy. His father played Sax and Clarinet and was a big band leader from about 1920 - 1950.  My Dad also played in Big Bands during the swing era and when he joined the Navy during World War II he was stationed up in Alaska and played Sax and Clarinet in the Navy band. 

After the war and as music shifted from Big Band to Rock n' Roll (and also recorded music) there was no longer a need for large bands to play at clubs and in theatres.  My Dad married my mom in 1949 and he pretty much gave up playing music in order to support his growing family. He worked for 32 years at a job that was certainly not his 'dream job' but he was incredibly responsible and disciplined.  Never missed a mortgage payment, never racked up credit card debt, never abandoned us, not for one minute - that's just the kind of man he was and continues to be. 

Currently, besides writing poetry he and my mom are 'pickers'!  They buy collectables and artwork at garage sales and then re-sell them and they do amazingly well with it! 

My Dad retired about thirty years ago. Since then, he and my mom have gone on about 24 cruises!!  The photo of him above was taken just last month during our cruise to Hawaii. 

I'm very grateful to have been blessed with such a great Dad (and Mom too).  Today is Father's Day and I'm thinking of my Dad and wishing I could be with him.  

I'd like to wish all the Dads out there a wonderful Father's Day today! 

OUT OF THE (ALIEN) CLOSET!

UH OH!

I guess I'm officially out of the (alien) closet thanks to Radio Talk Show Host - Bill Handel of KFI-640 AM.

I've been painting aliens and otherworldly creatures for as long as I can remember.  Often times I just wanted to draw my mom or dad or a friend's portrait, but they always came out looking a little bit 'OFF'. 

So, recently, I decided that I would just surrender to this quirky defect of mine and maybe even turn it into a business, offering to paint  "ALIEN YOU" Portraits (or, at least otherworldly versions of otherwise human beings).

When I met Bill Handel at a local event a few weeks ago, I asked him if he'd be willing to be my first "ALIEN YOU" guinea pig. And, he kindly (and bravely) said, YES! 

After I finished his portrait I sent it his way and he posted a photo of himself with it on his website - http://www.kfiam640.com/pages/Handel2.html 

TA - DAA!    Here's Bill with his "Alien You" portrait!

He even called and left a message to say he thought my painting was SPECTACULAR and that he thought I was "completely crazy, but in a good way"!  How cool is that?!  (THANK YOU,  BILL!  I think you're crazy too - in the BEST way and I can't thank you enough for posting the above photo on your website!)

If you'd like an 'ALIEN YOU' portrait done of yourself, or your dog, cat or your whole family, just give me a holler at:  661.713.9946 or by e-mail: j9art_music@yahoo.com

YOU CAN SEE MORE OF MY ART AT:   www.j9art.com

(You can hear Bill Handel's program on KFI 640 AM in Los Angeles or streaming live on the web - Monday's through Friday's from 6:00 - 9:00 a.m.  and also on Saturday mornings when he offers 'marginal legal advice' during his HANDEL ON THE LAW show. The guy's a crack up, but he's also an actual lawyer so he knows what he's talking about!)

Anybody know what day it is?

I recently went on the most amazing vacation!  With my husband, my sister and her husband and my parents, we took a fourteen day cruise to Hawaii - leaving out of Los Angeles.

We sailed on a beautiful luxury liner called the Golden Princess (larger than the Titanic by approx. 100 ft.). It took several days to learn where everything was.  Our cabin was on Deck 10 and we tried to take the stairs most of the time, which was a great way to work off the calories from all of the delicious food we were constantly eating!

It wasn't long before I really didn't know what day it was. Was it Monday? Or Thursday?  I turned to my fellow cruisers and asked that question more than a few times.

The motto for Princess Cruises is "Escape Completely".  And I would have to say, that it is the perfect tag-line for Princess Cruises.  Although I didn't always know what day it was, I was usually pretty in tune with the time. For instance, each day on the ship there were several fun activities going on, things you didn't want to miss.

At 11:15 a.m. daily there was my Ukulele class.  Who woulda thought I'd learn how to play a new musical instrument while on vacation! 

And, most every day we were at sea there were fascinating lectures. If you wanted to learn about the Islands; their plants, animals and eco-systems you could go to the morning lecture by Rachel Dunham. 

My husband and I found ourselves interested in Doug Burgess' lectures on "Piracy" and "The First Ocean Liners", but you couldn't be late for Doug's lectures.  Being the Professor that he is, his lectures began exactly at 2:15 p.m. and lasted only a half hour.  (The time always flew by too quick!)

There were also Academy nominated movies screened daily, like "True Grit", "Black Swan" and "The King's Speech" and culinary events such as wine tasting and chocolate sampling. 

Although we had a television in our cabin, we had the toughest time finding current news.  At first it was unsettling.  I'm accustomed to tuning in daily to local and world events, but on the ship, I believe there was a strategic, covert plan to keep us away from all that stuff that might stop us from 'escaping completely'.  By the third or fourth day our only interest was what news was going on in our microcosm - our temporary reality aboard the Golden Princess.  Was it formal night?  What evening broadway style show was being presented in the Princess Theatre? What would the weather be like for the day?  Did I get the trivia question right on the morning "WAKE" show with Eric and Kelvin!  These were just some of the questions that would come up during the course of the day, between special events, eating and lounging pool side.  The only paper we needed to read was the "Princess Patter" - delivered like a newpaper under our door each night.

And, then just as I was getting used to floating aimlessly on the Pacific Ocean without much of a care, reality hit!  We had reached our first destination - the big island of Hawaii - If I'm not mistaken, it's the only Hawaiian island with an active volcano!  My sister and her husband opted for a site-seeing trip to see the volcano while my husband and I along with my parents went to the beautiful Hawaiian  Botanical Gardens. 

After nearly five days of sailing, I was excited about reaching our first landing on earthly soil.  But, even while exploring the gardens and then hanging out with a couple of old friends (who were coincidently on the island at the same time as us) my thoughts were on the ship. As much fun as I was having on land, I couldn't wait to get back to the 'womb'. (That was my nickname for the ship). It's weird I know, but it was where I felt safe and secure, and most importantly it was where my reality had shifted from the daily worries and pains of work and stress and fear and anxiety - to living in the moment and being taken care of, from the minute I awoke until the minute I closed my eyes at the end of a long and happy day in paradise.

But, wait.... I guess I should 'fess up'.  Before I get too deep into the idealogy of cruising I should admit that I did have some worries. My mom and dad are in their mid-eighties.  They are incredible and I am thankful that they are still relatively healthy for their age.  But, I was acutely aware that one slip or fall could land either of them right into a wheel chair. So, there was a bit of worry, and I found myself praying to the Cruising Gods often! 

I am grateful to say that the cruise ended without a hitch fourteen days after it had begun and as I look back I can honestly say, it was one of the BEST vacations I've ever had!

Oh, by the way. After Hilo, we visited Oahu (Honolulu), Kaui and Maui, where my dad did the 'washing machine' at Whaler's Cove (another tense moment, I should add).  We also made one last stop in Ensenada.  After hearing about all the drama going on in Mexico, I wasn't sure if I even wanted to get off the ship. But, I'm glad we did.  It was a fun day, filled with shopping, drinking and more shopping.

Well, I think I've covered all of what I wanted to say. I'll just close by saying, If you ever get a chance to take a cruise to Hawaii, DO IT!! 

And, if you do, don't forget to "ESCAPE COMPLETELY!"

"Don't eat the cookies!"

My day on the set of Desperate Housewives -

When I was a kid we used to play dress up and my sisters and I would choreograph skits to songs like "Stop In The Name of Love" or "These Boots were made for Walking".  As I grew a little older I watched the Carol Burnett Show and thought to myself, "That's what I want to do when I get older!"  I wanted to become a comedic actress and make people laugh.  Then, I went through adolescence and, suddenly life wasn't so funny any more. In fact, EVERYTHING was DRAMA!

I started playing bass in rock bands soon thereafter and then it was ALL ABOUT BEING COOL.

When I moved to L.A. in 1986 my goal was to get that elusive record deal. And, as I was working toward that goal I began working in the film industry as a a scenic artist.  Ten years somehow FLEW by and I realized that i couldn't keep putting myself in harm's way with toxic paint fumes mixed with toxic long work hours, so one of my friends (Todd) suggested I try background acting. 

At first I sort of cringed at the idea of being an 'extra', but then I remembered my childhood dream of being a comedic actress and I thought, it might be fun to play 'dress up' again.

So I signed up with Central Casting (THE place to go if you want to get into 'extra' work) and I began working on shows like "Friends", "West Wing", "X Files" and more recently "Desperate Housewives".  I've also had the privilege of working with amazing actors like Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt on "Mr. & Mrs. Smith" (I was on the set while sparks were just starting to fly between those two!)  and amazing directors like Clint Eastwood and Steven Speilberg.

Last week I was once again on the set of "Desperate Housewives". They are one of a handful of TV shows that utilize forty something year old women background actors such as myself.  Many of the shows cater to a younger crowd and are looking for what is called "eighteen to look younger types".

It was a fun day, but a LONG day which began at 5:45 a.m. when my alarm went off.  I quickly got dressed, gathered my alternate wardrobe choices and headed down to North Hollywood. My call time was 7:00 a.m. and I arrived just a few minutes late, which is a miracle considering what the traffic is like in L.A. on any given day.  I was booked with my car.  This means that I would be handing over the keys and allowing them to place my car in the scene where needed.  (Sometimes you're asked to drive too, but not this time.)  My car was placed in the parking lot of what would be the elementary school where Susan (Teri Hatcher) works.  For the first three hours I sat in the holding area as they shot some exterior scenes in the parking lot, where my car did the work for me.

At about 10:00 a.m. we (about 100 background actors) were asked in to the auditorium where the next scene would take place. 

Here's the set up for the scene: There is a parent meeting going on at the school.  Snacks are being served and among them are some chocolate chip cookies that Susan made.  But, for some reason she's put poison in the cookies, so she is frantically trying to get people to put down their cookies.  "Don't eat the cookies, they're poison", she screams through the microphone on the stage.  Several of us in the crowd have one of her cookies in hand and ready to eat, so it's a close call.  By the way, i don't know why she poisoned the cookies. You'll just have to watch the episode which will probably air some time in May.

We broke for lunch at about 1:00.  If you've ever had lunch on an "A" list TV show or movie, you'll notice it's a lot like eating at a 4 star restaurant, but with way more choices. For instance, my main course comprised of Marsala Chicken, White Fish, garlic mashed potatoes, cauliflower, green beans, Caesar salad and pasta salad.  For dessert I had chocolate cake with chocolate ice cream. Then it was back to the set.

When shooting almost any scene where there is dialogue every POV (point of view) is covered.  The scene is shot from a distance, close up, from the main character's POV, from the POV of several others in the room.  It can take HOURS and patience is needed. Nearly each time I've worked on the show, I've had the privilege of working while Larry Shaw is directing. He is truly amazing - a class act. He never loses his cool and he's kind to all of the actors - even the background actors who are some times treated like second class citizens.    

Twelve hours later, we're told that the scene looked great and it was 'a wrap'- but not for everyone!  There was yet another scene to film.  I truly don't know how the cast and crew do it, day after day, working twelve to fourteen hours a day.  I've worked on hundreds of productions over the years, but usually a day here and a day there. It's a whole other thing to work day after day at that speed. This kind of work is not for the weak. It's like running a marathon! 

I was exhausted by the time I got home and pretty much collapsed immediately into bed!

It takes about four or five days for the check to come in the mail when you do background work.  It's never a fortune, but this time I made about $150.00. Not bad for a day's work on the set of "Desperate Housewives"! (If you can call it work!)