Newspaper Page Text
Dave Barry.
What's My Line,
Please?
By Dave Barry
THE
Anyway, we finally got through
it, even my scenes. If you ever see
it ("Dave Barry's Complete Guide to
Guys"), I hope you enjoy it. And if you
notice that, at times, I appear to be dis
tracted, that's a good example of what
I'm talking about.
This classic DAVE BARRY column
ISLANDER, MARCH 30, 2009, PAGE 7
was originally published, May 30, 2004.
(C) 2009 The Miami Herald. Dist. by
Tribune Media Services.
Dave Barry is a humor columnist
for the Miami Herald. Write to him do
Tropic Magazine, The Miami Herald,
One Herald Plaza, Miami FL 33132)
□
I figured out why movie stars gen
erally are young. It's not just because
they look good naked. It's also because
their brains still work.
I learned this recently when I
became an "actor" in a movie being
made in Miami based on a book I
wrote about guys. I put "actor" in quo
tation marks because real actors can,
you know, act. Whereas my job in this
movie was to walk into the scene where
the real actors were acting, and say a
line like: "Now, that's a good example
of what I'm talking about!" Sounds
easy, right? You just walk in there and
say one sentence! What kind of moron
would have trouble with that?
An older moron. Me, for example.
Oh, I'd memorize my line all right. I'd
say it over and over, walking around
the set like a deranged person, mut
tering to myself: "Now, that's a good
example of what I'm talking about!
Now, that's a good example of what
I'm talking about! Now, that's a good
example of what I'm talking about!"
After maybe 600 repetitions, I'd be
ready to go. The problem was that the
movie crew was never ready when I
was. Movie crews are, basically, never
ready to go. There's always a prob
lem. Sometimes the light is too bright;
sometimes it's too dark; sometimes a
key actor develops a flagrant booger.
It's always something. And on those
rare occasions when everything is per
fect and you're set to go, suddenly, out
of nowhere, a guy will appear about 50
yards away and fire up a leaf blower.
It seems to be the same guy every
time, no matter where you go. You
could be filming a scene at the North
Pole, and just when the director said
"Action," vroom, there'd be your leaf-
blower guy.
The point is that there are endless
delays on the movie set while the crew
scurries around changing the lighting,
wiping the booger, shooting tranquiliz
er darts at the leaf-blower guy, whatev
er. During these delays, I would strive
to keep my line-"Now, that's a good
example of what I'm talking about!"
-foremost in my brain. But mine is
an older brain, already crammed to
capacity with vital information, and
soon other thoughts would start seep
ing, like sewer gas, into the forefront.
For example, my brain would decide,
for reasons of its own, that now-right
now, on the movie set, when I was
about to do a scene-would be an excel
lent time to review the song sung in
"Animal House" by Otis Day and the
Knights, "Shama Lama Ding Dong."
So I'd be walking around, with my
mouth muttering, "Now, that's a good
example of what I'm talking about!
Now, that's a good example of what I'm
talking about!" But my brain, in a loud
brain voice, would be singing, "You're
SHAMA LAMA, my rama lama DING
dong!" over and over and over until
this was all I could think about, and
just then the director, Jeff Arch, would
say "Action," and, with the camera and
microphone pointed at me, and every
body watching me, I would say: "Now,
that's an example of a good thing I am
talking about!" Or: "I am talking about
a good example of a thing now!" Or:
"It's a good thing I have been talking
now, about that example!" And Jeff
would say "Cut," and we'd have to do it
again, and then again, until it became
clear to everyone that, dialogue-wise,
the scene would work better with just
the leaf blower.
I did one scene with—I swear I
am not making this up-a trained
Chihuahua named Sidekick. I was
supposed to pick Sidekick up off the
ground, and, while walking toward
the camera, say three sentences. Are
you familiar with the old expression,
"He can't walk and talk and carry a
trained Chihuahua at the same time?"
That describes the situation perfectly.
I'm holding this dog, walking forward,
looking at the camera, sweat gushing
from every quadrant of my armpits,
and the boombox of my brain is going:
"You put the OOH MAU MAU, oh oh
oh oh, back into my SMILE, child!" So
we did it over and over, me picking up
this poor defenseless dog, apparently
for the sole purpose of blowing my
lines. I bet when Sidekick got home he
really chewed out his agent.
Tl« ,
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