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I’d Tell You More, But I’d Have To Kill You

Last week I got called to be an extra on a television show that films in Portland. In fact, it has the word ‘Portland’ in the title. I’d be giving too much away if I said it also had ‘ia’ immediately following the ‘Portland’. Yes, that would certainly be saying too much. Because if I’m known for anything, it’s for my ability to keep my mouth shut and never, ever, ever, ever, ever over-share.


After I determined the nice person sending me anonymous texts was actually from a casting agency and not a Nigerian prince looking for my debit card number, things went fairly smoothly. I got there at o’dark hundred, and we stood/sat around for the next seven hours, mingling with the cast, crew and directors, trying to give them what they wanted, when they wanted it.  I will say this – the skits were funny and you will totally want to see them. And while it was a hoot to be there, the background people (extras like me) weren’t given much direction as to where or what we were doing, so it took a while for me to catch on to the premise/joke. Or I could have been a little derpy. It was early.

I managed to take a few pictures of the set, though if I identify anything, I believe that gives someone the authority to either knee-cap me, or kidnap my cats. I’m not sure. Those non-disclose agreements are always a little tricky, and I was woozy from hunger when it was thrust at me to sign. The pics are mostly a reminder of the day – a memento for this old lady to prove to my future grandchildren that I was there.

2013-10-09 10.18.25


Those may or may not be the legs of a relatively famous funny guy who used to be on a late night weekend show filmed live, in New York. Both he and his female counterpart were kind, professional, funny as hell, and very well prepared for the skits. It took possibly 50 or more people to film these bits – plus about sixteen extras, and three or four featured actors who got to speak on camera.

It was so glamorous and fabulous.

Just like in the movies.


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