I was outside Fuzzy Door productions today until 8:00pm, sitting on a pillow made of a tapestry case I found on the street (and washed thoroughly) and some towels. For the last hour, I didn’t have any of my signs or petitions out, I just had Carrie’s star. I sat under the tree like Buddha and stared at leaves on the ground, indifferent to the oblivious passers-by. Sometimes I stared at the last car in the parking garage. I just listened to my thoughts and breathed.
Before walking home, I stopped by the synagogue down the block and the Rabbi let me use the bathroom. My period had come back with a vengeance so the Rabbi was there to make sure I was okay when I came out. I told him I was fine and thanked him for letting me use the bathroom. He said he noticed me outside Fuzzy Door productions a lot and I remembered we had spoken before. He asked for my name and information, which I wrote on a piece of notebook paper, torn from my journal. I thanked him again for his kindness and asked his name. Hershel. “Like Krusty the Clown?” Was a thought I was glad I kept to myself.
The walk I had been dreading the whole time sitting there under the tree, outside Fuzzy Door Productions, turned out to be the best thing for me. Hungry and in need of some good pot, I started asking everyone I saw on the street for a dollar. I had on my “bad hair day” beanie, but otherwise, I just look like a broke artist rather than a homeless person. More than one woman waiting for the bus said: “Oh, I’ve been there.”
By the time I got to the Zen dispensary in West Hollywood, I had enough dollars to get a couple of joints AND some food. Out of good pot for weeks, I ducked behind a dark corner of Santa Monica Boulevard and puffed the indica preroll until my brain unraveled like a string of Christmas lights, tangled in an attic all summer. My shoulders un-tensed, my forehead de-creased, I felt renewed in ways I didn’t think possible. I still had a mile walk to go, but I was okay with that.
On a roll, I kept asking strangers for a dollar, very few ignored me. If people didn’t have cash, they seemed genuinely apologetic. I complimented a gay dude’s owl t-shirt and he gave me a $5 bill. I kept asking for food money, it occurred to me I had enough. A thought popped into my head that I hesitated to write down.
Think like a Jew.
Now, hear me out. Last year, my therapist asked me who I inherently trusted and my immediate response was my Uncle Michael. Michael married my Aunt Sue, who we lost to Leukemia back in 2010. He will always be part of our family because he’s a good, honest person, fun to be around, and he was always a spectacular husband to Sue, even when she got sick and we all had to go through losing such a wonderful woman together. Michael is culturally Jewish, not that strict about it, he celebrates the Catholic holidays with the family and we wish him happy high holidays. I trust Michael because he’s honest about money. I’ve learned that it’s okay to ask for money from people who believe in what I’m doing, just be honest about how much.
The last people I asked for money on my walk home gave me a chicken sandwich in a paper box that I immediately tore open and ate with my dirty, bare hands like a savage, ravenous beast. It was a glorious triumph.
I am going back to Fuzzy Door Productions tomorrow to sit under that tree again and I’m going to figure out exactly how much work I’ve done on #AStarForCarrie, how much time I’ve spent, how much money (I ask for receipts for EVERYTHING), and get together the figure I need to raise in order to hire more people to help with this project. My mistake was spending all that money on things to give away to homeless folks (socks, granola bars, vitamins) and I should have been hiring them to help me. That “give a man a fish” proverb really hits home when you’re trying to start a non-profit. I don’t want to give people just what they need to survive, I want to give them a WAY to survive.
On the last leg of my Journey, it dawned on me WHY I started #OccupyFamilyGuy, as a way to gain a celebrity endorsement for the cause. I have a little under 1,600 followers on twitter, so that’s where I’ve been doing most of my recent social media marketing outside of my blog and Youtube videos. I need someone with pull, with millions of followers and a NAME that grabs attention. Instead of trying to hit multiple targets, why not go for that heart-shaped bullseye? I love everything about Seth MacFarlane and I believe he would endorse these causes in a heartbeat if I had 60 seconds to talk to him. Maybe less. If I keep sitting outside his office, like a rock, like a zen little Buddha, making art and petitioning for causes which he would adore… Seth is bound to notice.
Which brings us to this weekend. ComicCon in San Diego. I have theorized in my previous blog #OccupyFamilyGuy: Will the Real Seth MacFarlane Please Stand Up? That the ONLY way Seth is able to produce three television shows at once is to hire body/voice doubles to make appearances for him. Another meta-mindfuck level to this theory is I was at Dylan Brody’s (Seth MacFarlane in Disguise) “house” last year during ComicCon. Dylan could have been the double that weekend, but the “Seth” I saw in the coverage of that event seemed a little… off. Like you know when you ask for a Coke and they bring you a Pepsi without telling you? That. I have no way of knowing for sure, I can’t prove it in court, I could just be crazy, I could just be wrong, but I could also be right. Consider the possibility that a man who produces so much must outsource a lot of the on-camera work.
ComiCon sounds like a lot of fun, I could raise what I need to get this nonprofit started and double my signature count for #AStarForCarrie. It could also be a nightmare for a lone female in a braless Princess Leia costume, cultivating a feminist cause. Seth could offer his endorsement and a sort of protection from the “nerd-bros”. I’ve seen an ugly side of the internet and without (the real) Seth MacFarlane there to stand beside me, I think I’d rather hide out in Dylan Brody’s class. It’s up to them.
The goal of #OccupyFamilyGuy is to suggest to the producers that they hire an all-female staff of writers for one episode of next season. I only need one signature to make that happen. Seth MacFarlane. I believe he can help me make #AStarForCarrie happen simply by endorsing the project. Maybe he hasn’t heard enough about it and I have to keep writing, show my work. Maybe he knows how to think like a Jew…