Here’s a little background on Oliver the dog. He’s a purebred cocker spaniel I adopted in January. He is the sweetest guy in the world. There are really only three things he wants to do: cuddle, slobber, and play fetch. But in order to let guests and other innocent bystanders know that he wants to do those things, he jumps on them. Incessantly. When it’s just he and I, he’s a dream, but throw someone else into the mix, and Oliver must tell his new buddy how happy he is to make his or her acquaintance.

And so, I finally relented and agreed to have Julie come over to my place to give Oliver a lesson. To be honest I wasn’t really expecting much. I mean, if I as a filmmaker and TV producer couldn’t teach a dog to sit, how was a professional dog trainer going to do any better? Yes, these are, in fact, the thoughts that go through my mind daily. But I digress.

Anyway, Julie walked into my apartment, observed Oliver, and then went to work. She looked down at him as he ran around jumping up and down on her and the furniture, tail flying back and forth like a humming bird wing, and slobber flying everywhere. Finally, she stood upright, held her hand out like a crossing guard and said calmly and firmly, “Oliver.”

He stopped, sat down immediately, and looked at her, like, “Yes, Miss Julie!” It was as if she had an instant psychic connection with him. His eyes did not waver from hers, and he listened to every word she said with the fixed attention of a tween at a Jonas Brothers concert. It was uncanny.

She worked with Oliver and I, and in less than two hours, she had us both trained!  Him not to jump on people, not to jump on the furniture unless invited, and, my personal favorite, to sit and stay in the same position until told to “release.”  And me to be the leader of our pack of two.

Today, he is a different dog. All the same sweetness and enthusiasm without the crazy kamikaze attacks! Thank you, Julie

But I digress.

Anyway, VeggieGril, for those who don’t know, is a restaurant here in LA that serves only vegan food, but much of their vegan food resembles traditional American fare like hamburgers, chicken sandwiches, and carrot cake. Usually, I am not of fan of vegetarian or vegan foods made to look like meat, but in this case, I could be president of their fan club. I mean, their food is SO good. Orgasmically good.

They even offer a nifty service called “Curbside Pickup,” where, you order ahead, and as you are pulling into the parking garage, you call them, and they come down and meet your car in a pre-designated area.

But here’s where the situation got a little sticky last night…

I’d ordered dinner for me and a friend, and at the last minute, my friend asked me to change his side of steamed kale to a side salad. I called them, and as usual, they were very accommodating. By the time I was ready to hang up the phone (I was on a hands-free device, don’t get all freaked out), I was about to pull into the parking garage. “Hey, I’m just pulling into the garage, so just come down when it’s ready.”

“Okay see you in a few,” said the friendly voice on the other end of my bluetooth.

And so I entered the parking garage and started to wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, about 15 minutes later, I started to wonder what was going on. I took the elevator up to VeggieGrill, walked in, and sure enough, there was my food waiting for me like a kindergartner waiting for his Mom, who was clearly late to the pick up.

“I’ve been waiting down in the garage since we hung up,” I announced.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry,” said the man at the register. “I missed that you were already here when you called. My bad.”

And here is when VeggieGrill went from super yummy restaurant to epic pinnacle of all things in my world. The man at the register looked at the manager, who came forward and said, “Your meal is on us tonight, and for your trouble, here is a $25 gift card. Thank you for being a loyal customer.”

Amazing. Who does things like that anymore!?

I guess the old adage is still true: The best things come to those who wait.

But, once again, I digress.

In building this website, I have gone through a good deal of my old work, pulling out boxes of DVD’s and old broadcast video masters to compile something that shows off what I have done over the years.  By doing so, I have taken so many trips down memory lane.  Different periods in my life.  Different places.  Different priorities.

I just took a look at this video below, which I produced with IFC at Sundance a few years ago, about Al Gore’s film An Inconvenient Truth, and I started to laugh.

What you don’t see in the video clip, because he really didn’t give anyone a great sound bite that day, was Robert Redford’s stroll down the red carpet.  Matt Singer, who is one of the most fun on-camera personalities I’ve ever had the joy of working with, was hosting and doing many of the interviews that year.  He’d never really been thrust into a situation quite like Sundance before, and sometimes red carpet situations can get a little, um, violent – for lack of a better word.

And so, when Mr. Redford, or “Bob” as Vice President Gore called him, made his well-timed glide down the red carpet, it quickly became clear that he was not going to give a series of interviews, stopping at every microphone individually as one typically does on a red carpet.  Instead, he decided to stand back and give a clearly-scripted-but-meant-to-appear-sort-of-off-the-cuff statement about his pride in this year’s Sundance Film Festival.  You know, canned stuff.

Of course, once everyone realized what was going on, there was a sudden frenzy to get microphones in front of Mr. Redford.  Our usually fearless host Matt was a little timid that day, as he hadn’t yet developed those kill or be killed red carpet instincts.  I, however, had.  And so, without much thought, I literally picked him up off the ground, and bracing his microphone arm up against my arm, forced him through the crowd of reporters like a battering ram.  I had no shame back then.

Matt Singer, IFC News

I do remember Mr. Redford looking at Matt’s IFC microphone and then into my eyes with a bit of disdain as he saw the plastic microphone cube hurdling toward his face.  And as I recall, Matt was even able to ask a relatively loaded and tough question during one of Mr. Redford’s dramatic pauses, which caused another disapproving stare.  But I, for one, was very proud of our intrepid host for his journalistic savvy.

The IFC crew had a lot of fun in those days, and I got to go to a lot of cool places with them.  I am grateful that I have gotten to work with such wonderful, caring, and talented people over the years and that I get to look back with happy memories at what we produced.

Wednesday afternoon, I called my Mom to lament the loss we all suffered in Maine on Proposition 1.

Side note: By “we all” I mean our entire nation.  You see, I believe that as Americans, one day we will look back on all the gay marriage propositions and referenda put on ballots in our states that essentially strip rights from people and be ashamed.  Ashamed of ourselves.  Ashamed for ourselves.  And then we will feel shame as our grandchildren look at us and ask, “Why?”

But I digress.  The irony and ridiculousness of the whole situation is laughable.  But there is no reasoning with people who live their lives in fear, anger, and envy.  They are like steamrollers in high gear without drivers.  No one is in control.

And so, while I was going through all of this with my Mom, her first response was, “But dear, you don’t spend any time in Maine.  The last time you were there was more than 20 years ago.  Don’t worry about them.  They will take care of themselves.  And you’ll see.  All this will get sorted out in due time.”

As an aside, my Mom lives in Connecticut, one of the five states where gay marriage is currently legal.  When Proposition 8 passed in California and I was so brought down, her response was simply, “Come home to get married.  So many of those people in that state where you live are just so provincial.  Anyone who would vote in favor of something as ludicrous as Proposition 8 is a provincial, small-minded person.  Get married here among intelligent people who love you.”

Back to the phone call…  I went onto explain that now I was afraid that President Obama and Congress would be unlikely to help us and stand up for our cause because of the response of the voters in Maine.  Again, her response was more big picture, “But that man was never going to stand up for you, no matter what happened in Maine.  Those people in Congress are fools, too.  Look at what is going on in this country.  They can’t even get health care right.”

She went on to encourage me to live my life by my own ideals.  To lead by example.  “The way to affect change,” she reminded me, “is to change yourself.”

I hung up with her and thought about where we were now versus where we were even just five years ago.  We have seen rapid change in a very short amount of time.  Things will continue to change, but we must look inward first.  We need to change ourselves, and that will ready us and steady us for the changes to come.

Many thanks to everyone who worked so hard on the production, and my thanks also to Josh Cohen at tubefilter for this article.

Here is Episode 1:

And here is Episode 2:

You can also check out 13 Minutes in 3D! Just go to our website: 13MinutestoMidnight.com…

Here I am on the set, with my 3D glasses in my hair, figuring out one of the last shots of a long day with our Director of Photography, Adrian…

As you can imagine, this whole project has been quite a challenge.  I wrote, produced and directed these webisodes, and so I want more than ever to make sure they are nothing short of outstanding.  Now, at the end of the post production process, there are a number of people working very hard to finish all the 3D compositing, the score, the sound mix, the color correction, and then to marry all these elements together into one fabulous final product.

The problem I am having today is in the realization that I must let go and accept that I cannot control everything!  And in my work life, that has always been a challenge because I am a perfectionist and an occasional control freak.  Right now, other than giving copious notes and granting my approval to the various elements coming my way, my part is essentially done.  I have to rely on the talent, ingenuity, and dedication of others as I watch from a careful distance.

My mantra today:  It always gets done.  It always comes together the way it’s supposed to.  It always get done…

But there is something very special about Barry. Barry genuinely cares for each and every person who walks through his door with unparalleled kindness and sincerity. Sure, he yells at you and pushes you beyond what you thought humanly possible, but that’s what you are paying for! Still, the reason I believe people keep coming back day after day, week after week, year after year is because the idea is simple. You get out what you put in. No gimmicks, no unkept promises. Just hardcore sweat that equals results. And the fact that Barry is there everyday with the same caring enthusiasm. He notices how you are changing. He takes pride in the fact that even though yesterday you couldn’t quite make a 7 minute mile, today you managed to clock in at 6:57.

For me, personally, Barry’s class has changed my life. It transformed my body from the inside out. It gave me back a core strength I haven’t had since high school. But most importantly, it helped to restore my confidence in my ability to make it through life everyday. I know that if f I can survive Barry’s class first thing in the morning without vomiting, then the rest of my day is probably going to be all right.

Side Note: I have been told by relatively objective sources that my slightly flirtatious messages tend to have the subtlety of a steam roller.

But I digress. Back to 007’s email. The message and tone were both quite clear. “BACK THE &@#% OFF,” I believe it read, followed by the obligatory email smiley face. So I flew to my iChat to find out what was going on! As it turned out, 007 had had his eye on this certain someone for a few years, but this certain someone was in a very serious relationship. That is until facebook told us otherwise. Timing is everything in life, don’t you think?

Anyway, the whole situation got me to thinking, as one does. What has happened to our world? Has our instinctive mating dance been reduced to the way we choose to address our facebook relationship status? As we progress further and further into the information age, where everything is becoming faster and faster and more optimized, I have watched some of my friends’ sex lives dissolve into a brief series of email and IM encounters. Both parties answer a series of questions on a website and then agree to meet for a hookup. Hookup happens. Needs have been met. Life moves on until someone gets horny again. And then it’s back to the Question and Answer section of tonight’s program.

Now, with the advent of iPhone apps like Grindr and Loopt, we don’t even need to speak to people at bars, clubs, restaurants, libraries or produce departments, let alone bother with clunky websites. All we need is a GPS-enabled iPhone and we’ve got ourselves our own personal sexual homing device.

Come on people! Live a little! Get up from the computer. Put down the iPhone. Take a chance and meet someone in-person and for real. Introduce friends to each other. Set people up on dates. Get set up on dates! Go have a real conversation that doesn’t include abbreviations like LOL, QT, BTW, or ROTFL. Please.

OMG – look at the time. TTYL!

I’ve been many places around the world, but nowhere on earth, at least nowhere I’ve seen, is quite like West Hollywood. WeHo is a gay city, run and cared for by a gay community, and I love it here. It is a place that embraces individuality, diversity and self-expression. Where else can an accountant by the name of Daddy Don celebrate all that he is and run a thriving accounting business at the same time?

Side note: I have a number of friends who hand their taxes over to Daddy Don each year and totally swear by him.

But I digress. West Hollywood has, of course, developed a number of stereotypes. The most consistent of all being that all the men here are so perfect they are not only inaccessible and unattainable, but their entire motivation for being seems to be the maintenance of their perfectly tanned and toned physiques. The male versions of Pamela Anderson, as it were. But so what? Who cares? This is LA, after all, and I for one would rather be surrounded by pretty people. Does that make me shallow?

But seriously, WeHo is a place where so many young men, who grew up in small-minded families surrounded by small-minded towns, first get a chance to truly be themselves and live in a city that fully supports their endeavors to be all that they can be. In other words, seeing a drag queen walk down Santa Monica Boulevard at 1:30 on a Wednesday afternoon is about as remarkable as seeing Mickey Mouse at Disneyland.

And so, I will continue to be filled with a sense of giddy gratitude every time I walk down Santa Monica Boulevard and see that Gay Flag right next to The Stars and Stripes.