Sunday, September 16, 2007
15 minutes of fame
So, Greg and I were filmed for a honest-to-goodness TV commercial last weekend. It was a "man on the street" kind of a deal, where the cameraman asked pointed questions.
And we gave insightful, unrehearsed answers.
The commercial will advertise "Lasting Relationships"--a grant-based program that trains and assigns marriage mentors to people who have little access to relational helps. Greg and I went through the training a few months ago and were pretty jazzed about the program.
So when we got a call last week asking if we'd mind being filmed for the promo, we were glad to help out.
"Just come as you are," instructed Mauricio, the cameraman.
So I spent the next two days debating whether or not I should get my hair done. I even called Lindsay, the fashionista of the family, and asked her what she thought about Toni and Guy--the new hair salon at the mall.
"Um, mom, I'm not sure that's the best place for you to get your hair cut." Subtlety isn't Lindsay's strong suit.
"Why?" I asked. "Angela across the street got her hair cut there and it looks really cute."
"But Angela's my age, Mom. Toni and Guy caters to hipsters . . . not that you aren't hip for an older person . . ."
Comforting myself with the thought that I would have staggered out of Toni and Guy's salon looking like a deranged cockatoo, I settled for trimming my own bangs. But that made me notice that my eyebrows had gone quite gray, looking washed out and timid next to my freshly cut fringe.
So I plucked and I pencilled, then exfoliated and toned. I'll spare you the details, but I spent more time trying to look "natural" for the stupid commercial than I've every spent getting gussied up for some fancy event.
And the shoot itself lasted less than 15 minutes!
Mauricio met us at the prearranged gas station at 10:00 Sunday morning.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you look like Tim Robbins?" he asked Greg.
He then positioned the camera so close to my face I was sure he could count my nose hairs (dang, I forgot about those!).
He told us to relax and just answer his questions.
"So, what have you done for your relationship today?" Mauricio asked in his exotic latino accent.
Greg and I just stood there, starely blankly into the lens. The question we'd rehearsed all morning was: "What have you done for your relationship lately?" We were all primed to talk about the flowers Greg sent me and the romantic picnic we'd enjoyed several days ago.
But it was ten in the morning, for crying out loud! I'd only been awake for an hour. But Greg pushed bravely on and saved the day:
"Well, I get up every morning, make a pot of coffee and take my wife a steaming cup while she's still in bed."
"Hey man, that's cool!" I could tell Mauricio was impressed.
"And what about you," he asked, turning the all-seeing-eye of the camera upon me. "What have you done for your relationship today?"
"Not much," I admitted sheepishly, for all the world to witness. "Although I did say thank-you for the coffee. And, um, the day's not over yet!"
Mauricio turned off the camera and we were finished.
He never even gave us a second shot at fame . . .