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Bride/building/bikes/bricks/boys/BIG SHOTS
YOU MUST ...B... READY
1986 was a landmark year. I married a widower with a young daughter instantly transforming me into the role of a wife and mother in the process while propelling me into another dimension in the land of the burbs.
My new husband and I were building a new home on a lot we had purchased a month before the wedding in a nice area near our family and friends. Although I had planned to say "I do" in April, prior to that, I said, "I'd rather not" when we discussed staying where he and his first family lived.
In May, I was finally able to utilize my hard earned and never used real estate license in order to sell his place. My ready made family and I put most of our belongings in storage and set up house in a cramped apartment in a unfamiliar suburb, as far away from everyone as possible and as my Dad likes to say, "where God lost his shoes"
My ambitious new husband, decided to undertake the monumental job of general contractor in addition to simultaneously moving his growing and expanding insurance business to another location closer to our new residence.
While I was engaged, I had visions of giving Nicole a bath before her Daddy arrived home from work, changing her into a cute little summer dress and sprucing myself up a bit and possibly sharing a little spray of perfume with my darling little daughter right before Joe walked in the door every night. In my dreams he would then be greeted by his adoring girls and treated to a delicious meal. Afterwards, we might all go for a family bike ride or take a stroll around the block holding hands, stopping occasionally to greet our neighbors along the way, and perhaps, once in awhile going out for some ice cream. Needless to say, it never happened!
After I married him, I hardly ever saw the guy. He was way too busy and when he was home, my poor hubby was exhausted! Instead, most days, I put Nicole in the bike carrier seat, strapped on our helmets and spent quite a bit of time riding around and exploring the unfamiliar as well as unfriendly remote and new neighborhood. We made picnic lunches and read books under trees and almost always stopped for ice cream before heading back to our overcrowded abode decorated with couches standing upright on their sides.
After receiving our permit to begin construction in June, even before our loan was approved, (another story) my new mate took a leap of faith, and dove into the project, full speed ahead. He found himself spending every waking hour tending to his business and working on the new house. I was in charge of interior details like purchasing the washer and dryer and kitchen appliances and cabinets, choosing fixtures, carpeting, tile and grout. (Who knew there were so many grout colors?) Another story. He was in his normal overdrive mode and I was on information overload. So sick of making decisions, I had a difficult time deciding what shoes to wear.
Only a few short months before my new life began, I was a producer working in downtown Chicago, single and living in a high-rise apartment along Lake Michigan. Details such as these never crossed my mind. Much to my dismay, I did not enjoy the tedious process in the least, truth be told, I hated every minute. The man at the furniture store asked me if I preferred a traditional style over a contemporary look and I had no idea how to answer? (However, if I were to build a house today, all these years later, I now have very definite opinions of what I like and don't like… although when asked that same question, I tell people I am ‘eclectic’(The wonderful all encompassing category for those of us who can not make up our minds)
While I was obsessing over the brick color, and finally had it narrowed down to red or white, my husband happily informed me he had made a deal with one of his clients who knocked down buildings for a living. We were offered the used bricks for free! All we had to do was transport them. Secretly I was thrilled to get out of another chore, but was very leery of the color and condition of the so called "free bricks” The two of us grabbed our camera one afternoon and headed to an address where we were directed only to discover a horrible old abandoned building in the heart of a dangerous drug infested area. I was actually afraid to get out of the car to take the photo. Boy oh boy, if those bricks could talk, I bet they'd be able to tell us a few interesting stories. As soon as I was able to get a good look, like a typical female, I began to cry. Naturally, Joe put on a brave face, yet, I found out afterwards, he was a little nervous himself over what he believed to be the deal of a lifetime. He tried unsuccessfully for quite sometime, to reassure me that this ugly mortar, standing unevenly before us, would look different when moved to a better neighborhood. Poor lucky Joe just crossed his fingers and prayed and of course, as usual, he was right.
I’m still not quite sure if the Chicago Bricks, a very popular choice I might add, framing our house, are actually the same battered and bruised ones I saw on that scary unforgettable afternoon? But. thats, another story!
Joe insured most of the contractors and in order to save money, became each one of thier special assistants or grunt workers. He did whatever was needed, doing jobs such as helping to dig the foundation, wire the place with electricity, lay pipes for the plumbing, sweeping the floors, filling the dumpsters, and cleaning the cigarette butts and fast food wrappers enviably left every single day.
In addition, this remarkable man I married, kept track of the budget and a myriad of other tasks. (Well, we sort of forgot one or two things along the way, like where to put the phone jacks and electrical outlets…on the night before the deadline, armed with flashlights and carrying Nicole, we ran around trying to decide where to put them.) One morning I pulled up to our “work in progress” to find the window that was supposed to be centered above the front door, happened to be way off to the side plus someone forgot all about a window in the back of the house on the second floor. Each and every time one of these situations or setbacks occurred, my general contractor husband confidently told me it was being handled, not to worry, that these things were only minor glitches and to be expected.
During the course of a typical day Joe would run to the house after receiving a call that a truck load of lumber or windows were sitting in our driveway waiting to be unloaded. Like superman, he'd change out of his suit and tie and into his “hard labor duds” then proceed to do whatever was necessary. According to his calculations, we were scheduled to move in sometime around Thanksgiving, right around the time I was standing up in a wedding of a good friend.
In the mist of all this chaos, I received a call in early September from John Wilson, the production manager who had hired me before I was married, to do all the locations for a movie filmed in Chicago, called the Code of Silence, staring Chuck Norris. John knew I had taught school after graduating from college; my degree was (K through 9) He wanted me to be the studio teacher for the 2 young boys in the feature film, Big Shots, for a few weeks until the women he had hired from California was available.
I adored John and secretly wanted to jump at the chance to see all my old friends. John is very loyal and always hires the same crew whenever he comes to Chicago and the entire clan from The Code of Silence was already on board. I reluctantly explained my situation and told him I was sorry, my plate was way too full at the moment and besides, I was now a mom, I couldn't just leave my little girl home by herself. He insisted, and suggested I hire a baby sitter and offered to make it financially worth my time and energy. (I was already thinking of what the money might buy for our new house) My mother who had been dying for grandchildren cheerfully stepped up and offered to watch Nicole.
Normally when you work on a movie, you have absolutely no idea what time you might start let alone finish everyday or where you might end up when the day is over. This was during a time before every human being on the planet had a phone or a pager. It wasn’t exactly the ideal job for someone with a family. On the other hand, John assured me I was going to be working in one location, at the Ambassador Hotel on the Gold Coast in a make shift classroom the entire time, and since it was still preproduction, the hours were going to be somewhat consistent.
A friendly family atmosphere is in the air on most movie sets. The cast and crew grow very close spending long hours together working side by side. The business has its share of hurry up and wait moments, allowing us the luxury of providing plenty of time to get to know one another besides creating a make believe environment that lends itself to a ton of fun not to mention fabulous free food served around the clock.
I had a ball getting to know the boys and meeting their parents and being reunited with my old buddies again.
10 year old Ricky Busker, was the only boy surrounded by a gaggle of sisters from a very straight-laced Mormon family. The poor little guy was devastated when his mom gave birth to their 6th daughter. Feeling sorry for him, his Dad decided to take his only son on a road trip to Chicago, about an hour or so away from home. While at a McDonalds having breakfast, they read somewhere about an audition being held for a movie that very afternoon. On a lark and without any plans, they headed for the tryouts. Never in a million years did they ever think he had even half a chance. All the other actors had impressive portfolios. Ricky had only played a verb in a school play and that was the sum total of his acting experience to date. His family was literally floored when given the news that he won the lead role.
His co-star, 10 year old Darius McCrary, a black boy, was from a savvy show biz family who lived in Los Angel who had a few projects under his belt, though he too was rather new to the scene. Darius is best known for his role years later as Eddie Winslow on the long-running television series "Family Matters."
The production company provided the boys and their families with a suite in a fancy hotel and gave them an allowance of sorts called ‘per diem’ Latin for ‘per day’ to spend as they saw fit. It amounted to more money than Ricky’s father earned in a week. The Buskers certainly thought they had died and gone to heaven.
Ricky bought his very first pair of designer jeans and gym shoes. At least one parent or designated guardian is required on set at all times. Ricky’s dad was home in Rockford taking care of the house and the girls while his mom and their new baby were living the good life. Another story
When the two weeks were up, I was sad to say goodbye to my new buddies and my old friends. The new tutor was set to arrive the following day. When I picked up my check I was told John wanted to see me in his office. John had an a perpetual twinkle in his eyes, and he sort of reminded me of a leprechaun even though he worked on Ghost Busters and Risky Business and plenty of other major hits. He gave me that look of his told me he had a real dilemma on his hands and needed another favor.
The boys parents had a meeting with him earlier and insisted I continue to be the tutor. They said the boys were attached to me and that having to adjust to a new teacher would be too hard on them...etc
Lets just say, the people behind the scenes usually do whatever it takes to keep the stars happy. Since he had already offered this other tutor the job, John suggested that I stay and share the position. Hum sounded, interesting….
To be continued
This story was inspired when I came across 3Twigs avatar yesterday.
It is a picture of the 2 boys I tutored, Ricky and Darius.
I have some funny pics of our house under construction, that I do not have time to download or upload at the moment, but I did find a u tube of the movie which should accomplay part 2, of this saga, oh well, I will probably move it all around another time....
Posted by roe on 2009-10-15 21:44:45 | Rating: | Views: 152
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