hrmph. I'm not on the map. Nor does the map load at the highest resolution, the one on yahoo. (Every time I use yahoo, I grow more annoyed. It's a shame they swallowed flickr.) The map itself is really well done.
Anyway, I'm in Port Hueneme, NW of Los Angeles, not far from a town called Ventura (named after San Buenaventura) that might actually be on a world map. It's Southern California, and both the climate and the craziness here are just as advertised. I can hardly ever go to my favorite beach without seeing a commercial being filmed at one end of it. Those people are a trip. One woman I spoke to had the job of finding the Perfect Beach Rock for the background of one shot. Finding the perfect piece of driftwood was someone else's job. Yet another person artfully arranged some careless sand. And these are just the lowest-level flunkies. There are about thirty of them. There are about a hundred people all told, four or five huge equipment and dressing room trucks, and enough cars to fill the whole parking lot (bit of a sore point, that). I began to understand why it costs a million dollars to film a 30-second commercial. |
