Sitting My Way Through Life Read online

  Sitting My Way Through Life

  (Humor is Where You Find It)

  Written by: Palmer Scott with Kimberly Thompson Edited by: Robert Seale

  Cover and artwork by: Whitney Barker

  Special artwork page by: Drfoxmeat Foxmeats

  The Serious Stuff

  Copyright 2012

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in Any form without the express permission of the authors.

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this book to all of the many fans who have enjoyed my antics, laughed at my jokes, helped when I was hurting physically, emotionally, even financially

  and are some of the most wonderful people on Earth!

  Thank you!

  There are so many people I need to thank that I know I’m going to forget many of them, please forgive me for any omissions.

  First Kimberly and Robert, who came to me with the idea for this book. Next my manager, Christina Scott at C.A. Talent, Tim & Eric for giving me “Sit On You”, my parents, Dale and Velma, who loved me no matter what, my high school drama teachers, Mavis Steadman and Linda Bishop, Valerie Clear Pitcher for being my oldest and best friend and the first director to make me test my limits, Michael Lindsay for being even sillier than me, Elyse Ashton for being the first friend I made in California and showed me the first steps to working in this town, my brothers and sister, Joe, Mike, April and Casey who have shared so much pain and joy with me, Teddy Monte Verde for being the first to show me I had fans out there, and last, but most importantly, Whitney Barker for being my love and my rock.

  Forward

  Ahh, Hollywood. The glitz, the glamour, the unemployment. We all know about the glitz and glamour. It’s all but shoved down the throats of mainstream America. You can’t turn on the news, open a magazine, or even go grocery shopping without seeing something about one celebrity or another throwing a lavish birthday party, or buying a huge mansion. You’ll learn about how much they made in their latest movie, how much they spent on their newest car, and if that’s not enough for you, you can always turn on the television and watch one of several celebrity based reality shows.

  The truth is, however, that in the grander scheme of things, the people you hear about are of the smallest percentage of Hollywood actors and actresses. There are still the people you don’t hear or read about. They are living in regular apartments, small homes, trailers. The parties they throw are more likely to contain a cake, sandwiches, and beer from the local Walmart. There are no real statistics, but it is believed that there are between 120,000-175,000 actors in Hollywood.

  Believe it or not, most are working on something at any given time. But does that something pay the bills? Well, it all depends. Working as an actor is kind of like working for a temp agency, but not quite. See, Hollywood follows its own set of rules. If you go into a temp agency, you may be selected for a job based on your skills, experience, and knowledge. If you try out for a part in Hollywood, skills and experience may count, but not quite as much as height, eye color, skin color, nationality, weight, and all those other things that could get an ordinary employer sued if they were to deny you a job based on looks alone. The dedicated actor and his or her agent know this (or they should). So an actor will go around auditioning for parts that he or she supposedly qualifies for only to find out they don’t have the look that is wanted. However, looks and talent aren’t the only criteria. To audition and get a part, you may have to be a union member. If not, they can’t hire you, no matter how perfect for the part you may be. Then again, if the production has a small budget, they may not even bother with union members because they can’t afford to pay 100 extras for 10 seconds of screen time.

  But back to our original question: Does that something pay the bills? Obviously, one gig won’t do it unless you happen to make a few hundred thousand, which most actors do not. So the average person either finds a job that is flexible enough to allow him or her to go out on auditions, or they hope they can work often enough at their craft to at least survive. I “met” Palmer via Facebook through my son, back in December 2011. At that time Palmer was selling autographed pictures of himself from his Sit On You stint in order to make that month’s rent. This was the second time he’s had to do this. One of his fans asked him why he didn’t just go out and get a part time “regular” job in between his acting jobs. A logical question, of course. But, as Palmer answered, he would then miss opportunities for work in the field he loves the most. A logical answer. Actors have to keep their names out there. They have to make sure that they are seen and noticed. If

  they don’t...well they simply aren’t going to get work. A dedicated actor, one who loves what he does, will do whatever he has to do to keep on acting. Just like the artist who feels she must paint or die. There is something in that person that will not allow them to do anything else as a career. He or she may have other interests, but painting, acting, sculpting, writing, or whatever is just something they eat, sleep, breathe in order to mentally survive. Making it to the top, or even making a living from what they do never comes into the equation.

  I did some research on Palmer, watched a few of his videos, saw him on Frasier and realized that he had a story to tell. And boy, does he! Listening to him, watching his face as he talked, and hearing the laughter in his voice made me realize that this man was more than just dedicated to his work. He lives it. He has to. I can’t see him doing anything else and remain happy about it or his life.

  This book isn’t about his life. Nor will you read Hollywood horror stories here. It’s simply one man’s personal experience about the humorous side of working and living in Hollywood with his spouse Whitney, and their now famous felines. You’ll also read about the how they probably should both just start taking buses around town, the behind the scene incidents while making commercials, TV shows, and movies. He has a lot to tell, so sit back and get ready to laugh your ass off.

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  Q: When did you decide you wanted to be an actor? A: I really decided back when I was in high school. I had done a few things in elementary and junior high, but when I got to high school I discovered that there really was an art to it.

  CHAPTER 1. NOT ON THE ROAD AGAIN

  This particular chapter really doesn’t have anything to do with the book, however, when Palmer told us about all the problems he and Whitney have had with cars, I thought that maybe they should look into public transportation.

  We’re cursed when it comes to cars. I must have done something in a past life to piss off Henry Ford. For eight years, Whitney and I went without a car. Finally we bought one, drove to my parent’s house on Christmas day and then the plan was to leave from there and drive to Whitney’s mother’s house. My parents gave us directions to take the highway and then this back road. Well, we went on the back road and missed the cut off. We ended up going 70 miles out of our way. We didn’t have a lot of gas either. We’d go up a hill and hit almost empty on the gas tank. We’d go down a hill and have barely enough to make the next hill. At one point, we hit an area where the snow was blowing across the road. As we drove we noticed these small brown lumps in the roadway ahead of us. The closer we got the larger the lumps grew until finally we were close enough to see that the lumps were actually pheasant feeding off the wheat or whatever that had blown across the road. And they weren’t moving! We didn’t dare hit the brakes but we did slow down so that by the time we were right there, they started to fly off... into the wind. There was one very large male (I don’t know what you call a male pheasant, (stupid is what comes to my mind) who waited until the
last minute before taking off. Of course, flying into the wind he wasn’t going anywhere except into our windshield. I swear his eyes went huge as if he were saying “Oh SHIT!” just before we hit him. Fortunately, he wasn’t hurt and he flew off. I’m just happy he didn’t break the windshield. Stupid bird. Typical male.

  Anyway, we were now in an area called the San Rafael Swell. It is absolutely beautiful if that’s where you want to be. If you don’t want to be there then it’s a nightmare. We went up this one gigantic hill, got to the top only to find it was up this one gigantic hill, got to the top only to find it was complete ice on the way down. I’m yelling at Whitney, “Don’t touch the brakes!” and he’s yelling back “I’m not touching the brakes!” Luckily, we finally made it to a small town called Green River, and the gas station was open, despite it being Christmas day.

  My parents gave me a car that was stolen from the carport where it was parked. The cops found it three months later. Fantastic, except for one thing, they wanted me to pay the towing and storage fee! But my car was stolen! Too bad. I was out a thousand dollars for my stolen property! I had reported the theft immediately, but the cops and the towing company didn’t care. They just wanted their money. And the parking fees! On top of that I had to pay the parking tickets that had been on it before it was towed! What the hell?!

  One time, I decided to be a mechanic and fix the brakes on my car. A fairly simple job, right? Wrong. At least for someone who knows nothing about cars it isn’t. I had to run back and forth to the library to find out how to repair them, then run to the librarians to inform them that the book I was looking at was for the wrong year model, then run back to the auto parts store to get the tools I needed and then head back to the library to find out I was still looking at the wrong book, and so on. Who knew brakes could change so much from one model year to the next? They do. God, they do. It took me three days to put in the new brake shoes on just the right hand side of the car. It took the mechanic less than two hours to install the brakes on the left side. My thought when he was finished? “Fuck you.”

  I had also tried fixing the timing on my Chrysler Newport. God only knows what I did wrong. I was 19 or 20 and trying to be butch. I screwed up that car royally. I shouldn’t be allowed to do that sort of thing... I should stick with my stereotype and not try to fix the cars. I can replace a thermostat, though! That’s something, isn’t it?

  Then there are the accidents that Whitney has had. One year at Thanksgiving we had a Dodge Colt that Whit drove to the store. He was rear ended by a young girl. Then there was the time he decided to pull out of a parking lot at the same time a very large van was pulling in. One Geo Metro demolished.

  Author’s note: The following story was supplied by Whitney. One time, we were headed home to Los Angeles when our car broke down in a town called Beaver. Imagine it... two gay guys stuck in a town called Beaver. Anyway, it turned out that it was our transmission that had gone out. Since it was a holiday weekend, we were stuck until the garage opened back up and they could order parts. In the meantime, we had to borrow money from my mother to get the car fixed, as well as pay for the motel and food. Poor Palmer ended up missing a call back for Emerald Nuts and an audition for a movie.

  We can’t even buy insurance without pratfalls and drama. I went into an office to get coverage. I had everything all planned out. As I was speaking to the agent, he was filling out the forms. So far, so good. Then when we were wrapping up he said “Okay, your monthly payment will be $87.” I replied, “No, remember, I told you I wanted to pay the full year in advance.” “Oh, yeah, that’s right, let me go correct that.” He left and came back, “Your monthly payment will be $87.” NO,” I said “I want to pay a year in advance!” “Oh, oh, yeah, yeah, that’s right. Let me get you the correct documents.” I waited. “Okay, that will be $870 for one year.” “Why do these papers say my monthly payment is $87?” I asked. “Don’t worry about that,” the agent says, “it’s just part of the form.” “I’d like a receipt, please.” “Sure, sure.” And he writes PAID IN FULL FOR 1 YEAR across the bottom of the policy. “Now, because we had the mix-up about the monthly payments” he says “these are just temporary and you’ll be getting your new, proper policy in the mail in a week.”. I left feeling good that I had taken care of a problem for a year. Wrong. After a week there were no new documents in the mail, so I called the insurance office and asked for my agent and was promptly told he no longer worked for the company, then I asked what had happened I was informed that the agent had been skimming any cash payments (like mine) that had been coming into the office and that I WASN’T insured. When I informed them that I had a policy in hand with “paid in full” written on it they quickly changed their tune and got me a new policy that day!

  Then there was the time Whit took our Volkswagen Rabbit Diesel in for an oil change. It had belonged to his father for ten years and never had a full servicing, so Whit took it to

  a chain store famous for their quick service. Whit waited and waited nearly three hours for them to do the car. When he asked the manager why there was such a delay he was told diesels were difficult to work on and the car would be ready shortly. Let me explain something. I don’t like sharing a car with Whit. His nature is very messy and he lets things pile up, so the backseat of our car was filled with papers and containers and all sort of detritus. The next day Whit and I were driving home and were on Highland Boulevard, just south of the Hollywood Bowl when the car seizes up. It just stops running. Turns out the “technicians” had drained all of the oil out of our car and had thrown the full quarts into the backseat covering them up with the garbage they found there.

  Who ever said “It never rains in Southern California” should be shot. Well maybe not shot, but horse-whipped. Yeah, definitely horse-whipped. When it rains it RAINS, for days on end. Usually in winter it’s a drizzle that will last for four or five days, but sometimes it’s a downpour. One time I was doing “The Scottish Play” (if you know theater at all you know what I’m referring to) and we were having a party at the home of

  one of our producers, a famous character actor known for his bass voice. Anyway it was raining the hardest I’ve ever seen it and Whit and I were traveling to this party nearly a hundred miles from our apartment. We’re following a friend when we hit a pothole and BLAM! we took out the right rear tire. So I, being butch, got out and changed the tire, getting thoroughly soaked while I’m doing it, We start to drive and find that we’d also flattened our right FRONT tire. Damn, shit, hell! We tried to call our friends to let them know we were stuck. Wouldn’t you know it? We were in a cell phone dead zone, no bars, no nothing, so we had to drive two miles on the rim. We got to the party, I’m completely wet, down to my underwear. At the end of the party (and several drinks for me) we couldn’t think what to do to get home when our director called Triple-A and did a song and dance and got us towed home, bless his crusty heart!

  While on the way to film my scene in T & E’s Billion Dollar Movie I was headed down the 101 to the 10 east (believe me this makes sense to people from Los Angeles) when I hit the interchange going faster than I should have. I start to spin out. Luckily I’d given myself a lot of time to get to Palm Springs where the movie was being shot so there was very light traffic. It had been drizzling AGAIN and I hit a wet patch. I was able to retain control of the car but my back end slammed into the concrete barrier and took out my driver’s side rear tire. I pulled over, got out very carefully, and tried to change the tire myself. No go. By this time Whit and I had learned our lesson and had our own Triple A membership. I called and the guy came and helped me get the tire changed. He told me that about 20 minutes after I had taken out my tire another driver had had the same type of accident right where I had. It seems that at three in the morning there had been an accident that had an oil spill that caused a slick and was now posing a hazard to every driver who hit that interchange. Yikes! I’m lucky to have only lost a tire! I ended up driving ninety miles to Palm Springs on a doughnut tire (
I HATE those things)!

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  Q: If you weren’t an actor, what other career would you want to do the most?

  A: I’d really like to be an archaeologist. I don’t like dirt and bugs though. I don’t want to go into the tombs and dig things out. I just want to send in the peasants. You dig it out, I’ll study it afterwards.

  Chapter 2 CATS!

  This short chapter really does fit in this book when you think hard enough about it. Palmer lives in Hollywood. The cats live in Hollywood. See? It works!

  Our very first cat was a stray that walked into our apartment when she was just a few weeks old. She was this tiny ball of tortoise shell colored fluff with a purr that vibrated your entire hand. Poor thing seemed to have a speech impediment. When she tried to meow it came out as “Mah.... ah!”) The only time time you could get a real sound out of her was when you stepped on her tail then you’d get “Mah-a-a-aa-a-a-a-AH!” and a very painful swipe of her claws! So since she wasn’t a proper kitten we called her “Itten”. She loved to be chased. When we had our house in Salt Lake City’s Avenues area, our front yard was on two different levels with this beautiful tree in the lower half. Itten knew exactly how far to climb to be out of my reach and when I chased her she’d get to her precise spot and look down at me with this look on her furry little face that said “Ha, ha, I can climb trees and you can’t, fatty!”

  Well, this house was built of brick and in the sixties some huckster had talked the owners into siding it with aluminum siding. Who puts aluminum siding on brick? So, I was doing some renovation work on the front windows when an idea hit me I carefully set the ladder right next to the front steps and went in the house looking for Itten, sure enough I found her by the food dishes. She got into her running position and when I started to chase her she headed for the front tree. As we headed for the tree I grabbed the ladder, got it against the tree and climbed to eye level with her. You have NEVER seen a cat more shocked and offended by a trick played by a human! Her face had “You cheated!” written all over it!Itten was the queen of the house and she made sure that Brat (her son from her second litter, we got her fixed after her third, she was a kitten machine) and Mi-Mi knew their place. One day Brat was happily sunning himself on the parquet floor I had laid out in the sitting room with his paws tucked under his front, eyes closed in total bliss. In comes