The Video!

You know the credits that whiz by on your screen at the end of a television show? The endless parade of teeny names scurrying by so quickly no human eye can read them? When was the last time you said, "Wait! we simply must Tivo this so I can slow it down enough to find out who did makeup for the second unit during the food fight scene!"

I didn't think so. And music videos, it seems, are even lower on the digital food chain than I Love Lucy reruns. You might see the name of the song, the group, the director, and record company, and that's it. If you want to know who fed the cast and crew between downpours, or who towelled off the patio for the line dancers, or who was in charge of jiggling the handle on an itinerant toilet so things flowed smoothly, you are simply out of luck.

At the time, making the video seemed like such a huge deal. And it was a big undertaking. But my main concern was handling the instant stardom it would certainly bring, and the TMZ paparazzi fallout. Would I be forced to grocery shop late at night to avoid my adoring fans like Britney does? (At the Vons on PCH in Malibu. On Tuesday nights. In case you want to help her load her Evian and Stoli into her car. Evian goes in the back. Stoli goes between the baby carseats.)

It has already started. Yesterday, as I cruised the vegetable aisle, I was getting weird stares and heard the murmurings begin:

"Isn't that the assistant director/lo-flo jiggler for the Country Girlz video?"

"Wow, she does her own grocery shopping - how counter-culture is that!"

I had to autograph 3 cucumbers and a Cup-a-Soup before I could make it out of the store.

So what's the hype all about? This:

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.showvids&friendID=61035545&n=61035545&MyToken=f71fae2d-14f5-4263-a0c4-e4c3d289bce2
At about the three-minute mark, I have a brief cameo. I would have been in more of the video, but that misbehaving toilet kept me pretty busy. Plus I didn't want to give my adoring fans too much the first time around. Or I'd be forced to become a recluse and have Britney do my shopping for me.

Just Your Typical Saturday BBQ

The morning of the video shoot, I was awakened at 4 am by thunder. Hasn't rained substantially in the LA area in nearly a year. I haven't thrown a party in several years. But there we were, watching puddles procreate on the patio. Ever try to barbeque in your living room? It doesn't work too well. Ever try to film a country music video in your living room? That works about as well as a barbeque. For either one, pretty soon your house is full of smoke and noise, and your dogs have disowned you.

Taping started at dawn. Tapping the keg started shortly thereafter. Taping and tapping continued until sunset. Tapping my foot from hearing the song in my brain continues. I cannot get this song out of my head! R U Down with the Country Girlz?

The early morning shots were up in the hills. With the storm, lighting was phenomenal. Everything glowed, slick and alive. Too bad Los Angeles can't be like that all the time, but to see it then was special.

Next were the truck shots. The whole band piled into Howie's truck, the cameraman in front of them filming, hanging out of the trunk of the camera car. Major mud puddle action, bumpin', splatterin', country four-wheelin'. No whining from anyone. At least, nothing we could hear over the pounding of the rain.

At times it absolutely poured. After drought conditions for years, we never saw the sun that day. Rain chased many SoCal sissies inside, so attendance was a bit lower than expected. But the group that showed up - wow. To say they were diehards is an understatement. We'd run outside to lighten the margarita machine, then we'd head back in for a while until the rain stopped. Then we'd dance. Then it would rain. Then we'd dance in the rain. Then we'd do it all over again.

Due to the shortage of line dancers, I was forced to put on daisy duke shorts and power jam in the mud with the band. Yes, I know, twist my farmer's-tanned arm. We line danced between downpours, mud sucking at our boots, smiling, laughing, giggling. Not a single complaint all day from anyone. Lots of 'thank-you's' and tons of help from everyone. Even the dogs cooperated by clearing the floor of ribeye bits and margarita spills. Urp.

Were our glasses half full or half empty? All I know is, there was rain in them. And for the record, rainwater margaritas are awesome.

Can't wait for y'all to see this. Although I'm not sure the country music world is ready. Not sure anyone is. I sure wasn't!

Starting November 17th, we'll be posting 30-second spots on CMT advertising the video. It will then be available for download on Youtube. Some record exec will see it and throw gold coins, which will hurt when they hit us, but eventually will come in handy.

I will be writing in simple sentences until I recover from this whole ordeal. Someone get me another paper bag to breathe into.

What Was I Thinking?

This Saturday, they're filming a music video at my house. I use the term 'they' to distance myself from the people doing this to me. Yes, I know them, or thought I did. Now, however, in a quiet, fleeting moment of sanity, I have my doubts.

Somehow, in a freak mental lapse, I okayed this. I'm allowing potentially hundreds of people I've never met before, except for seeing their pictures on the "Wanted" posters in the post office, into my humble home. I'm even feeding them. I might even clean up a bit. I'm definitely getting a tetanus shot.

I should point out that this video shoot is sandwiched neatly between Halloween, psycho sugar holiday of rioting teens and pumpkins rumbling down streets at midnight, and Daylight Savings Sunday, when everyone migrates south an hour earlier than normal, turning clocks back a bit so the Stock Market can catch its breath.

Okay, so it's not that bad. Just a video crew, a country band, a lot of food and fun. The song for the video is, in my perfect opinion, awesome, and of course that creates more problems. Once this video gets major airplay, people are going to start picking apart the setting, i.e. my house:

• Did you see those curtains? With THAT couch? What was she thinking?
  
• The rose bushes are eight feet high - when was she planning on trimming them - 2012?
  
• Someone was drinking white wine with their steak. How could she let that happen?

Chance of rain on Friday and Sunday. So far Saturday looks ok, but then, SoCal is known for its subpar weathermen. Sometimes their botox absorbs a little too well, and their standard "Sunny and 80" monologue kicks in. They often pre-record their forecasts two weeks in advance, then sneak off to Maui. In other words, who knows what the weather will be like Saturday. Santa Anas, perhaps? Forest fire? Mudslide, anyone?

My son's birthday party was once forced inside by rain. Yes, I'm aware people elsewhere deal with this all the time. Here in SoCal, though, it's simply bizarre and completely unexpected. We pay good money to avoid weather. Anyway, we had to tie a rope off the upstairs railing for the pinata and hope nobody took out a support wall with their pinata bat.

No pinata bats this time. Everyone is expected to bring their own weapons. BYOBats.

If you're curious about the song, it's called "Country Girlz" and it's here - http://www.myspace.com/howievaughn.

Don't mind me - I'm just going to sit over in the corner here until Saturday, breathing into this paper bag so I don't faint.