A Memorable Day

By
Geoffrey Zimmerman

The menacing late morning sky presaged change to the small bayside village of Lanvik as Lenny Danielsson sat on the undulating tundra overlooking Smallwhale Bay.

Barely five miles away, the sky from sea to horizon was fraught with dark clouds that rolled forth like billowing oily smoke.

He peered upward and the wind threw his hair back. Above him, wispy clouds raced inland across the crisp blue sky. His rough fingers worried a group of smooth age-worn runes and he looked down at the shiny stones, beckoning them to bring him luck. He prayed the incoming storm was not an… continue reading “A Memorable Day.”

How I Got Hired Onto The Production Staff of Miami Vice

For years, I had always gotten involved in theater production in my hometown of Glastonbury, Connecticut.

Sometimes I was on stage. Sometimes I was back stage as Assistant Stage Manager or Stage Manager. Danny, a friend I had always done shows with, knew some local musicians. They had played a few small bar gigs and wanted to do a music video.

They hired me as Production Assistant on their video. We shot for two days at a small amusement park in Connecticut. We had moving camera shots, high angle shots, roller coaster shots and even a ride along shot in a boat in the tunnel of love. It was all a little low budget. We shot on video, not film. Video in the late seventies was not as slick as the stuff we use today.

The producer of this video knew some folks who were shooting a commercial. I got on that project and took on more responsibility than the music video. Other acquaintenances of the rock band needed some film work, and I wrote some copy for them. Slowly but surely I was building a resume that included writing and video and film production.

By the way, I just realized that the stuff I include here will be fleshed out in more detail in a memoir book I’m compiling called A Trip Down The Well, an in-depth description of my adventures and experiences. God knows if that story will ever be done. It seems every time I turn around I’m embarking on a new venture where “who knows what” will happen. And usually I get involved with wild people and experiences.

Every year that passes seems to bring a new chapter or two.

Getting back to Miami Vice…I moved to Miami in 1982, three years after graduating from high school. At first I lived in Kendall, (a suburb of Miami) with my brother and his girlfriend. I slept on their couch in their living room. My brother told me, “You have thirty days. You’re out in thirty days, so get a job and a place to live.”

I spent lots of time sending out resumes, making phone calls and looking for the job of my dreams… to work at a commercial production studio. I have anecdotes about those first thirty days in Miami, babes in thongs by the pool, the trip to the nude beach, the Village Inn bar, but those can wait for the memoir book.

Suffice it to say that as I neared day thirty I began to think a little more practically. I dropped my brother off at his bartending job, borrowed his VW bug with no air conditioning and went job searching.

I drove to strip malls – walked into Radio Shack, a hair salon and a few restaurants. No chef jobs were available. August in Miami was tough – humid as Hades, so I decided to get out of the heat and walked into to a Ruby Tuesdays and applied for a job as dishwasher. I filled out the application, spoke to the manager and got the job. I had eleven dollars to my name. I was so despondent that I spent four dollars on a large beer.

I sat in the bar assessing my own worth, and feeling sorry for myself. While I sat there, wondering what I was going to do, (knowing in my heart I was well past the washing dishes stage in life, knowing I would probably never show up for this job) I eavesdropped on some pretty girls having afternoon drinks at a table near me. The girls mentioned a place called The Grove several times in their conversation. I listened closely and learned this place they talked about was near, just up route one. I envisioned a Bohemian paradise, a place where girls only wore bikinis and all hangouts were under thatched huts, and most drinks were served in coconuts. I wasn’t far off. But I digress…

I decided to get back into the sweaty and sweltering VW and head up US 1 North.

My mind was blown.

I had been on the road just 20 minutes, had ventured a direction and into a place I’d never been… and when I pulled of US 1, drove about a mile through rot-encrusted tenements and made the main drag of “The Grove”, I knew I had arrived. The place was like I had envisioned The Bahamas in America. I took my foot off the gas and rolled.

I parked the car and got out. I happened to be standing right next to some walled outside terrace, where large umbrellas shielded the tables. I walked through the terrace, into the restaurant and up to the bar. There were a few guys sitting at the bar, but one fellow was on his stool, leaning back against the wall and talking with the bartender. That’s where the cash register was. The bartender came over to me.

“What can I get you?” he said, setting a square napkin down in front of me.

“I wanted to see if you were hiring…” I said. The guy leaning against the wall turned to me.

“What can you do?” he asked.

“I’m a cook,” I said.

“When can you start?” he asked.

“Whenever…” I said.

“Tonight?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said.

“See you at five o-clock?” he said.

“You betcha,” I said. He held out his hand. I shook it.

“I’m Geoffrey,” I said.

“I’m Tony,” he said. “ I run the place.” I smiled.

And that was that. Tomatoes restaurant. I did come back. I did cook.

That first night I met a waitress who needed a roommate, and the very next day I moved in to her place. Day 30. I had a job and a place to live. There are other details regarding Tomatoes restaurant. Some fun times, some not so fun times. But, after a few months, I moved on and found work at Steve’s Ice Cream, where I would stand in front of the customers, slap down their favorite flavor of ice cream, and mix into the ice cream all manner of “mix-ins”, stuff from nuts to crumbled Oreo cookies, to coffee. I was earning seventy dollars per week, barely enough to keep on top of my two hundred dollar rent I was paying Karen, the waitress from Tomatoes.

I was still interested in getting a job in film or TV. Miami had a group called the FMPTA, The Florida Motion Picture and Theatre Association. I borrowed my brother’s car and went downtown to a small motel and listened to Mary Lee Lander, the Film Coordinator from Florida give a talk on all the projects that were shooting in town. She knew who was doing what. She’s the lady you contact if you’re either in Florida or coming their from another state and want to find 35 millimeter cameras, processing labs, Winnebago’s, make-up rooms, lights… All that filmmaking stuff.

I took some notes and phone numbers. She said a few projects had come to town – Mundo Real, a Spanish TV show was in a studio downtown shooting weekly segments. A few other folks were in town shooting commercials.

And then she said that Universal Studios had just wrapped a two-hour pilot, (like a TV movie) and NBC had purchased three more episodes of a cop show called Miami Vice. She gave the production office number and then told some stories about other movies she had worked on, famous people she had met and answered questions from some of the twenty of us who were present in the room.

I had an ideal. I had decided that I would work at a TV commercial studio – that I would work 9-5 Monday through Friday- at a stable job – and make good bucks. So after I got home I called all the studios Mary Lee Lander, (the film coordinator) had mentioned, left messages – and waited. I went back to work at Steve’s Ice Cream – slapping down soft ice cream in front of customers and mixing in all kinds of goodies.

Then, after about a week, I took another look at the contact list I had made at the FMPTA meeting. There was one item on my list I had yet to check off as “done”. NBC Studios seemed like a real stretch to me. But what the heck I said to myself as I dialed the production office number and asked to speak with the Production Manager. After a moment, an older fellow got on the phone.

“Hello. This is Don Gold,” he said. I told him who I was, what I wanted and he took my number.

I got back on my bicycle, rode to Steve’s Ice Cream and resumed my menial job. The next day, I came home from work and my roommate, Scott, told me I had received a phone call.

“Don Gold called,” he said, and handed me a piece of paper with a number written on it. It took a few seconds for the name to register, but as I closed my door, picked up the phoned and dialed the number, a tingle ran up my spine and I sensed I was about to enter a new realm.

“Miami Vice production?”… “May I please speak with Don Gold?”
“Who’s calling?”

“Geoffrey Zimmerman.”

“Hold on.” I waited for a few seconds, taking an account of my meager surroundings, wondering if soon I would be riding in a…

“Hello? This is Don Gold.”

“Mr. Gold. This is Geoffrey Zimmerman. I called and left a message.”

“Yes… can you come in for an interview tomorrow…?”

“Yes. What time?”

“Ten AM.”

“Perfect…”

“Do you need directions?”

“No, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Bye bye.”

“Bye.”I hung up and exhaled. I balled my fist and struck the air. “Yes!”, I shouted. “Fucking yes.” I left my room and danced, skipped, hopped and nearly did back flips in front of Scott.

“I have an interview tomorrow at Universal fucking studios,” I sang. Scott smiled. For some miraculous reason, I was actually able to sleep. All was conjecture; nothing was set, so I suppose the whole deal was a big “maybe”.

I arrived at the Conover Hotel at nine thirty, took the elevator to the fourth floor and entered a new world. There was no big commotion. There were no cute babes dashing around, holding scripts in their hands, but I knew, I sensed that what happened on this floor was cool, mighty cool. All doors on the entire fourth floor were open. Folks were leaning over desks, sitting at desks, smoking cigs, and talking “movie talk.”

I stepped into a few rooms, got some raised heads with furrowed brows and learned the production office was just down the hall, room number something. I stepped into room number something, met all six curious eyes and told them I was there to see Don Gold.

“Have a seat,” one tall, thin blonde gal told me as she whisked by and stepped through an adjoining door. There were no mags to read. There was nothing to look at, except the few folks who sat at small desks before me, smoked cigs and typed, read or answered the phone. I sat. And sat. And sat some more. People moved around me like bees. At half an hour I was uneasy. At forty-five minutes I was twitch and fidgety. At an hour, I was just about ready to pick up something and throw it. At one hour and fifteen minutes, the adjoining door opened and a kindly-looking man stood there, eyeing me just a bit, a half-smile on his lips.

“Come in,” he said. I was barely able to rise, but followed him as he turned from the door and headed back into the room. He took his place behind a large desk, sat down, and lifted a few sheets of paper, my resume. He looked at the pages intently for a few moments, set them down and looked to me.

“We have a position. We need someone to acquire the cars, boats and planes for the show…”

I was stunned. But I kept my composure. I had no real concept of what this job meant for me.
“Yes,” is all I could think of to say. He slid his chair back, stood, held out his hand and I shook it.

“Welcome aboard,” he said. “It’s your job to get the cars, boats and planes for the show. See Tim in the production office for a script. You share the office with locations. …” He looked down and searched around his desk. He found a piece of paper and handed it to me.

“Fill this out. Take it three doors down to payroll. You’ll be making seven hundred dollars per week salary… Is that all right?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” I said.

And that was that. I have lots more details I can add and lots more anecdotes of my twenty four episode stint on the show – but suffice it to say that I was pretty nobbly-kneed and grinned from ear to ear as I left Don Gold’s office and first walked down those halls on the fourth floor of the Konover Hotel on Miami Beach.

How Did I Get Into The Business?

You just talk up stuff when you’re working on a project.

For example – I was working as Transportation Coordinator for about two weeks on location in Winter Haven, (a suburb of Orlando) on a few Sears commercials. I got to know most of the production staff and crew because when we shoot on location, we all stay in one motel or hotel and we are ALWAYS around each other.

You get to talk in the hotel bar – at the breakfast buffet – at the ice machine – meeting with the Director or Production Manager over a few beers at nine thirty at night. So, you get lots of time to just chat.

On this Sears shoot I learned that the hair and make-up lady had a contact back home in Detroit who was looking for material for a feature movie of the week and knew some investors.  I kept in touch with her for months after those commercials wrapped. The idea is that you can never know when something is going to pan out.  You must always stay in touch and always keep plugging away… keep pushing… keep trying. That’s the key.

So keep trying no matter what others tell you.
Geoff

What Was It Like Working On The Hit T.V. Show Miami Vice?

Those 24 episodes make up one of the most exciting, educational and memorable years I have lived.

Of course living in the Rockies, soloing in a plane and living in Europe were all just as cool and rewarding in their way. But to have actually been a creative and integral part of such a ground-breaking and trend-setting show brings me pride. How I got the job – and why I left – well, those are two other stories.

There are a lot of anecdotes I could go into about each episode… what it was like having to find certain vehicles, planes, and boats. What it was like working alongside teamsters and how it felt seeing the stars of the show in the hall.  What the production meetings were like and more. I’ll talk about those in future posts.

Stay tuned.
Geoff

Advice for Writers and Screenwriters That I Wish Someone Would Have Shared With Me ?

Work on as many projects as you possibly can.

Do production assistant, (gopher) work on commercials, TV shows, or films – anything that brings you closer to the nuts and bolts of the action.

If you are young and smart and have a chance for a scholarship or have well-heeled relatives then go to film school. There you will write, produce, direct and act in several films. The experience is invaluable and some of the work you produce will keep you proud for years.

If you are in school, charismatic and ambitious then you will make contacts – and contacts in the film business are vital.

Hope that helps.
Geoff