To the Music Man on Walkie, Stop.
We’ve all heard it on set. End of day, AD calls wrap, and over the walkie talkie you hear a faint sound of music playing. Music over the walkie talkie. Music everyone can hear.
Please, fucking stop.
You can pretty much assume it’s a classic song, something by ACDC or Wilson Phillips, that bleeds into your headset, echoes through the motor home, and calls out to the thirty, uninterested people left on set who don’t care about your music choice as much as they’re just annoyed.
Sure, it’s funny. Yeah, it’s clever. But just stop.
At best, you get PA friend who’s near you to chuckle, but the remaining people who are forced to listen to your poor attempt at humor don’t care because they’re wrapping. And while they are slugging shit back to the trucks, you’re pressing that cellphone against the walkie thinking your Tiesto instead of breaking down video village.
So, stop. Help us wrap. Let’s get out of here.
And this has nothing to do with ACDC or Wilson Phillips. We can leave them out of it. It’s you. ADCD and the Phillips sisters would agree because you’re playing their music that no one wants to hear at that moment. “But people love it when I do it!” No, you love it. And you've convinced yourself that others do, but I’m here to tell you...we don’t.
So stop.
We’re down to see your live show at the Whiskey Go-Go. We’re down to go to a film festival for your shitty short film. We’re even down to hit your improv show and tell you how great it was afterwards as those are creative endeavorswe can get behind. But you playing the faint sound of some great song over a walkie at the end of the day doesn’t tickle. It’s just dumb.
So stop Music Man. For all of us. And make that short film. We’re dying to see it.
Peter Anderson