Witness… The Ick Factor

I was born on Christmas. When most people learn this, they’re automatic response is always something along the lines of, “Well, that sucks.” Let me tell you: it doesn’t. It was fine growing up and it’s fine still, even as an adult when birthdays are mostly solemn reminders of your slow trudge towards the grave (I’m great at parties). As a kid, I never cared if a present counted as both a birthday and a Christmas present. In fact, I think I was spoiled rotten when it came to gifts, as I also celebrated Hanukkah (secularly, anyway) and had a half-birthday celebration in June so that I could see my friends and get gifts from them; I swear the first part of that is what mattered the most.

In any case, as a kid, my parents and I would usually go to the same house every year for both Thanksgiving and a December 25th-all-encompassing holiday feast (sure, we called it Christmas, but there were people there from all walks of life, so I’d count it as an everything bagel). It was held by two of my dad’s best friends and their children, and my best friend and his family would also be in attendance. Needless to say, the love was always there, which means that everything I say in the intro for “The Family Falls Apart” about families always bickering and coming to near-blows is not based from experience, but rather from cliches. The closest my Christmases came to shouting matches were during Scattergories when there were disputes over the older siblings’ teams answers for some of the prompts, like when, for Body Parts starting with K, they put down “kunt,” or, for Excuses For Being Late with F, they put down “Freddy farted on Frank’s fire truck.” And truth be told, I haven’t heard many stories from friends about their families fighting. Different political and societal ideations, yes, but nothing like, say, wine-induced disownments, so maybe I just grew up in a very sheltered world where, you know, people were kind to one another. Such a novel idea!

Anyways, I guess all of this is to say that, even when taking the obviously fictionalized account of a family’s body parts falling off for no reason out of the equation, this episode isn’t based on anything I’ve personally experienced..

Well, actually, that’s not entirely true. It did come from the notion of something that happened in reality. For several years now (excluding a couple that were quarantine-ified), I’ve spent Christmas or pre-Christmas with, and this is going to sound strange, my mom’s family. I don’t mean that like, “my mom’s side of the family,” with cousins and aunts and uncles and family dogs that all share similar genetics to myself (minus the dog… hopefully…). I mean the family she, I guess, inherited when she paired up with my stepdad. I guess it would be simpler to refer to them all as my stepdad’s family. And I don’t mean to disparage anyone by calling them this, as they are my family, too. But there was a time where I avoided spending time with them at all costs. Nothing they did warranted that; it was all on me and my strange discomfort, likely spurned by the concept that it was “my mom’s family” and I didn’t have any real place in it, no matter how much they all cared about me. It’s something I’m still dealing with all these years later. I love ‘em and I enjoy seeing them, but there’s honestly this arm’s length-separation I’ve created in my head between me and them. I’m not a fan of it, but I also haven’t taken any steps to remedy it…

Phew, okay, wasn’t expecting to get all vulnerable in a blog about a story where somebody’s lips peel off like scotch tape. But fuck it; I’m leaving it in.

Anyway, what was this experience I mentioned before getting all personal? Well, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was one year after two members of this family unit had separated. I’m not privy to the details regarding any animosity between the pair at this time and I recall things being civil to the point of boiler plate, but it was still the first holiday where the two of them were no longer together and were instead co-parenting their daughter from different houses. I guess for me, a child of divorce as well, the idea of both parents being at the same holiday party was strange, as after my parents separated, my mother deemed it weird to come to that tri-family get-together I spoke of earlier, though I’m sure she was welcome (she might not agree, but I just talked about weird beliefs about feeling unwelcome, so I get it).

So the story I had in mind would have been told from the daughter’s point of view. She liked be in charge of presents, handing them out to people and making sure only one gift was opened at a time. That’s how I figured the story would start, and what would follow would be some normal, run-of-the-mill awkward family drama where everyone’s limbs stayed in tact.

But I never finished it. Hell, I barely fucking started it.

“The Family Falls Apart” in Word Doc form!

Hey, that bit about selfishness sounds familiar…

And those doubts carried over to writing the story in podcast script form. What would this damn thing be about? But then, while writing an episode for a future season with a title that was sort of a play on words, I thought, Hey. “Falls Apart.” That has two meanings!

So, there’s your genesis: good, ol’ fashioned wordplay!

Going into S3, I knew I wanted a more diverse lineup of characters and the performers who would play them. Race and ethnicity are not too prevalent when I write. I want to leave it open for anybody to play them; it’s about who I can picture in the role; whose voice I hear or emulate when jotting down dialogue. Sometimes, though, things do need to be focused and specified in order to truly have representation. I’m not saying I’ve done anything monumental, of course not. But this was my thinking when I decided to feature a Latinx family front and center for this story. I will admit some trepidation, as I am not Latinx, and therefore know nothing about the experience. But still, diversity matters, and I want this to be a podcast that features everybody, and although it can be tough because I have not walked in everybody’s shoes and don’t want to just have token characters scattered around in order to say, “See? I did good!” (and I’d be kidding myself if there wasn’t some element of that 😕), I’m still always going to try my best to include representation.

This was actually the first episode to be recorded for Season 3, taking place at the end of February 2022. Unfortunately, Will Luera, returning from last season’s “The Butler Did It,” was called in to understudy for a production of The Play That Goes Wrong, so he couldn’t make it, and Dave Garcia, an old improv friend, was also unable to attend. This meant that I would have to fill in for the roles of Angel and Pedro for this initial recording, and let me tell you, as seasoned as I am for reading my dialogue out loud to myself, having an argument as two characters for long multiple pages in front of four friends in little Zoom boxes… Well, it wasn’t weird or uncomfortable, but it was somewhat exhausting. I’m not sure why. Maybe because I had to do that and take notes on the other performances, so being in director mode while simultaneously playing two characters who go at it… Yeah, okay, it makes sense that it was exhausting.

Clockwise from left: Angela Perez (Annie), me, Leila Carrillo (Claudia), Gabe Sanchez (Nando), and Lilly Conboy (Violet).

Gabe subscribes to the old ways of acting when one has to play noseless.

Recording with Will took place the following week.

Will Luera argues with me as five other characters.

And due to those tried and true scheduling conflicts, Dave’s sesh took place 20 days later.

David Garcia tries to keep it together

as I stand in for a noseless Nando.

This episode is a good opportunity to bring up the foley work I sometimes have to do. I have my go-to websites for sound effects, but sometimes, they don’t have exactly what I’m looking for, so it’s up to me to find a way to portray things I don’t have at my disposal in a somewhat accurate way. Honestly, if I had any other dream job beyond professional screenwriter, it would be foley artists. Those folks are so goddamn creative, and every behind-the-scenes footage I’ve seen of them working looks so much fun. So while these situations are basically last ditch efforts, in a way, I kind of look forward to them. Now, most of the gory stuff in this episode came from the aforementioned sfx sites, but one noise that did come from me is something I am particularly proud of: the sound of Pedro’s fingers hitting the floor was done by dropping peanut butter pretzels onto a towel. I figured those bite-sized snacks would have the right heft of, say, a thumb, and wouldn’t you know it, but I think it works very well, and hopefully I didn’t ruin peanut butter pretzels for you by associating them with detached phalanges (they still taste good after being in character).

That last thing I want to mention before letting you go (I mean, you may have already stopped reading at this point, but I hope not) is the music. Finding non-licensed Christmas music turned out to be harder than it sounds. Obviously, the main tunes we all pretty much know by heart are in the public domain, but like I said, I primarily use two sfx sites because I trust them, while others are major unknowns for me. The problem was that their holiday song-age turned out to be considerably lacking, which is to say that I needed more ditties than they had on hand.

Then I remembered the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received. Years ago, my godparents and their children (who are essentially my brothers) surprised me with a card that had BandCamp url written inside. That url took me to something I’d never known existed: a collection of silly renditions of Xmas songs my late father had recorded before I was born, completely remastered and ready for listening. I was gobsmacked. It was such a lovely surprise. So when I was searching for holiday classics to include in the episode, that Santa-hat-wearing lightning bolt (what kind of metaphor is that???) struck me on the head. I went scrounging around for the card, which I knew I had kept, but didn’t know where. Thankfully, I found it, went to the BandCamp page, and lucky for me, the songs were downloadable. So, those extra-weird songs you hear in the background? That’s my dad. Just a cute, little Easter egg. And I mean, if I’m going to do an episode about family, might as well make that Easter egg somewhat familial, amirite?

So, at last, the stockings are hung, the milk and cookies are out, all body parts are firmly in tact, and this blog entry is over. Truly a Christmas miracle.

Happy Holidays, and see you next week.

—Andy

The wonderful card given to me by my second family.

Go ahead! Check out the BandCamp page and listen to my dad be weird!