Lawrence of America Blog Tag Feed for 'travel channel'

Country Music Episode

Lawrence — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 14:49:09 -0500

So, this is the blog I've been dreading to write because this episode, filmed in Nashville, Tennessee, shows me at my most vulnerable, and possibly unprofessional. The global correspondents code of ethics makes it quite clear a reporter of my stature should never get romantically involved with a subject being investigated. No, I'm sorry, I just re-read the sacred cocktail napkin, and it says one should never let the audience know you're romantically involved with a subject. Even though Rebecca Lynn Howard and I were never actually romantically involved, I still feel I let my truth guard down. I'll admit, I was caught under her spell of loveliness. Her beautiful hair, her adorably southern accent, her tempting bosum all distracted me. Mostly the tempting bosum … but her hair was nice.

And then when she rejected my advances, I took it far too personally, and let it affect the rest of the episode. In hindsight, she did me a favor by ripping my heart from it's chest cavity then running it over in her car, scooping the flattened remains into a blender and pouring the bloody goo into the sewer. I mean, imagine if we'd become romantically attached? She's a singer in Tennessee, I'm a man of the world. All we could've hoped to look forward to were a series of torrid, passionate hotel room encounters in various exotic cities. I'm going to change the subject now - the tears are making it hard to type.

Crystal Gayle was amazing. She's a petite, warm, friendly woman with a great deal of hair. When one is with her, you can feel the charm, charisma and success glowing from her. The two of us together was like a charisma sun and with all that reflective crystal around - it made it tough for the crew. By the way, they didn't close the shop while we filmed, and we were right inside the door. So a couple of times we had to stop for bewildered customers.

The Grand Ole Opry was another interesting experience. Hanging around backstage was special - surrounded by the memories, and the ghosts of classic country singers I'd never heard of. But it's a sacred place and I was honored to be there.

I want to say a big thank you to all in Nashville, especially Aaron Tippen, who's segment did not make the final TV show, but is here on this website. We were very grateful for the time he gave us and his wonderful honesty. But I can't end without a final comment about Ms. Lynn Howard. Rebecca, thank you for casting me aside like yesterday's used kitty litter. Whilst I may not have realized it at the time, I now know you did it to protect yourself. You knew I was a man already romantically involved … with the truth. And whilst she doesn't have your bosoms … or nice hair … I am her faithful and committed partner, and to try and get in between us would only bring heartache, pain, and misery. But if you change your mind … give me a call. Please. And if you're reading this and not named Rebecca Lynn Howard - then leave me a comment - I dare you.

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Utah Winter Athletes Episode

Lawrence — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 14:41:05 -0500

Hello all. Intrepid Englishman here with more tales from behind-the-scenes of my show … which by the way is now eligible for any awards you may want to bestow. So, Utah Winter Athletes. Well, as you'll see in the show, I went to the high altitude expecting snow. Alas, I was disappointed. My dreams of tapping into American spirituality, by uncovering the truth about something called "snow angels" was dashed. Now, I may never know if they're similar to the real angels that float above my bed as I sleep … or more like Hell's Angels. Anyway, despite my crushing sorrow, I managed to pull myself together and find some pretty interesting folk to chat with.
Shannon Bahrke was probably my favorite. No disrespect to Derek Parra, and the delightful yet completely insane Lugers, or the Curlers, but Shannon let me hold her Olympic silver medal. I have to go with people who let me fondle their silverware - it's an English tradition.
But I will say Shannon worked me hard. As you may know, my one weakness is a small, paralyzing fear of heights. So standing at the top of that dirt hill near her home, and watching her jump down it with a total lack of regard for her personal safety was … well … scary. The other bits - the running and jumping, and the trampolining were more fun - if very tiring. High altitude didn't agree with me … or some of the crew. My producer in particular complained constantly about being dizzy, or dehydrated, or tired, etc, etc. I still don't really know what these people do to earn their living - but all global correspondents have them, so I do too. He did fetch water, and deal with the fans, so I suppose it was worthwhile.

Here's a secret - after we finished with the trampolines, we went back the next day for "more shots". Yes, we needed it - I think. But it was really an excuse for some additional foam pit time. Jumping into that giant pit of foam was extremely fun. Getting out was almost impossible. It's like a foamy quicksand. The more you kick and fight, the deeper you sink. Only our sound man with the frame of a calcium deficient sparrow was able to float above it and haul himself out.

Thanks must go to everyone in the Park City area. The folks at the Olympic Park were delightful, as were the mad Lugers. Watching human beings whiz past on an ice wall at top speed is a lasting memory. Unbelievably dangerous sport … and my brief taste is all I will ever need, thank you very much.

Thanks also to Gold medalist Derek Parra. For someone who has achieved so much, he was remarkably nice, friendly and helpful. Although, I fear I will never be an Olympic speedskater. It was far, far, far too painful on my legs. Which is a shame, because I really look good in that gold body suit. Don't worry though, I still have it and wear it out to dinner, to the movies, and doing household chores. Actually, I don't do household chores anymore … I have a producer for that.

To see me in my Gold skin tight beauty - watch the show - and feel free to tell me how good I look by leaving a comment.

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Fashion Episode

Lawrence — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 07:39:39 -0500

Hello again. Thanks for reading. I mean this blog, not the fact you know how to read -although if you didn't know, you wouldn't be able to read this so I guess it applies.

Fashion in New York City was one of the most difficult shoots in the entire series. Something happened here that didn't happen for the rest of the entire series. No. The cameraman got drunk every night. No, the producer did too. No, the soundman was arrested in several other cities as well. In New York City … it rained. Now usually, rain isn't a problem. Certainly not for me. I'm English. It rains every single day in Britain, everywhere. That's why the Wimbledon Tennis Tournament takes three months.

But for us in New York, the rain, which came in the form of some type of deluge, drowned out the fashion show we were scheduled to film. There I was, about two hours away from arriving , putting on my makeup and strapping up my reporterly credentials when we got the call. The whole evening's festivities had been called off.

The show was planned to take place in an old factory by the river and apparently water flooded the place. Models as you know have a tough time walking in a straight line with their hips jutting out as they do when it's dry, so doing it on a wet runway seemed like certain disaster. Well that's what they told me when I suggested they suck it up because I was coming.

So we had to wait 24 hours for the second night, which had less designers, less models, and a smaller crowd. As you can see in the show, I think I made the best of it but it was really the only scheduled event that fell through during my entire cross country journey.

The bad weather also affected my "photo shoot." The industrial wasteland chosen was not my first choice but it was the only place that was undercover. The designers didn't want their creations soaked while being worn by me. Nor did they let me take them home. Unless I paid for them. Clearly someone hasn't told them about the modern journalism code of ethics.

Thanks to everyone at "Love Brigade." I really hope your label becomes gigantic. In popularity, I don't mean I hope you only make clothes for the obese. Unless you decide to price your clothes by the yard … in which case good luck.

Thanks also to our lovely model friend who let me into her home. In case you're wondering that was indeed her actual apartment. I hope the camera shows just how tiny it was. When I say tiny, I mean really, really small. Smaller than the basement of mother's boyfriends who used to lock me in when he wanted to take her to Spain for the week. Don't worry … he left me food and water all within reach of my leash.

New York is a wonderful City - apart from the rain. And the people were by far the easiest to talk to on the street. I had no idea such a small patch of land could sustain so many human beings, so many hot dog stands, and so many differing views of the world and sport, politics, or whether the sky is blue … truly remarkable.

Anyway - don't forget to watch this and all other episodes of "Lawrence of America" and if you're still reading this could you do me a favor and leave a comment? Journalists of my caliber need feedback - it's like an addiction. Don't worry, I read everything personally - no minion to spell out the big words for me. Not anymore.

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Hollywood Episode

Lawrence — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 07:31:51 -0500

Greetings loyal viewer and/or reader - LBS here with another peak under the skirt of my series.

This week sees me venture into the heart of Hollywood. It was an interesting place - actually "Hollywood" the location is quite grimy, and almost completely devoid of anything related to the movie business. But there are quite a few tourists, homeless people, and men dressed in tiny skirts, big wigs and high heels acting as cultural ambassadors to tourists driving past in their cars -usually at night. I thought that was very friendly of them. Not sure why they needed to dress like women though. Must be a Californian thing.

Anyway - plunging into the heart of a primetime drama series - "Numb3ers" was fascinating. I never knew walking could be so complex. All I had to do was stride past the main characters who were busy saying their lines - and look FBI-ey. Sounds easy - I mean I've been walking for years. But I felt strangely self-conscious. But I think the final cut shows I did a pretty fine job. I believe I'm on screen for a combined total of 1.5 seconds. And to think my boarding school drama teacher's final report used the words "completely useless" when describing my acting talent. Who's laughing now Mister Steinlich? Not you - hopefully.
The other thing I noticed about the big TV location was the sheer volume of humanity. There were literally hundreds of people milling about. All to produce one hour of television. Just so you know - we produce half an hour of high quality programming for the very nice and extremely handsome folks at the Travel Channel - with a field crew of five. Yes, five. It shows what can be done when you use talented professionals and when you lack decent representation in contract negotiations.

I would like to send a hearty thanks to all the many people on that television program for their openness and kindness. Especially that actor chap David Krumholz. There aren't many stars who'll let me smell their hair. Believe me - I know.

Thanks also to the very kind stunt woman Kathy Jarvis for allowing me to hit her with a chair, and push her down a flight of stairs. May I also declare with all due respect you have a job I don't want. All the pain, and little of the credit - not something I'm bred for really. In television journalism hey call that person a "producer;" have to be stark raving mad to want that job. No - it's the globe trotting celebrity journalist life for me. Some lights can't be hidden under a bushel and mine is one of them.

Remember, you can watch my shining light, and the rest of me on my TV show. So keep watching. And feel free to leave your opinions here after reading. I like reading what you have to say. Really I do. So does Mother - who still isn't convinced this program actually exists.

Cheerio.

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NASA Episode

Lawrence — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 14:54:59 -0500

NASA - my most personal episode. Well, except for the Country Music disaster … but that's next week. I proved Space travel occurs, and is very scary. Being out at that launch pad convinced me. Those rockets are real, and quite powerful. Can you imagine having a car that could go from zero to seventeen thousand miles an hour in eight minutes? Why can't they strap a couple of those things to commercial jets? I could commute from London, pop home for lunch and help Mother with her evening ingrown hair inspection. It would be very handy. But alas NASA only keeps them for space travel … for now. I enjoyed NASA very much - and the government workers could not have been more accommodating. I did not feel for one second they were hiding any giant, alien-filled conspiracy. Which was a relief really.

Imagine if our gracious host had accidentally driven us into the wrong hangar, and there was a giant film set looking like the moon, or a family of creatures preserved in green goo. Awkward moment I'd say. The weekend rocket enthusiasts were also a delight. Can't say the same for the location. Where all the tents were gathered was fine - but when we ventured off to collect our friend's rocket after it's successful flight into … a few thousand feet of air … we ended up in a swamp-like setting. Now the humidity, the boiling sun, and the soft, mushy ground underfoot were all fine. I'm not only a seasoned reporter, but also an Englishman. Mushy is my middle name. But the mosquitoes were unbearable. These weren't your average little annoyances … oh no - they were about the size of your head, and ravenous. They blocked out the sun, such was their number - swooping down and attaching themselves to major arteries before moving on to the next victim. We couldn't show much of that footage - because no one could stay still for more than a second before violently swatting one of the three million hungry airborne monsters. I would like to say we came prepared. And in fact we had bought bucketfuls of repellant - which was waiting for us when we returned to our motel by the freeway. I did manage to capture one of the beasts. It's now in my house, stuffed and mounted above my fireplace. Well it will be … as soon as I have a fireplace. Or a house. Thanks to all for their generous assistance. I may have failed to become an astronaut - it's actually quite hard - but I succeeded in becoming a fan of the whole space thing. I have to say standing underneath a vehicle that has orbited the Earth is one of my personal highlights. That and not vomiting on camera in that awful spinning horror machine. Until next time.

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College Life Episode

Lawrence — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 14:53:54 -0500

Hello again. Global trutherist here. Time for more reminisces about my travels around this large brown and green land.

What can I say about my time at the University of Georgia? Well, I discovered college life is much more fun here than it ever was at Cambridge … Polytechnic. That's a Technical college on the outskirts of Cambridge by the way. I decided not to waste my time with law, or medicine at the more famous local university. I knew, even at age 18, I was only ever going to be a reporter … or a dentist. Far too much reading involved in law. And Dentistry as it turns out.

Anyway - Southern U.S. colleges are amazing. Drenched in history, traditions and young people. Our excursion around the dormitory was particularly memorable. For a start, I felt really old. And the obsession with video games I never really understood. Groups of young men would gather for hours at a time in a darkened room - when there were eligible young women sleeping one floor above and below. Is it just me, or is there something a tad strange with that picture? If there had been girls in my dormitory at Boarding School … well … then things would've been much more interesting, especially on "Spanking Sundays."

I digress. The dormitory was fascinating, and thank you to a lovely lady named "Mo" for being such a good sport. Alas her performance did not make the program - but for all of us there, we shall never forget it.

The whole College Football experience was utterly bewildering. So many people, so much red and black. I can report I was actually a little woozy by the end of the day - I believe it was the constant visual bombardment of only two colors. I'm sure the four hot dogs, and half of that loaf of bread stuffed with ham and chicken, then smeared with cream cheese had nothing to do with it.

I would like to learn more about the actual game. But I'm not sure if anybody actually understands the rules … or wants to. It seems very complicated, and I'm really not sure why it needs to be. And the staggering degree of attention it generates is remarkable. If two universities played each other in Britain, you'd get four people attending, and two of them would've gotten lost on their way to the pub. Unless it's rowing, which is much more boring than football. And damp. I will save the story of my rowing adventures for another day, and another blog. I believe the gag order has yet to be lifted.

Cheerio.

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