Just a happy, pleasing video designed to bring you the feeling of being somewhere, without quick cuts or commentary: Like I did for my drive through South Dakota’s Badlands, I shot a ride on the Angels Flight railway in downtown Los Angeles.

Most people don’t know that downtown Los Angeles is steep in places, and this funicular was constructed in 1901 to haul locals up Bunker Hill, which is now the heart of the city but then had some pretty mansions. It’s only 298 feet long (although its historic plaque, installed before the railway was moved slightly south, gives the old length of 315 feet—and adds an apostrophe for “Angel’s”). That it managed to survive at all is a miracle, but the ride has been bumpy. It started as transportation in a residential district, as did Pittsburgh’s Monongahela and Duquesne inclines, which are also still in operation.

It was later engulfed in stone skyscrapers, followed by dismantling, storage, a move slightly south, and a period of benign neglect that climaxed when one of the trolley cars disregarded its brakes, hurtled downhill, and crushed someone. This video was shot 15 days after it re-opened following a nine-year closure and refit. The locals were curious and not a little bit nervous.

Downtown L.A. is actually one of my favorite places. It’s bizarre to me that an entire city, one that is about the size of Chicago’s Loop, would be pretty much abandoned, as L.A. was in the 1940s. The whites went west and left it to the incoming Mexicans. What remains is a fascinating mix of the untouched and the decimated. Part of the city is a stately example of incredible American wealth in the years between the San Francisco Quake and World War II. And part of the city is parking lots. Downtown Los Angeles lost the thread of what its personality was. Angelenos are figuring it out.

Citizens of Beverly Hills, perhaps regretting the white flight that abandoned the Angels Flight, installed this plaque in its old location. They wrongly made its name possessive, too.

 

This video of Badlands National Park in South Dakota is seductive. It’s a nearly four-minute, uninterrupted shot of the driver’s view as he travels east on Badlands Loop Road (240) as it prepares to intersect with 377 near Interior, South Dakota.

Turn up the music and go full-screen and it’s almost like being there. The sunlight is perfect. The colors of the stone and the sky are rich and true.

I should know. I shot it. And it’s a high-def video, so it took me about six hours to upload onto YouTube.

If you want to try this drive at home, here’s where it begins on Google Maps. Then head east.

 

I love shooting these on-the-fly, you-are-there snippets when I travel. Click here to see one I shot in Tokyo that has more than 1,000,000 views on YouTube now.

 

That day, I was sick as a dog. I should have been in bed. But how often am I in Tokyo?

So I walked everywhere I could. I was in the neighborhood of Shibuya, crossing in an overpass, when I saw something that astonished me.

I whipped out my junky little Canon Powershot A95 (with the swivel screen) and waited for it to happen again. This is what I recorded and uploaded to my non-personal YouTube account. It has now racked up 1,011,000 views, and it shows no signs of slowing down.

This simple little YouTube video of wonderment — sarcasm-free, no trendy jump cuts — still astonishes me. And so does the fact that it thrills so many people across the world.

Capture all you can.

My regular YouTube account is bastablejc.

 

I visited the Minnesota State Fair in St. Paul and thinking of you, of course, I had my camera with me. I created this kind cool, kinda quiltlike portrait of what it’s like to go, with a special emphasis on all the many foods on a stick you can find there.

And, oh yes, there are a lot. Too many, as you’ll see.

There’s even a special appearance by Garrison Keillor, who himself makes an annual special appearance at the Fair with this Prairie Home Companion broadcast.

I think the whole thing is really cool.

 
Jason Cochran at the World's Longest Yard Sale

Me with the jackalope in its only natural habitat

I traveled to rural Tennessee to cover a uniquely American shopping experience: a yard sale, annually held over the first weekend in early August, that spans some 675 miles of one highway. It’s called, not undeservedly, the World’s Longest Yard Sale.

We can feel comfortable that the Chinese are unlikely to covet this world record and swipe it from us, partly because they made most of the junk for sale at this one.

These funny short segments star the Tennessee locals, me, and one of the loudest jungle shirts known to mankind.

No, I did not pick it up at the yard sale. Yes, I think I risk turning into Al Roker.

Three videos emerged from the mayhem. The first one’s a panorama of the scene. What I say at 1:29 of that one sums up how I feel about this phenomenon.

The second focuses on smart tips for every rummage sale shopper. The woman who ran the booth I’m shooting in at 1:06 got really hacked off about what I said. She overheard me and thought I was talking about her (I wasn’t) and came in for the kill right as I finished my line. My videographer and I high-tailed it out of there — much like a jackalope might, I surmise, when a careless price tag-bearing granny unboxes it — as soon as the take was done.

I especially love the gag at :44. Thank the talented editor Matt Crum for the punch of that one. His collaborator in this silliness was videographer James Houk — hire him, because he caught a lot of brilliant shots and did it in extremely trying, sweat-soaked circumstances. (Love the dinosaur peeking out of the box!)

Finally comes the third one. I particularly like the part where I sell the guy his own knives and the geezer, at :40, who seemed to relish his on-camera debut. Also loved my weird use of the word “ire” in conversation with a game bric-a-brac vendor. And his witty touché about being pretty or being nice.

Jason Cochran at the World's Longest Yard sale

Cheapskate camouflage: Can you distinguish my wardrobe from the other tacky crap?

Yes, I had a total blast. Can’t you tell? I mean, the shirt pretty much screams “are we having fun yet?”

Screams in the bloodcurdling sense.

 
Jason Cochran on the Shark Tank set

Cameraphone moment behind the Shark Tank chairs as Aldo Orta prepares to deliver his pitch for his jewelry line. Entrepreneurs are shown their marks but are not permitted to speak to the Sharks until the pitch begins.

Visiting TV sets is always a thrill. It’s not because I am a pure fan. I mean, I am not necessarily always pinching myself in disbelief over being there. Of course I knew Chandler and Joey’s apartment was an existing set when I toured the home of Friends at Warner Bros.

No, for me, the thrill is strangely historical. Just as I love going to Westminster Abbey, where kings and queens from the storybooks still lie, I get excited to be in a place that I previously knew only as an image or a symbol. It’s where received information clicks into reality.

That’s the way it was when I was on the Shark Tank set. It’s always a mind-twist to see how the shapes and distances and perspectives that you see on television are so different in the flesh. It’s odd to see how a room you thought was so familiar in fact does not feel the way you thought it would. First, of all, it has no ceiling other than the industrial soundstage ceiling, many feet above. It’s also a good reality check to see how a good TV set operates no different from a set in a community theatre production — it just takes a lot more money to design and build.

And more than anything, I love the heritage of the soundstages. Look up at Sony Pictures Studios, which used to be MGM, and staring back at you are wooden rafters that were silent witnesses to some of the world’s most recognized performances and faces. Even the dust is historic there, and unlikely to have been swept away. The soundstage in which the Shark Tank crew and cast ate lunch one day was the same one in which Flying Monkeys were filmed in The Wizard of Oz. “Singin’ in the Rain” was shot on Stage 27. Name a famous MGM movie, and those aged soundstages, so hollow most of the time, were where they happened, shot by shot.

They are the warehouses from which our American culture was shipped to us.

From a historic perspective, that’s a very intense thing to hold onto. Everything you see on camera has to happen somewhere, but when it comes to movies, we tend to accept that they’re in a spatial limbo. Yet cameras captured something that happened on that very spot, and afterward, every sign of the event was cleared away, leaving the soundstage as a shell. It’s the only thing left to witness those vital moments of American history.

Just being in that place, for me, makes The Wizard of Oz true. Not a story that happened, of course, but a thing that was cared about and created and hammered out, shot by shot and minute by minute, by working people who got hungry and sweat and yelled and got stuck in traffic on the way home. Movies become records of real events (of fabricated scenarios) that happened to be snatched in seconds-long increments. Being in a studio brings me out of the mindset of a consumer and irresistibly into connection with the people of the past.

Shark Tank‘s second season was shot on stage 22, and its “holding” room for entrepreneurs was built in Stage 8 (which means that when you see someone stewing ahead of their appearance, they’re not actually in the same stage; when the time comes, they have to run outside, across a lane, and into Stage 22.) My time roaming the soundstage was among my favorite during my season two shoots.

 

"Mr. Wonderful" is appraising you for your dollar value

In between pitches for the second season of Shark Tank, I snatched a few minutes of time with Kevin O’Leary while the other Sharks were getting made up.

Kevin O’Leary is precise. He’s ruthless. He’s mercilessly to-the-point. And that’s just his sound bites! In the Shark Tank, he’s like that, too, but with the added focus on wresting control from any entrepreneur foolish enough to let go of it. If you’ve ever seen him in action, you know by his razor tongue that he’s no one to be trifled with. Money is his schtick, but it’s also his obsession. He didn’t become a billionaire merely from being quick with the quips.

In our chat, O’Leary gives his advice for making money when you don’t have the luxury of starting with any.

 

 

True story: Daymond John saw this and tweeted, "I tried to watch...but Kevin O'Leary's bald head was so damn shiny! I had to throw sand on the screen to kill the glare!" My head is cropped out, so it must be true.

After I interviewed Shark Tank Sharks Kevin O’Leary and Robert Herjavec (click here to watch that interview, which dates from my Traffic Cone Professor sartorial period), a debate emerged in the comments section. The two also appear on the older, Canadian version of ABC’s fish-themed angel investor show, Dragon’s Den, and the bickering began: Which show is better?

Judging by the comments, you’d think Dragon’s Den has the edge, but the numbers probably aren’t representative. After all, Canadians are more likely to be vocal about their preferences since American culture has a way of dominating North America. They’ve got to be louder than the Americans when a comparison is at stake or else they risk not being heard at all.

O’Leary and Herjavec think the crucial difference between the two shows has a lot to do with that imbalance. After all, they’re business, and they think in terms of market potential:

 

Those with an inattention to detail might think that Barbara Corcoran and I are related, but there’s no mistaking the fact that I love her. Outrageous, conservative, tough as nails yet soft as pudding, simultaneously fearless and sensitive — she’s diverse and memorable. I’ve interviewed her several times before, including in her office and at a satellite media tour. I was even her fifth wheel/Ed McMahon in a miniseries of self-help video segments we did for a website I once worked for.

Here, we chat on the set of ABC’s Shark Tank in between pitches.

Fans of Barbara ( like me) can double up with this video of her, made on a different day of the Season Two shoots, describing her successful investments from the first season of Shark Tank.

Sigh.

Cochran and Corcoran
 

Jeff Foxworthy and me: Hapeville-made

This season on Shark Tank, two new men join the lineup of Sharks: Mark Cuban and Jeff Foxworthy, both of whom rotate in Kevin Harrington’s chair when he’s not there.

I met Foxworthy, who hosts another of producer Mark Burnett’s shows, Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?, at the dawn of his first day on his new job. I learned a couple of interesting things when I did my pre-shoot homework. One is that he lived in the same town that my grandparents did: Hapeville, Georgia. (I wonder if he used to go to the Richway, like I did.) The other is that 25 years ago, his job was to maintain mainframe IBM computers.

As it happens, I realized, fellow Shark Robert Herjavec, who immigrated to Canada from Croatia as a kid, got his beginnings selling IBM mainframe computers during the same period. It’s hard to get a scoop in the over-covered entertainment universe, but I was pretty proud of finding that one. You can see Robert Herjavec learning about it for the first time on yesterday’s video interview with him.

By the time I met Foxworthy, the next day, Herjavec had already filled him in on their shared origins in the make-up room. Took my scoop and used it to make a fast buddy! If they go in on a business together during the second season of Shark Tank, I’d like to think I brokered the friendship between them that allowed it all to happen. Hey, Robert — it’s on camera.

Some people may wonder what a stand-up comic such as Foxworthy is doing on a panel of self-made titans, but that’s where they’re wrong. As I pointed out when the casting was first announced, Foxworthy has created a multi-milliondollar merchandise franchise out of his personal brand.

He’s certainly canny, and a dark horse among Sharks, but does he have the teeth to hang with his flesh-eating colleagues? You be the judge:

Backtrack!

February 2012
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