Wetwork

Today, you can barely throw a proverbial stone without hitting a media portrayal of a law enforcement officer. They are a cornerstone of the dramatic experience, both real and imagined. But what is it like to be a real detective, when there are no cameras around to document? What is the job? What are its intricacies, complexities, and common misunderstandings. With a little help from former Detective Vance Voyles, we’re going to find out together.

 

For the first time on Wetwork we’re featuring the same subject for two episodes. Why? Because the subject is one of numerous people who do not subsist on a single profession. According to the most recently available data from the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (originating from the 2010 census) more than 7 million people, or 5% of the total work force, hold 2 or more full-time jobs. More than half of that 7 million are women. For some, juggling two jobs is just one part of a sad economic reality and is the only way to remain underemployed and not living dangerously paycheck to paycheck.

For others, like Stephen Mills, one job is subordinate to another and allows the freedom to engage in creative, artistic pursuits while still keeping the lights on. This is not uncommon in the world of the arts. In fact, it’s probably more the norm than not. I, indeed, can count myself among that group. I have a full time job that has nothing to do with writing, recording and producing a podcast. But Stephen and I have that in common, because his second profession, and the one highlighted in today’s episode, is that of The Poet. And while we’ll learn that Stephen has had pretty extraordinary success in the world of poetry, especially in a field which today is surprisingly full, rich and competitive, it doesn’t pay the bills. But like most artists who work a full time job to supplement their art, your primary source of income can inform that art and give you inspiration and ammunition. Stephen elaborates on the balance of his two primary professions and while in the last episode, entitled “The Tester & The Poet” the STI testing he performs was featured heavily, while in this episode we delve into how those experiences as a tester can both inspire his poetry and allow him the freedom to pursue it.

Find out more about Stephen Mills work and purchase his poetry collections at: http://www.stephensmills.com/

 

Produced, Written & Hosted by: Dan Lauer Produced, Recorded & Mixed by: Jonathan Giffin Recorded at: CCB Studios in Orlando, FL Episode Artwork: Kaylan Stedman   http://wetworkpodcast.com/   Wetwork's music is provided courtesy of Kevin Mcleod at Incompetech.com. Visit Incompetech.com to find the perfect music for your video or audio project. Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License. http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/
  Songs Used: "Frost Waltz (Alternate)", "Odyssey", "Intrepid", "Swimmey Texture", "Gymnopedie No. 3"
   

Ryan White was an Indiana boy who became the face of the AIDS crisis after contracting it and being expelled from school. Stephen Mills was seven at the time and also a boy in Indiana. For him, the HIV/AIDS crisis was not exemplified by gay men, but by a child with a background similar to his. For many whose formative years occurred between the early 80’s and mid 90s, HIV and AIDS had a profound effect on their coming of age.

Many didn’t witness friends dying directly, but saw the news stories, movies and witnessed fear on the faces of authority figures and friends. Many gay men in this age group still bear enormous anxiety and paranoia about sex. They have been scolded about condom use their whole lives and were taught to associate sex with danger and death. This shape of things has long been a concern for Stephen Mills. One he’s touched on both as a gay man and as a professional poet. About a year ago, Stephen got the opportunity to put that concern and interest into practice with a job opportunity as an HIV/STI tester in NYC sex venues.

Produced, Written & Hosted by: Dan Lauer Produced, Recorded & Mixed by: Jonathan Giffin Recorded at: CCB Studios in Orlando, FL Episode Artwork: Kaylan Stedman   http://wetworkpodcast.com/   Wetwork's music is provided courtesy of Kevin Mcleod at Incompetech.com. Visit Incompetech.com to find the perfect music for your video or audio project. Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License. http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/
  Songs Used: "Deep Haze", "Gymnopedie No. 3", "Ossuary 5 - Rest", "Sneaky Snitch"
   

For most of us, being face-to-face with a Funeral Director means one of two very, very unfortunate things. Either someone you love has died…or you have. Either way a Funeral Director’s services are enlisted at a time when you’d probably do anything to turn turn back the clock and avoid whatever transpired to lead to that moment. Picture a Funeral Director in your mind. It’s probably some cross between Lurch from the Addams family and Bella Lugosi. For the subject of today’s episode, that is not th

Today's episode deals with a job that no one signs up for, but nearly every American is on the hook for. Yes, I, your humble host, was called for Jury Duty. You will hear some on the scene audio of my experience as a prospective juror, my thoughts at the time and just what it’s like to sit and wait and sit and wait and sit and wait, which is mostly what being a prospective juror consists of.

What does military intelligence look and feel like in practice? Is it the room full of black suits with cigars laughing as they run the world? Or is it the modern cubicle office space and a world governed by a lumbering, clumsy bureaucracy? Retired Colonel William Millard has been in some of those rooms, seen some of those things first hand and was intimately involved in one of the most intensely debated sociopolitical issues of 21st century’s first decade. He joins us, to pull back the curtain.

In the film business there are many undervalued positions. But of the creative talent lot there is a position that sits on a tier all it’s own. In the golden age of film, screenwriting was the profession failing play writes or novelists resorted to to make a quick buck. The industry insider term for the job, at that time, was “Writing Titles” because no one believed that the screenwriter did much more than that. Max La Bella knows the harsh realities and shares some of the gory details.