That's a Wrap, Folks!

Johnny outside the Lafayette County Courthouse in Darlington, WI on Wednesday, March 19.

I snuck out of my home office at 12:15 Thursday and headed downtown. Didn't even bother trying to resist. I found reduced crowds, antique cars, tired security guards, and Mayor Nancy Osterhaus. No one could have predicted this.

I found the real crowd behind a barricade on Ludington past the Fire Station, several blocks from the (non)action, and decided to skip the cattle call. I still remember the crowd getting restless Tuesday evening and hearing one woman yell, "Take it easy! I have a prosthetic, for Christ's sake!" The little girl in front of me tugged on her father's sleeve. "What's a persetic, daddy?" I didn't want to re-live that moment.

The Poser House, Columbus, WI

I turned and headed uphill to the Poser house, eight blocks from downtown. There I found a lot of the movie crew, setting up lighting and still adding snow to the back entrance, which was to be the "front" entrance to the "brothel." If Michael Mann's PA had read the weather report they could have saved themselves a lot of money and come back tomorrow to shoot the real thing. (Ed. note: It is now Friday and we are in the middle of a blizzard with at least 6 inches on the ground, and several more to come.) Although, as one crew member put it to the spectators on Monday, "The fake stuff looks more real, anyway." Who are we to argue with Hollywood?

Fake greens wait for direction on the front lawn.

It was now approaching 12:30. No cast or directing crew were on the hill yet. It would seem they were eating lunch. Again, something no one could have predicted.

I took a few pictures of the house before the sun moved behind it, and headed back home to work for the afternoon. On my way down, a golf cart drove up Prairie Street towards the Poser house. The mayor waved. As elusive as Johnny himself, I missed the money shot of the mayor but did stop to take a picture of the cool old house in front of which we crossed paths.

Prairie Street house eats the mayor's golf car dust

Looks like so far the mayor hasn't been invited to ride in Michael and Johnny's shiny black and gold Ford Expedition.

It's only a matter of time.

After work, I took the girls and my Kodak and climbed the hill again. I could see the police tape from blocks away, along with plenty of people to make my movie-watching experience unpleasant.

Looking up at the Poser house, on the left

Once I reached the house, I had a great view of the crew's trucks and somebody's Honda Element.

Something told me that peaking into the window of the Poser boudoir was out of the question. Every thirty seconds a squirrel would run across the street, leaving me to re-set my shoulder into its socket after Ginger yanked it out by lunging to the end of her leash. That I got any steady shots at all is a miracle. Of course, the squirrels were smart enough to use tripods.

Looked like this was going to be a wrap. People were so bored I could hear them discussing the jean jacket SodaPop was wearing. (Hey--it was chilly!) I found that even sadder than all of us standing there staring at big white trucks and orange cones with no hope whatsoever of getting a meet & greet with Mr. Depp.

That started me thinking. How many times have I woken up, opened the curtains and found hundreds of actors lined up behind police tape, waiting for a glimpse of me selling equine pharmaceuticals over the phone? I don't think I can remember a single time. And I think if I had, I would have found it extremely irritating. Stalking just isn't polite.

With that, Soda, Ginger, and I put away the camera and walked back home. We had more important things to do.

Later, Johnny.

Photo by Jen McCoy at the Portage Daily Register

Here are a few more houses on Prairie Street that make my town way more special than yours.

The Blue House, directly across the street from

The Pink House