There’s a building not far from my house that takes me back to December of 2004 each time I drive past. It’s not a good memory, but rather one that still gives me shivers eight and a half years later.
It’s the memory of a night I suddenly couldn’t remember what I was doing and freaked out as I tried to do my job.
We were close to finishing the first day of shooting for my short film, “We’re the Government — and You’re Not.” Even though I didn’t really know what I was doing, I was the writer and director, and I was sharing the producer duties. I honestly didn’t know until that day just how little I knew.
Even though the day had been a blur, things had generally gone well except for my car having a flat tire at the next-to-last shooting location of the day. (I rode around on the little “doughnut spare” all weekend because I didn’t have time to fix the tire.) I was waiting for one last prop to come in the mail. It was days late, but we thought it would be there. I ran to my house and it wasn’t there — and it was time to shoot the scene. I didn’t have a back-up plan.
Modern life doesn’t have to be as complicated as we try to make it
I wasn’t allowed to express need, so I’ve spent life traveling alone
What if I hadn’t been afraid to follow Paul Finebaum’s advice 20 years ago?
Can we find way to separate love of home from worship of state?
Santa checked his list twice — and some of you’ve been naughty
Just underneath a civilized veneer, savage conqueror lives in my DNA
FDA’s war on margarine is really an attack on your freedom of choice
We can’t defeat the existing system; we must build a better one instead