Briefly

Do you remember me telling you about a couple who moved in two doors down from me just a month or so ago — and I saw them out making family pictures with children and grandchildren in their yard on Easter? I finally met them tonight while Lucy and I were out walking. They’re super nice folks, but here’s the reason I’m mentioning this. The man asked if I would mind if he cut my grass. I thought at first that he was just trying to make some money, but he didn’t want anything. He said he just enjoyed cutting grass on his riding lawn mower, so it would be a little bit of extra riding. I told him he was crazy — and they both laughed — but he’s going to start cutting it this weekend. I really do live around nice folks who treat their neighbors well. It makes me feel fortunate to know these people.

This is a day when I’d like to walk away from work for six months or a year and go make a film instead. Not necessarily as a way to get wealthy or as something to do for the rest of my life, but just to take a defined chunk of time and make something I could finish quickly. It was December 2004 when I shot my only existing short film (“We’re the Government — and You’re Not”) and it played in 20 film festivals over the next couple of years. It even won some audience favorite awards. It was a big deal to me. That short represented where I was then, but it’s nothing like what I’d make today. The YouTube version has more than 300,000 views, but the Vimeo version is better quality. As I thought about all this tonight, I pulled out scripts I’ve worked on since then and was surprised to find they were surprisingly good. I don’t really think much now about making a living this way, but I’d still like to make some art. Taking the time off to do it now is not financially feasible, but if it were even remotely possible, I would walk away today without a second thought.

As I pulled out of my driveway Monday, I glanced over at my neighbor’s yard and saw that she had dozens of bright yellow and red flowers looking gorgeous in the bright spring sunlight. I picked up my phone and called Cora as I drove so I could tell her how beautiful her yard looks today and how much I appreciate the work she’s done. I could hear the joy in her voice as she explained that she had gotten away from gardening since her husband’s death five years ago shattered her world. She said this is the first year she’s tried to get back to what she used to do — and she was proud as a peacock to have someone notice. “You have made my day, David,” she said with sincerity. The call didn’t take more than 60 seconds, but I had told her something honest that she needed to hear — and she was happy. It reminded me again that we have the power to make other people happy if we choose to care about them and express the words they need to hear. Whose day can you change today?