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.
Reaction to Penn State scandal shows danger of putting leaders on pedestal
Maybe looming defense cuts mean U.S. has to quit invading countries
I haven’t learned to stop walking on eggshells around angry people
THE McELROY ZOO: Meet Sonny, a sweet boy who needs a home
Some of us feel rage at authority, even as disobedience can hurt us
Why is it so hard to make good art? It’s something I’ll never understand
Parent has to realize a child isn’t just miniature version of himself
For good or bad, we default back to what feels most familiar to us
World is a surreal alien landscape where nothing makes sense to me