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.
2-day-old baby reminds me that miracles still happen every day
‘Don’t ever be afraid to turn page,’ but leaving comfort zone is scary
Silly controversy over Cadillac ad reminds us we want different things
The child in me never learned to feel at home as part of a group
‘Black vs. white’ thinking causes confusion without shades of gray
Sometimes you’re not ready for a challenge, but you do it anyway
Irony: Libyan rebels now rounding up blacks, sticking them into jails
My mother was more impressive than my father led me to believe
AUDIO: Finding meaning, true self requires rejection of your culture