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.
Lesson from U2: Rejection doesn’t necessarily mean it’s time to give up
What will you do when ‘electing the right people’ doesn’t change things?
If you participate in sham of voting, you’re responsible for what it creates
I’m not sure what’s left to say about politics, so here’s a picture of a cat
Utah man turns newspaper obituary into insightful, funny confessional
Why do we stay in prison when there’s no lock holding us there?
Fear of intimacy causes confused people to run from love they need
Arrogance and stupidity go hand in hand for the coercive state