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.
Corrupt Trump isn’t even hiding half-billion dollar bribe anymore
Deadly sugar-filled diet choices mean slow suicide for millions
If terrorists ‘hate us for our freedom,’ U.S. politicians are their best allies
The Alien Observer: I’m not going to change — and you’re not, either
How do we intuitively see truth through the fog of perception?
Childhood programming makes it hard to believe I’m ‘good enough’
Ignorant economic reporting doesn’t help an equally ignorant public
Too many voices with little to say: Politics matters less and less to me
Christmas looks different now, but I still see joy with eyes of a child