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.
New YouTube channel launched for video versions of my essays
Anatomy of a lie: Why destroy credibility by exaggerating facts?
Collectivists think they’re doing us favors as they force herd to follow
Children’s joy and innocence pierce my heart, bring me hope
Arming teachers for safety likely to create gang that can’t shoot straight
Finding joy brings more happiness than the empty pursuit of pleasure
Party of ‘limited government’ fails when given chance to shrink state
Just give us fake, happy smiles; who wants to hear your feelings?
Tuesday’s Senate vote reminds me of German ‘Enabling Act’ of 1933