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.
Hope can be dangerous when the path ahead is dark and uncertain
Please be patient with my site as it’s being completely remodeled
We’re all prisoners of a culture which demands that we conform
More than ever, big crisis makes me long for family to take care of
The pounding rain from the storm brought me warmth, light and love
Words of appreciation can have power to connect us and heal us
Ten years later, it hurts to know she lost faith in me and gave up
Will those on the left upset about Halliburton now go after Obama?