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.
Our methods of selling politicians seem designed for mental defectives
Constant quest for perfection leaves us confused and paralyzed
Reality frequently doesn’t match fantasy when you know full story
If you live in Hawaii and want to see my film on TV, public access is coming your way with it soon
Obsession with partisan hatred diverts you from economic truth
The right woman in a man’s life brings out the best he has to give
3 years after my father’s death, happy memories getting stronger
I felt shame for my lack of love, but God said, ‘You can do better’
California pays $205,075 to move shrub that typically sells for $16