My son has just now grasped his first two clear words… Dada, and Mama. Truth be told he’s said them both for a while, but in the last few weeks it has a lucid connection to the appropriate people. (“Dada” has been a blanket term for any male or picture of me for quite some time… now…it’s just used for me. A nice change). So it’s obvious that he can’t read yet. But I think his personal library is far larger than mine.
Like most of you, I sometimes leave the house and have to go back for something I forgot. I step back in the door, thirty seconds after I left, and my wife makes some comment about “quick trip” or “what did you forget this time” and I laugh it off as I grab the missing item.
Then, as I step back out the door I always say the same thing: “Really leaving now…”
And today those three words struck me differently.
This is an anniversary of sorts. Fourteen years ago this week I loaded my gunmetal gray Chevy Caprice and came to Los Angeles. I moved in with three guys I didn’t know, in a building across the street from my current home in Glendale.
And now, just this week, I know for sure that I’m leaving Los Angeles and I’m moving to Park City, Utah.
Some people struggle with what they believe. I generally don’t. I can support my beliefs with logical facts or experience. Personally, spiritually, professionally, I could tell you what I believe.
I struggle with Faith. “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen”.
That stuff.
My television keeps showing me events of awards and accomplishment, causing me to reflect on the state of my life. The Olympics just ended, and the Academy Awards were this evening, both offering celebrations of personal achievement and success against the odds. And I’m here to say that nothing puts a finer point on what I haven’t accomplished than getting shit on during the Oscars.
Now, I don’t mean chewed up by the Hollywood system and left unappreciated while someone stands and accepts a coveted statue.
I mean actually shit on. By a person. While trying to watch the awards.
Looking at the date, I realize it’s been almost a year since my last update on this topic.
And now, for actual certainty, I can say that “Fight or Flight” is being made. Of course, there’s a lot of days and updates and Hollywood madness in the past year. Generally, I didn’t post any of that information because so much of it was talk instead of reality.
If you’d like to start at the beginning of all this, click HERE.
I’m a child of 80s pop culture. Those were my defining years. And I’m a story teller and filmmaker, so the films from that era shaped me.
And the iconic films of the 80s were mostly made by one man, John Hughes. He died suddenly today, and in the outpouring of news articles and facebook updates I find myself once again reflecting on how much I hate our response to those who have died.
Here’s a man who shaped a decade of comedy filmmaking. And he shaped a generation of filmgoers. Yet in recent years his work has been discounted as out of date, while gross-out work like Judd Apatow and Will Ferrell has been heralded as the way comedy should be done. Click to continue »
I’m suddenly awash in blog topics, but this felt like something I should write the minute I felt inspired. No, inspired is wrong. Challenged is a better word.
I attend a gathering of Christians in the entertainment industry – an odd group who are way too liberal for “Christians” as most people think of them, and way too grounded / conservative / stupid (depending upon the person judging) for the rest of Hollywood.
I generally get something out of it, but tonight the speaker touched on something profound. Or, more specifically, profoundly sad: Click to continue »
My wife and I went and saw “UP” on opening day. In 3-D no less. And I won’t fill this entry with all the reasons why Pixar is in a class by themselves, or why they are able to avoid the story stupidity and low-brow mimicry of typical studios. Suffice to say… they know how to tell a good story.
When it was over I found myself not just thinking about “Up” or Pixar, but my personal connection to movies. More specifically… why films can make me cry. Click to continue »
When I moved to Los Angeles I had my share of nay-sayers. Some folks in influential or mentor-type roles really questioned my thinking. I was 23 years old and “following a dream”. One in particular asked me “How long do you intend to do this?”
Wanting terms and conditions. A quantifiable plan. Milestones.
I responded “How long is a dream worth chasing?” That shut them up. They had no answer for that, and I don’t think they’d ever even thought of the question.
Now, thirteen years later I don’t have an answer for it either. How long is a dream worth chasing? I find that to be the lingering query of my existence. If forced to answer I would quickly say “as long as I have breath…”
But reality does dawn… even on us dreamers. Click to continue »
