babinscreams

My stint in Georgia is coming to an end. And I am left with some thoughts. I was brought here to work on a movie, the latest in a series of super hero films, a franchise that's a major cash cow for a select few and the producing studio / corporation. Georgia offers huge tax incentives to film productions. And after 15 days of shooting, it's obvious the only reason to have traveled people and resources to Georgia would be to save a buck. There is not a single frame of film we exposed that could not have been captured in Los Angeles. The main set was a stretch of sandy beach here on Jekyll Island, a bridge span off the coast of Georgia. The talented greens people sunk a couple hundred palm trees into this beach, and then struggled to keep them looking like palm trees as winter temperatures dropped into the teens with wind chill. On the final days of filming, green spray paint was being administered liberally to the poor, withered fronds. We froze in abject misery  more than a c

One of the times I miss my father the most is on those occasions when I’m awe struck by technological advances in my daily living. Some of this stuff would impress the shit out of him, and I wish I could share the gee- whiz. Stuff like: Having an Iphone with Google Map into which I type a business name and within seconds am presented with driving directions starting at my current location. Logging onto the Internet and blogging while flying from Los Angeles to Atlanta – yes, that’s how these words are being etched into digital eternity. Watching streaming movies of my choice via the Internet in High Definition. In 1992, I bought a cell phone. The damn thing was the size of a brick, consisted of a handset attached by curly cable to a base. It was absurdly expensive as was the calling plan. But I’ll never forget making the first call to my parent’s home while driving in my car. The conversation was mundane and forgettable. It was the act itself, that bold step into the future that stays

"There was a man sitting in my office. He was very obese and was suffering from bad knees. At the end of our session he struggled to get out of the chair. He clearly was suffering as he got up. He noticed that I was watching him and turned to me, 'Ya know, Dan', he said. 'As tough as it was for me to get out of that chair, I look at you and say to myself, "Thank God, I can at least get out of the chair."' And I said, 'Ya know, I got to be honest with you, I look at you and how much of struggle it is to get out of that chair, and I think "Thank God, I don't have to go through that crap when I get old."' One of the first projects in my new house was to build this Gate of Gratitude . We both laughed because it's all a matter of perspective. It's all in where your 'mind lands' which determines how you experience life."

For the first time in years, I'm going on location to work. It's brief, only two weeks. I plan to stay on and see some of my relatives over the Christmas Holiday.  During my marriage, going on location was an ordeal that invariably created bad feelings. Michele didn't like my going and was not shy about letting me know. In my co-dependency,  I'd take responsibility for her ill feelings and be miserable. On top of that,  I would become engaged in "future mind" regarding the job and get anxious starting a week or so before departure. It got so that leaving was a huge relief, though I would feel great pain about leaving the kids. So, this time around,  I've succeeded in bringing that chaotic state of mind into the now, because I'm in a relationship with someone. And I  tread with fear when broaching the subject with her of work and staying through Christmas. My fear apparently confused my girlfriend; she got anxious and fearful. I then took responsibili

This fun, wonderful enterprise by a bunch of volunteers made for a glorious couple days of shooting and a few challenging weeks of editing and special effects for me.

The day after Doug's  "It's Been Six Months and  I'm Still Alive" party.  At this point he had to use an oxygen bottle to breathe. A year ago, November 29th, 2009, my best friend, Doug Wright died. My reflections on the time that has passed: A year ago today, your heart gave up resisting the inevitable; your labored breathing became silent; your restless drive to keep moving ended. A year ago today all that was Doug fractured into memory, an aspect of me that you authored, and a quality of existence that has become inseparable from all that you were. Godamnit, I miss you. You were like a warm bath of acceptance, a conductor of life’s travelogue, an elixir that offered delight and laughter with every sip. Wherever “Doug” is now, if you are able to ingest these words, know that I’m doing just fine. Each day I try to let go of memory and all that ties me to time. I work to accept our relationship as it is now, to remain in acceptance, so that I