I am waiting for a job to print just now, so, unless it is horribly in need of babysitting, I am going to take this time to allow for a stroll down memory lane. Here goes...

For the last few years, I have been trying to get into the film industy in Texas. This is a bit of a challenge, since I live a hundred miles from the hub of the Texas film industry: Austin, but I felt that I could make the distance work in my favor. After all, if I am a hundred miles away, then I must be that much close than someone in say, Dallas or Lubbock, right? Additionally, I have some family, friends and contacts in the area that might help me out by providing me with temporary lodging during a film stint, should I happen to land one. After months of slogging along, emailing, faxing and phoning, I received a call from an indie film company in Austin that was about to shoot a period western on HD. The catch was that payment would be deferred until the project was sold. It sounded a bit sketchy, but I was determined to do some work on film, indie or otherwise, film or videotape. I agreed to meet with some of the production staff later that month. When I arrived, I was a bit shocked to discover that I was the oldest person there (I was thirty-one at the time, I think). Nevertheless, I listened to what the director (an actor named Jesse Petrick) had to say, and when it came time to tout my expertise, I told him that I would be of greatest use to him as a member of the camera crew. Nevermind that I had no experience with motion picture production or even with HD -- I have an affinity and a great aptitude for cameras, no matter the species. Jesse told me that he already had a camera crew lined up for the project, but that he would try to get me on the gaffer's crew. I accepted the post, hoping that I would find an opportunity to shine. When the first day of production arrived (or, rather MY first day, as I was laid up for a couple of days with a nasty case of poison ivy), I was called out by the cinematographer (Paul Wojack - sp?) because their camera crew had apparently turned up missing. He interviewed me briefly in order to determine whether it was wise to have me share the responsibility for the $200,000.00 camera that they were about to pick up. We seemed to be well-attuned to each other, and he agreed to have me as his First Camera Assistant, asking also that I bring my light meters to the set each day. I was in! I rejoiced this fact to no end as we awaited the arrival of the camera gear on the set -- Willie Nelson's ranch outside of Bee Caves, Texas. And so, for the next three weeks, I was part of an indie film crew shooting a period western somewhere in Texas. There are a few more chapters to write in there, but I'll return to that line of the story later on. With some "real" experience under my belt, I felt that I would have no trouble -- or at least, less trouble finding work in film production. After updating my resume accordingly, I set out to strike for work on "The Life of David Gale" and "The Alamo", as well as a plethora of other indie projects. No calls. Nothing at all. Not even a hit on my online resume page. I couldn't be sure that my letters and faxes arrived at the production offices, because those guys are way too busy to acknowledge anything short of an offer to bankroll the project. One day, while bemoaning the fact that I was having no luck breaking in to the film biz, my gf's sister suggested that I try out as an extra for one of the films that never called me. As luck would have it, in another week or two, there was a casting call for extras on the Alamo film in downtown Austin. I made the cut, and spent three days in December in a cow pasture during a heavy rain learning how to march and fire a musket like a Mexican soldier at $15 per day! Here is where something interesting happens. On the first day of training, I found myself praying. I was praying for guidance -- probably the most important thing that I can think of. Actually, I wasn't praying for guidance, I was praying for Guidance, and some sort of indication of whether or not I should be pursuing this project. My friend, Rusty, felt that this was going to be my big break. So, I wanted to chase down that hope, or dream. I'm on the road, like I said, the first morning of training. I have a map and instructions to not be late. I've given myself plenty of time to get there. The training ground is on a privately owned ranch near Wimberley, and I don't want to lose my bearings. There was heavy rain the night before, and it is still drizzling. Feeling a little out-of-my-element, I commence to praying that Guidance prayer. That's when the left rear tire on my car goes flat. I frantically change it, putting the temporary spare on and getting back on course. This time, I am praying for help in getting to the location. In my haste, I ignored the fact that the Guidance that I was requesting was delivered. Once the day's training was over, and I, along with everyone else who showed up was soaked and covered with a mixture of mud and manure, I got into my car to make my way to the hotel in San Marcos where I was staying. Along the way, I continued, with Guidance Prayer part II. That's about the time that the temporary spare went flat.