The One Where I Blame Wimpy For America's Credit Problem
by Paul (0 Comments) 
There's a great article over at Slate.com about a new revolutionary economic tactic, using cash rather than credit, to purchase our goods and services. The Death of the Credit Card Economy. The swinging pendulum of actions and reactions is obviously swinging back the other way. Where once lending companies were essentially giving away money (at an enormous annual percentage rate), feeding our need to get what we want immediately, now those same lenders are tighter than ... well, you fill in the blank.
The article articulates very well the pattern and progress of our borrow, borrow borrow mentality and the obvious downfall of that fake economy (yet somehow, none of us believed it would ever come). I expect things to get much much worse, in terms of cost of living, housing foreclosures and economic strains over the next 5 years (regardless of who becomes our next president).
I blame Wimpy.
there is hope, my daydream child
by Paul (7 Comments)
So here we our -- my bride, my wife -- facing another hope. Another child. A third. Another laugh, another voice, another part of our story. Sunshine and a ray. Hints of excitement and anticipation; but only hints. And left lingering is that crush and burst, that pain of hope unrealized. 9 weeks. Fingers crossed. Hope lingering, yet docked on the bay, waiting for assurance.
But still hope.
You can't really make a film in 48 hours, can you?
by Paul (6 Comments)
Apparently you can. And I just took part in making one. But let me backtrack.
If you're unaware of what the 48 Hour Film Project is, here's a quick synopsis. Teams compete, city to city, and internationally to create a 4 to 7 minute film in under 48 hours. If that weren't challenge enough, each team is given a random genre (comedy, western, historical/period, holiday film, drama, horror, thriller, etc); as well as a character name, a specific line and another add on such as a certain prop -- to eliminate the chance of any pre-filming or writing, and all music must be original or public domain.
Last Friday I drove down to Nashville to take part in all the excitement. Right after getting to Shawn's house, Mark, Shawn and I started to rattle around ideas for stories, while eating pizza. Sometime around 7:30pm Bobby texted with the genre (we got drama), the name (Rob Hatch), the prop - or in this case an occupation (Security Adviser), and line ("My brother had one just like that"). The entire team then arrived and we had a group brainstorm -- discussing drama's we enjoyed, themes we could employ, anything and everything under the sun. Anything from a Hollywood murder drama about a train-wreck film whose producers decide to kill (literally) the main actor to gain attention and sympathy and recoup their budget; to a conceptual piece on Pacifism; to a single shot cry-fest about a husband and wife waiting for terrible news.
Sometime around midnight we finalized on an idea and began writing furiously till around 4:30am. After a quiet 2 hour "sleep" we (Shawn and I, and Mark who lives next door to Shawn) we headed to Sonic for intestinal awakening and headed to our yet observed setting. An 70's ranch house in suburban Brentwood -- which turned out to be magical, and mostly because it was large, and had a pool. After seeing the setting we revised the script to more clearly represent and accentuate the house. We assigned roles and characters to our actors (of which I got a nice little role, and did my best not to embarrass the family name).
At 10am we began to film -- revised scripts and lines, drank water, sweated, consumed far too many pastries (well, I did at least, for the character), set up the camera and lights; moved the camera and lights and wrapped up final shooting around 10:00pm (and took another hour of clean up and packing).
A group of us (me, Shawn, Mark and Bobby) headed to the offices of ICG Link to begin the editing and scoring of the film (and by "us", I mean Bobby because he was the only one of us who knew Final Cut Pro). The editing, cutting, reviewing and finalizing of the film -- including the amazing score by John Marshall -- wrapped up at 6:30pm; a scant half hour before ALL the films had to be in the hands of the 48 Hour judging team (or whatever they were). We reviewed the final film -- and noticed an issue; about 10 seconds of black screen (which was not supposed to be there). Bobby quickly went to work while Shawn and I headed to turn in whatever we had -- hoping for a dramatic switch-a-roo moment. I entered a small cafe/bar at 6:57pm and turned in our paperwork (releases, legalese, and our "final" DVD).
And that's the story of how we made "Disconnect The Dots".
Sadly, I can't show you the final movie (yet) -- not until the final judging has taken place on August 5th (though, if you speak to me directly, I might see what I can do).
Apparently his dog doesn't deserve to live?
by Paul (10 Comments)
Ohio got it into its dumb skull that a certain type of dog needs to be eradicated -- regardless of its true disposition or even public record. House Bill 568 is a ridiculous bill that seems to at best not understand dog behavior and breed versus human responsibility (for training, rearing and care of an animals overall temperament). Essentially the bill gives carte blanche to anyone who sees a dog acting aggressively toward someone (What about all those small annoying rat dog breeds that bite, growl and are VERY aggressive toward people -- they're just small, but far more vicious in terms of disposition -- should we kill them too?).
Sirius (pictured above) looks to many people like a pit bull -- though more precisely, to us he looks like a blend of a Labrador and Staffordshire Bull Terrier. As you can see in the picture he's harmless. Is he protective -- hell yes. Is he territorial -- yup. Does he growl and bark at strangers -- yes, just like a Golden Retriever, Labrador, or any dog in general -- dogs are territorial by their species; not breed. The fact that he looks scary (according to the bills logic) by default means that he is scary and must therefore will kill you at any second. That's the logic, and its sad. If this goes through, we might have to move from Ohio (because I'm not willing to lose our dog because of a spooked neighbor who probably doesn't like dogs anyway is afraid of our dog and calls the police who then have the right to come into our home without cause and take Sirius and euthanize him).
Shame on you Ohio.
There was sunburn and rashes, fevers and wine, pirates and speeding tickets
by Paul (4 Comments)
Another vacation has come and gone, mixing both extremes of time -- going at once too fast and at times seeming like it was years ago that it started. We started with a child sick and ended with impetigo. There was much wine and cigars, mini golf and sunburnt shoulders, stingrays hovering in the surf, extreme heat, books read, friends visited, prayers shared and passed, sleeping in sheets gritty where sand never seems to vanish, and one speeding ticket (with much appreciation to Marion, South Carolina for the $130 gesture for going with the flow of traffic and just 10 miles over -- as well as providing no information on who or how to pay the ticket) that soured the entire trip. Now were thrust back into life and responsibilities, tasks and duties -- but left with the satisfaction of memories.
To Someone Who Believes In Me
by Sonya (1 Comments)
Only God can see my tears of thankfulness for the gift given to me by a nameless family who signed their name: "from someone who believes in you" - someone who wished to remain faceless....someone who will be blessed by God for their act of sacrifice in blessing me in secret two weeks ago.
My words are stuttered, failing to reveal the gratitude of my heart properly, for the kindest note written to address the sorrows of my heart. Someone who knew, who gave me words that reached my soul and a good sum of money to help me until I fix the huge "hole in my pocket" called debt.
Thank you, someone. If you ever read this, please know how thankful I am, and how loved I feel, being the recipient of such mercy.
Sonya
p.s. I am putting your card in my memory box for the child who will not be forgotten in my dreams.
