A Series of Events
The other day sitting blankly, half watching an ABC show about King Henry II, I thought how fortunate we are to possess so much knowledge of the events of these people, these lives lived long ago. But then I stopped to think how unfortunate for all those millions of lives that are not remembered through the ages, those who are lost in history. Not everyone can be king, but does that make the particulars of their lives any less worthy of remembrance? Their personal tales of love, loss, passion, envy and everything in between or just the steady series of events that make up their humble day to day lives, forever forgotten.
There were dark clouds looming across the sky yesterday afternoon and into the night and I wondered if rain would perhaps ruin our plans for filming today. I woke up to the sound of my clock radio, which is vicariously positioned on the TV across the other side of my room, primarily to help prevent the endless cycle of snooze hitting and falling asleep again. Having to actually get out of bed to turn off the alarm, I looked out my bedroom window to see the sun shining brightly in the clear blue sky.
Shooting went well, although there weren’t too many shots that we could do that didn’t require the extras, which were still to be arranged, so I was able to leave a little earlier than expected and catch up on a little Christmas shopping. It was also a chance to get out of the terrible heat of the day, exploiting the air-conditioned comfort of suburban commerce.
Tonight we watched Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events, which wasn’t too bad I guess — it was meant to be a kids movie after all. On the way to Stafford City I looked over to see Peter riding his motorbike alongside me. I waved and tooted my horn a bit, but he was already turning around the corner. Further on down the road I saw Ben driving in the opposite direction. I waved to him too, but he didn’t see me either. No one ever sees.