Sometimes weird things run by.

When living in Los Angeles, things that happen on TV happen not on TV. At a coffee shop yesterday in North Hollywood, the Olympic torch ran by. It seems a little early, especially since the winter games will be in Vancouver next year. But I have absolutely no context to place this sighting in, since I haven’t seen any news reports before or since relating to it. And frankly, I kind of prefer it that way. The sight itself seems more significant on its own than whatever explanation likely accompanies it.

While Prop 8 is a terrible affront to basic human rights and equality, sadly and unfortunately, I think this is the way this particular battle had to go. Rightly or wrongly, conservatives get a lot of mileage about activist judges making law and defining societal values from the bench. It, like most everything else, is a ludicrous and obnoxiously ignorant framing of how our system actually works, but in this case, had the court overturned a valid election result, it would have played right into this idea, prolonging and making this debate uglier and more difficult than it needs to be.

Sadly, Prop 8 won at the ballot box in a decision made by the people in a free and fair election. As a result, the only way to really defeat it is by going back to that ballot box. Quite frankly, probably more than once. A court ruling would have only made the opposition to equality more certain of their righteousness and more determined to fight on, making them fight harder and less willing to give up.

They will keep trying, over and over again to impose their bigotry on all of us, by any means available to them. To shut them up once and for all is going to take a repeated and forceful declaration by the rest of us, the kind that is inarguable and incontrovertible, the kind which can only come at the ballot box.

I know this is a tough pill to swallow, especially for all the people out there who just want the same rights as their fellow citizens, but the loss of this particular battle makes the next one (whatever initiative ends up targeting Prop 8 for repeal)  more defining - and that’s the one that we’re going to win. And when we do, opponents to equality will have no room to cry about activist judges and liberal agendas. It will only be the voice of the people demanding fairness and equality - the incontrovertable argument of our society.

The gist is to pull some significant event from your history, pick a moment from it, and visualize the setting and action in your head. Recalling as much vivid detail as possible, write out - stream of consciousness style - the scene as completely as possible. Think about the sights, sounds, tastes, smells, and textures. Think about the light and color, about who was there, about what you were wearing and how it felt, about appearance, hair and posture, about everything you can remember.

Then, rewrite the scene out as you would write a scene in a screenplay. Here’s my stream of consciousness, minutely revised from my notebook:

Standing in the second row, crowded in the narrow aisles by the rolling chairs. Books and pictures stacked on either side of the front of the classroom, of planes, of war machines, of war.

The white board at the front, core values written on it, lessons of the day. Air Force knowledge. Backpacks on the desks. Books, notebooks, pens, pulled out, ready to go. Uncomfortable in my uniform, shirt stays pulling my shirt down and my socks up, military garters taut against my leg.

Kids, like me, standing behind me, a row and two back, over my left shoulder, cheerleading the tv screen pulled down over half the whiteboard at the front. On the screen, a city at night, fireballs erupting in the sky, shocking and awing.

That’s for 9/11! a kid cheers. They had nothing to do with 9/11, I respond. A short argument. At the front, the Captain doesn’t say anything. I look to him for help, for resolution, for I don’t know. He looks back, doesn’t say anything, maybe some sympathy in his eyes. Sunlight streams in from the windows.

A city at night, a world away, explodes.

And here’s the scene I wrote out, again minutely revised:

INT. CLASSROOM - DAY

A room adorned with military paraphernalia, mostly Air Force and aviation themed. Over half the white board at the front, a screen is pulled down, showing CNN’s view of a city at night. Regularly and frequently, fireballs blossom, lighting up the city on the TV.

A half dozen kids or so, all dressed in their Air Force cadet uniforms, take their places at desks and unpack their class materials. But their full attention is on the screen at the front. They’re eager and excited by what they see. One kid pipes up:

CADET ONE
That’s for 9/11, Saddam!

CADET TWO
Iraq didn’t have anything to do with 9/11,
this whole thing is unnecessary!

The kids don’t really have an answer, but that doesn’t concern them much. They go back to watching the carnage. Cadet Two turns to the teacher, an Air Force Captain, an imposingly built but friendly looking black man. He says nothing, but there might be some sympathy in his eyes.

Baghdad continues to burn.

FADE OUT.

So there you go, a translation of a stream of consciousness recollection into a screenplay format correct scene. Give it a try: make a list of important events in your life, pick one that you can recall vividly that stands out, and pick one particular moment (no jumps in time or place) from it. Close your eyes and recall as much detail as you can, writing it out in a stream of consciousness. Then, take that description of the moment and write it out as a scene. Decide which details are worth keeping, which should be dropped, and how to succinctly and descriptively paint the picture without wasting a word. Remember, write only what can be photographed and recorded; describe what will be seen and heard and make every moment count.

Good luck.

I had made another in a long series of resolutions to blog more, to blog regularly, to write regularly. I had actually managed to claw towards some success, though still far short of the regularity I sought (and still seek). But I had made progress, until my blogging, even as insubstantial as it was, threw such a monkey wrench into things that it honestly scared me off of the whole thing for a long time. For awhile, there was a simple aversion to even coming near my website, an aversion that coexisted with my continued desire to remake it into something that I’m not embarrassed by. But the point of this post isn’t about that story. Some of you know it, and I’ll tell it at some point - probably with names removed. But this post isn’t that story.

I just wanted to take the opportunity to list, as completely as I can off the top of my head, what I’ve done this past year:

• I worked on maybe close to a dozen short productions, sometimes as a production assistant, sometimes as a second assistant director, sometimes as help for friends or teachers, sometimes as a job for money, and sometimes as a job but not for money.
• I worked on a low budget feature as a camera truck driver and watched well known actors and a professional film crew work on set, day after day.
• I did script coverage and typed hard copies of scripts for a producer.
• I got a couple of jobs and lost them, one which was my fault and one which wasn’t.
• I started taking an acting class and have gone from doing it for the hell of it until I got a day job to becoming part of a community and making real and (I hope) lasting friends.
• I’ve watched two friends leave this town and head home, one with the intention of returning and one without.
• I’ve gone back east four times, three of them within three months.
• I volunteered and worked my butt off to get Obama elected, making phone calls to and knocking on doors here in California (in the primary) and Nevada (in the general).
• I spent the last three weekends before the election in Nevada and was in a regional campaign office in northwest Las Vegas when they called the election for Obama.
• I took some photographs, most of which I still have to upload to my Flickr account.
• I did some writing and no finishing.
• I tried to get some projects off the ground and didn’t succeed.
• I think I’ve progressed, at least somewhat, as an artist, though until I actually finish something, that’s an unfounded assertion.
• I’ve had full blooded conversations with my nephew and met my niece.
• I’ve cut down on the amount of meat I eat, though not as much as I’d like and not as unfailingly as I’d like.
• I’ve generally started to eat healthier, though the exercise half of that equation is sorely lacking.
• I’ve wasted a lot of time.
• I’ve gotten older.

That’s mostly what I can think of at the moment. I’m sure there are other things, but those are the highlights and there are thoughts I don’t quite have my head around at the moment that go along with a list like this. But we’ll call it an evening for now.