Bandages

Old friends are to your general well being, as a bandage is to a scraped knee - they may help a little, but really, they just make you feel better so you can live life. 

Last night flew over the bridge after work, into the city. I hit the Big Midget Shop where I tossed back a number of beers and an even larger number of darts. One of the partners that runs the shop was the Gaffer I Best Boy'd for for the last three years of my freelance career; we're not really very good friends, but strangely have a very strong relationship. Although we never see each other to go catch  a movie, or go to BBQs, we worked very closely on set and grew to trust one another.

Conversely, his shop is also the main competition to my own shop, but the bay area's film industry is small enough that we've all figured out that it's easier to work together than against one another.

By coincidence, the technician that trained me on my first big movie was at the shop as well.

It turned into five hours of beer, darts, loud music, old stories, Doritos, and a warehouse full of laughs. 

This weekend, slap on a bandage, and find your happy.

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Benjamin Francis Leftwich - Atlas Hands

Ending Note: I don't recommend the film industry to anyone, but wouldn't trade those years for a thing.

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Oh, it's been a bit since I've posted anything, but soon dear friends, soon.

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Cowboy And Indian - Save Your Soul

Ending Note: The NFL season makes me cranky.

A Decade Past

Ten years ago, nearly 3,000 people died because of malice. The country is still fighting that today, and I've my own opinions on how that'll turn out, but this isn't the time for that. Most of those folks that perished that day were just people, normal Americans, going to work; moms, dads, young professionals - just headed to another day. As innocent as most of us can be, they were innocent.

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Rock Falls - Tonight Tonight

Ending Note: Do something good this week.

Live Things and Letting Things Lie

Yesterday, headed over to Red's for a lobster dinner with some of our friends. Never cooked lobster before, so this was a nice learning experience. 

Me: "Let's name this one Charles."

The long weekend has been catching up with good friends, a lot of Netflix streaming, and satisfying lethargy. I attempted a go at doing some laundry, but a lack of quarters put a halt to things before they could even begin.

Red and me started in on a discussion before the others arrived, but wisely switched into more enjoyable conversation instead.

Me: "You know you're not supposed to be doing that."

Red: "I know. But can we not talk about that now? Can we talk about it another time?"

Me: "Yes."

It's alright to be lazy, at least, for a small amount of time; we could all do for more attention to respites. Life isn't Degrassi Junior High, or the latest Mandy Moore romantic comedy - we don't need the big talks or the screaming matches to communicate with one another.

90% of communication is what you choose to hear.

The words, the person speaking, that's a small percentage of things - most of the time, whoever you're talking with, already knows your words, and already knows where you're going with it. Going on a tirade is simply verbal masturbation. 

Look at it this way:

You like your friends, and being that they're your friends, you probably respect them and enjoy their company. If you're anything like me, you don't respect or enjoy the company of idiots. So, in poor philosophical analysis, you respect your friends, and they're not idiots. Ergo, whatever you have to say to them, they probably already know. You can add that 10%, but why bother?

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Radiohead - Motion Picture Soundtrack

Ending Note: Charles was damn tasty.