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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