Sometimes my drive to work is just kinda strange.
Today’s drive to work started out like any other drive. I left the house at a reasonable time, got into the car, drove
to the 101, and braced myself for the morning crawl. Luck was actually with me, however, becaue there in fact was no crawl on the
asphalt… all the cars were actually moving! Now this in iteself is something that can already be considered as strange, but it
was just the tip of the iceberg.
So there I was gleefully zipping down the 101 completely amazed at this whole experience of traffic actually moving. About half
way through the drive though I got a very sharp and rude awakening to the fact that even in a wonderful circumstance such as this
things can (and most often will) go wrong. In this particular case the going wrong wasn’t all that bad, just very jarring and shocking.
It seems that some free spirited box had decided to jump free of whatever truck was carrying it. I’m sure the box was very surprised
at how quickly it was turned from a box into something of much less 3 dimmensiol shape: a flattened piece of cardboard. I’m sure it
was almost as shocked as I was when, while getting run over by the car in front of mine, it was thrown up into the air and then found
itself pushed flat against the front left portion of my car. Yeah, that’s right… with a very loud thud I found that part of my hood
and my front left headlight were now having this piece of cardboard forced down on them by the laws of propulsion. Oddly enough this
caused me to actually hope for the very thing I was so happy not to have at the moment: gridlock. At that given moment (and for the
subsequent 10 miles) I would have given anything to have the cars just stop and have the cardboard fall off.
Right around my off ramp the cardboard box and I parted ways and I was very happy to think that anything that could happen had
happened and the rest of my remaining two hour journey would be without event. Wrong!
In the next to last block of my drive, at the corner of Wilcox and Hollywood Blvd. it turned out that I was stuck in traffic for
20 minutes. Now, this is just your standard city block, so there was no real reason for the delay… well, no reason except for one:
a movie shooting something at that spot. You see, most of the time in the area I work you can find at least one production shooting
something and it will inevitably be in the way of wherever you need to go. In this particular case they were shooting a scene in a
car right in front of the light at Wilcox and Hollywood Blvd.
Usually there is only one thing to do at these times… wait. Eventually, while you drive through the area of shooting, you can
look at all the PA’s wearing their headset microphones either talking on their cell phones or their two way radios. If you watched
any of the “Project Greenlight” show on HBO it can be an even more interesting experience as you try to determine what everyone who
is running around does on the project, what equipment they are using, etc. Because of this I was actually looking at the gear that
they had strung all along the sidewalk to my left. At one point I got a little excited because I realize I’m sitting next to a
bunch of reference monitors, which surely were showing the shot that they were getting. Sadly, my angle for seeing what was on the
monitors was very poor.
Just when I was about to give up looking at the miracle of movie making being made right in front of me I realized that some one
was walking up to the monitors. This got my attention for two reasons: 1) movement (I always seem to look at things that are moving)
and 2) wondering if I could actually recognize the director if this was him/her. Well, my mind very quickly realized that I was in
fact not looking at any director I’d know… but I was looking at Han Solo himself. Right there before my eyes was Harrison Ford,
dressed up in a greyish suit, his bluish tie a bit askew, and makeup blood done up to mimic a bloody nose. He sat down in front of
the monitors, took a quick look and then leaned over to talk to someone next to him.
At this point the traffic finally starts moving and I actually have to drive away. My mind quickly races as I ponder if I shout out
anything to gain that momentary recognition from Indiana Jones, something that makes him look at the asshole in the Saturn and
acknowledge my existence. Plenty of things run through my mind… “No time for love Dr. Jones!” probably being the most prevolent. I’m
sure, that as you sit here and read this, you might be thinking to yourself, “Dear lord… he didn’t…” Well, to be honest, no, I didn’t.
That’s right folks, all I did was notice the guy, see that the traffic was clear, and get myself to work (especially since his damn
movie shoot had now made me 15 minutes late for work). No time for love indeed.
-WW