Things Fall Apart (Part I)

I should preface this by saying that whenever my father and I do anything together, it always ends up an adventure.

So, accordingly, my weekend in exile was a hilarious flop.

I packed up my car on Friday afternoon, no small task considering I had my computer, monitor, camera, tripod, microphone stand, backpack and suitcase. All told the stuff inside the car was worth more than the car itself, which I think is key in not getting anything stolen. First rule of being a filmmaker: apparent poverty can be your friend.

The adventure began when I headed over to Dad's only to learn that we couldn't get the key to the trailer until Saturday. No biggie - Dad has a posh pad south of Pittsburgh, and he put me up for the night in his basement. To celebrate, we had a great dinner at Bravo - Dad and Sue seemed highly entertained by me, and I was equally delighted by their stories from their recent trip to Ireland. You have to understand, my father is like Mr. Genius Scientist - I found out recently that he had a hand in inventing both solar panels and the rail guns used to launch satellites - and he has a PhD from Carnegie Mellon University, the thesis from which I tried to read and my eyes fell out of my head. CUT TO: Unemployed writer/filmmaker/musician son who can barely do his own laundry let alone invent the next rail gun, and you get the kind of dynamic that is my father and I. I'm glad he finds me funny. I take an inordinate amount of comfort in his confidence that eventually I'll find my way.

After dinner I headed over to Lebo. Tooch called and invited me to go to Logan's Pub in North Oakland to hear the illustrious Double Shot acappella group perform, so I swung by, ate some of her Halloween candy, and we headed out. As soon as Double Shot gets a website I'll post a link because these guys are good. [I've been thinking of even offering to make it for them, but I'm pretty sure Luke has dibs.] I'm good friends with three of its main members, as is Tooch, so we had a great time listening to the guys perform, all the while pretending to be sucking each other's faces and sending dirty PIX messages to Jessie with Tooch's phone. Tooch is a hilarious lightweight and was toasted after two beers. We had balls-to-the-wall intellectual sex on the way home, and I headed back to Dad's basement for the night.

The next morning started early. I had unloaded all of the computer stuff seeing as how it was going below freezing overnight, so we had to repack everything before heading to breakfast at Drew's.

If my family ever had a "haunt," it would be Drew's. Almost half of my Sunday mornings for 10 years were spent chowing down on milkshakes and italian fritattas with my brother and Dad after church. All the waitresses knew him (and us) by name. I have great memories of this restaurant, a little mom and pop off of Ardmore Blvd, and whenever I go there I feel like I'm 16 and can order a vanilla milkshake for breakfast. Definitely a good start to the day.

After an hour-long car ride out east, Dad and I arrived at the trailer. We had to put it in four-wheel-drive to get up there - the gravel road that led up to it was impressively dimpled and grooved, so much so that I was glad I was wearing a seatbelt at 5 mph. Not really knowing what to expect, I pulled the truck into a leaf-covered clearing and see this:



Wow. Just... wow. I am simultaneously thrilled and terrified by this picture, as I was when I first saw the real thing. I didn't know what to expect inside, anything. Turns out it was very nice, furnished - the whole nine yards. It even had a fridge and central heating.

The only thing it didn't have was electricity.

None.

At all...

SFX - DRAMATIC MUSIC

(end part I)