Such a hell of a day...

No, not that day.  That day was good.  That's why I'm putting the shot up here.  To remind me. That some days are better than others.  You do actually have a good day once in a while.

Yesterday was not one of those days.

Not a good one.

In fact, it was a hell of a day.  Really.

See, I forget that we're 'cursed'.  "Cursed?  What do you mean cursed?"  Well, I'm referring to the 'Eden Narrative' where our first parents, Adam and Eve, 'fell' into rebellion and were 'cursed' as a result.  All of a sudden, childbirth became much more painful and the Earth would conspire to yield thorns and rocks instead of compliant crops for Adam the farmer.

Basically a God-sized can 'o whup-yo-ass got opened on our parents and things have stayed that way ever since.

Even if you don't believe the old stories (which is totally fine, I'd be less than worth my salt if this blog was read only by people who all believe in a certain way...) you've got to admit that, most of the time, life seems to be much more difficult than we 'feel'--deep down in the guts of us--it ought to be.

It's just so damn hard sometimes.

Like yesterday.

It started out great, I had a wonderful post audio session with my composer putting sound to the pitch video for 'DEATH'S DOOR', the dramatic TV series we hope will be our next big narrative project.  The pitch is going to be powerful.  I'd be very surprised if it didn't make a strong impact on the Network we're pitching.

So I drove home on a cloud then descended to my basement office.

Might as well have been walking down into the abyss.  'Cause all hell's (literally) breaking loose in my talk-TV world.

See, here's the thing, (and these are 'trade secrets') every year around this time my Executive Producer and I get into our 'once a year fight'.  It's typically about money.  The reason is that it's this time of year that we're facing utter destruction on the one hand and an increase in our productivity on the other.

We, literally, might be ten-times busier in 2009 than we were in 2008, and that'd be great and terrifying at the same time.  There's also a chance--and figuring out how great a chance is a constant mind-game--that everything we're doing will fall-through leaving us, essentially unemployed next year.  And I have to plan--actually plan--for both eventualities.  

We all love planning for success, but how about planning for your utter demise?  How'd you like to spend your days doing that?

So You Think You Want To Be A Producer, Canada?

I mean, it's almost ridiculous to think that we could have done all the work we've done this past year to come up with a big 'ol goose egg in return.

Right?

But the thing is.  It's possible.  I remember the garden and that we're cursed.  I think about entropy and the fact that most things never seem to go your way.  I think about all the people out there who'd love to see me take a fall and wonder why they feel that way and shudder to think that I'm the kind of guy who might elicit that kind of reaction in people.  I think about God and His supposed goodness.  I say 'supposed' to let you in on my honest-to-goodness state of mind yesterday.  I'm sitting there, facing it, thinking to myself "Well, you know, really you've got no guarantees.  God didn't promise you a job.  God didn't promise you ease.  And, anyway, you might be deluded with this whole 'God-thing' anyway."

(I don't really think I am, but want to be 100% transparent in this forum re: my internal dialogue)

So I sit there really troubled and concerned.

And the trick is to get past it and get back to work.

You sit with your wife and watch 'So You Think You Can Dance Canada' and you eat some cereal with blueberries and you drink some red wine then you go to bed.  When your baby daughter wakes up at 2:30am you pick her up and carry her to Mommy then leave your bed to the both of them and crawl into the bottom bunk in your older daughter's room and spend a good half-hour trying to stop thinking about all the things you need to do and all the things that seem to be going wrong and all the things that might still go wrong and you, eventually, fall asleep.

Then you wake up troubled.  Not quite grumpy, but very pensive and afraid.  You make breakfast, clean up from it, have a second cup of coffee with your wife then go back down into the abyss to see if you can find some light in the midst of the darkness.

You work your way through in faith.

Believing in something you can't see.

Believing that you've been given what it takes to do the thing you've been given to do.

Believing that, in spite of how bleak everything looks, there will come a day again when the sun shines and the sky blues and the mountains look fake they look so good and you smile crookedly 'cause you know it's good now but probably won't be forever.

And that's life.

Woooo...saahhh...

T

In the mountains...

Last time we were here it was just Nicole and I.  We'd stumble out of bed at 10:30am or so, throw on some sweats, and shuffle over to the nearest Starbucks; before we had them anywhere but in British Columbia.  We'd sit there sipping our lattes thinking and chatting some about what our life might end up being like.

Fast forward ten years...

And you get the same square in the same village with the same girl except now she's holding your youngest son, and the both of them are smiling like they've not a care in the World, the sun and the fall colors agreeing with them. 

Then as Mommy and the babies window shop--and 'shop' they did stopping in store after store after store--Daddy wanders up-village a block or two and see this...

Pretty nice right?

I think they call it the Garibaldi range, the family of mountains of which Whistler and Blackcomb are a part.

That's where we've been kicking it the last couple days.

Whistler...

And every bit of enjoyment is payback for the five hour flight then three hour drive (they're rebuilding the sea-to-sky highway for 2010) with four kids.

They were great though.

But the reason I'm blogging on this--other than that the shots are bound to look cool on SFS's black background--is because of the 'moment' when I came out of the village Starbucks with four kids' hot chocolates in my hand, and a pumpkin scone, and a piece of low-fat banana chocolate chip cake for the six of us to share.

It all washed over me then.  The passage of time.

It feels like yesterday that it was just Niki and me.

And here's the point.

Everywhere we looked today we were surrounded by our peers.  The ski-bums and ski-bunnies. Aussies and Seattle-ites and young Canadians, all congregated here because it's a time warp.  A resort destination where adventure-buffs come to while away their youth.

But the thing is, your youth is fleeting.  You're going to blink and it'll be gone.  And you'll either be looking scruffy and unwashed, sitting in the Whistler Village square scratching at three days growth, staring at young women's lululemon ensconced bums passing by or you'll be strolling with your babies wondering where the time's gone and thinking your wife's bum looks mighty nice in them lululemon pants...

And sure, those ski-dudes spend some wonderful days--I'm sure--up on the glacier, riding unblemished snow and loving life and I'd love to be them for a day or two, not a care in the World, all of life a playground.  But then I'd hear my wife's voice in my head, "What do these people do that they can buy three hundred dollar jackets and designer boots and high-fashion sun glasses and tights?"

"Well, they've got no kids and no car and no house and..."

No life.

I mean, they've got a life.  A fun life.  

But it's a certain kind of life--one that has certain kinds of rewards.

And I'm all for it, if it's what you want.

Just make sure you don't get so entranced by the 'lure' of a certain way of life that you don't take the time to really think about who you've been made to be and what that means in terms of the life you ought to be pursuing.

'Cause them mountains are so gorgeous you could blink and spend a lifetime up here.

But life would be going on down in the valley.

And you gotta' know where you're meant to be.

That's all.

Be where you're meant to be.  Know it.  Love it.  Live it.

T