So I left for Louisiana on a 8am flight from National. Which means I got up a 4:30am, double checked my luggage, took a shower, emptied my pockets of all extraneous metal, found a small lighter to try and smuggle through security, acquired my backup matches, packed my XBOX (it was being used in the film, I don't have time for fun on these shoots,) and trudged my way to the Silver Spring Metro in the pre-dawn darkness and blistering cold.
After a short concern that the yellow line would never arrive at Gallery Place, I got to National with about 1 hour and 15 minutes to spare. Of course, I had problems with Continental's express check in, but the service woman set me straight - Jonathon was just lucky that I was in line ahead of him, or it would have been him get the early morning mocking.
So after a flawless trip through security (yes, I get the lighter on the flight) I made my way to concourse A. It's always a longer walk than you think. I checked in with the producer and the crew, 45 minutes to go and no problems, kind of unique, so it was now coffee time. Which meant a walk all the way back to concourse B.
At the junction of A and B, I encountered a Newt. Newt Gingrich. The devil of the 1990's himself, and his third wife. What does a rabid liberal due when faced with the conservative speaker of the house that wasted millions of tax payers dollars trying to remove a duly elected president of the united states? Well i was wearing sunglasses, so I stared him down and acted superior to him. Then when in line for coffee I called my producer and told her he was coming her way - she spotted him just then. That's more a sighting than a story, but wait there is more.
Coffee in hand I returned to our get as boarding began. Producer says to me, "I think he's on our flight." "Bull shit," I replied. "It too early for that..." "I don't know..." she countered. We moved
on more coherent and pertinent subjects as we boarded.
Son of a bitch if the Newt isn't the first thing I see when walking through first class on my way to the back of the "air" bus. So now I have to do something right? What can I do , I have to get to Louisiana, and walking isn't an option at this point. So I let my XBOX back nudge him, he looks up, and the best I can do is give him a uninterested and unimpressed, "speaker."
And that was it. Aside from a long as flight to Houston, and throw back to the 50's jumper flight to Alexandria, LA. Really the first time I wanted to kiss the ground after a flight. The second was on the jumper back to Houston a week later, but it was Texas, and ain't no way in Hell I was kissing the ground in Texas. I went with Grip Steve to the "presidential lounge" and drank free Bloody Marys instead. Much better choice. Though, in retrospect, I now wish I had taken a picture of myself with the bronze statue of George H.W. in the Houston airport. But who has time for such things when the alcohol is free.
My favorite part of the directions on a MRE (meal ready to eat.) I just hope our Soldiers can find a "or something..."
Yes, I do direct.
See if you can guess where I am now? As a side note, this was Valentine's Day and the crane operator was kind enough to share a video he had received on his phone with me. It was entitled, "The Dairy Farmer's Daughter." Here are your hints: Porn, Utters, CGI...ready...Go! Oddly, it was more pleasant than our NASCAR conversation.
