I had planned to take some time this morning to write a proper post, full of reflection, introspection, thoughts for the future, and so forth. I’ve kinda let that time slip away, working on a few little bits for the Fuel empire, keeping up with Facebook, and tinkering with the blog itself. Maybe I’ll find time later?
So I’m 41 now. Not much of a blogger, though I stoutly declare that I am still very much a blogger at heart. 1258 posts! Most of which you can’t get at anymore – I archived them. I think in print sometimes. I’m certainly deep in a blog-worthy life. Marjorie and I are expecting our twosome to become a threesome in just… eleven weeks! And New York really is the center of the universe – you can feel it all out there, spiraling around us.
The Chaos team recently returned from the Banff World Media Festival – you can read a bit about our adventure here. As much as we like to tell ourselves how awesome we are, it’s still a little unnerving to immerse yourself amongst the kings & queens of the industry and come out feeling like you’re absolutely right. I mean, ego is one thing, and we always qualify our braggadocio with the knowledge that we have yet to see our work on television, but… nevertheless… we work hard and it shows. The network (and/or studio) that jumps in bed with us is going to be happy they did. Sure we have a lot to learn, but our creativity, our drive for perfection, and our ability to collaborate makes us a bit of a dream team, if I do say so myself.
Anyway. A year ago this moment I was headed to Central Park for a picnic with the New York contingent arranged by Marjorie. Her plan was to send us fellas on a fabulous scavenger hunt all over town, culminating in a birthday feast. Her plan went flawlessly and we discovered many new and exciting spots to raise a pint. Once we’d reached the finish line, however, I put my own plan into action and proposed. She said yes. We got married three months later. A whirlwind, yes, but such is my life. Now, one year on, she’s glowingly pregnant and we could not possibly be happier (unless it involved bags of money).
We went to our first prenatal class last night – three hours flew by. We have a couple drawers filling up with baby clothes. I dream almost exclusively about the birthing process. I smile when I see the antics of little girls on the subway. We debate the merits of various classic children’s books. We ruthlessly dissect the feature sets and quality of strollers. We are baby crazy.
The company has dug in and got serious about building a many-tentacled empire. We are still working diligently on phasing out the mom & pop aspects, but we have goals and we are on the path to reaching them. The day is in sight when the company operates like a company, and we can focus less on the how and more on the why. And then it’s all fun. My own mindset has shifted fundamentally in the last year. I’m no longer content to come along for the ride and play Captain Supportive. I’ve recognized that I’m needed at the wheel sometimes, whether it’s asked for or not, and I don’t hesitate to throw my shoulder in. I won’t say there’s a discreet sense of “it’s about time” from the team, but I do feel it’s appreciated. Which is good, because I don’t feel I’ve mastered the necessary tact yet. Better to get out and push than ask if anyone would mind.
So. Chaos. We now have The Million Dollar Rolodex. We met with top shelf execs from Warner Bros, AMC and NBC Universal Cable. We also met with others. I say it that way because these were the ones who seemed most excited about where we were driving. The others seemed either intimidated or helpless. There is a sense that the industry wants Story and Stars. And why not? What good reason could there be to vary from the very simple formula? Well, not counting the appeal of reality tv, which costs (comparatively) almost nothing to shoot and can be brand-driven out the yin-yang. When we show up and extoll the virtues of an admittedly radical shift in how tv works, and then get into the story (which is very good, btw, and would stand just fine on its own), execs can be forgiven for arching their eyebrows and looking for the nearest exit. If they can get past that first panic attack, then their eyebrows keep climbing. They start writing things down. They start asking questions. That’s our favorite part.
Didn’t I say I was pressed for time today? Yes. Yes I did. I’m going to try to come back later… probably tomorrow… and chat some more. For now, well, New York calls. Lee and I have some story to write, and then a few of us are going to go see Empire. I’ll see if I can’t take some pictures for posterity.