Okay, in the first part of that video you saw a chair’s upholstery being sucked up into a vacuum cleaner, right? Well here’s how it worked….

The engineering for this setup involved finding an existing chair and stripping the upholstery from its frame. The next step required us to fabricate an upholstered “breakaway skin” that wrapped around the chair’s frame, however, we couldn’t use velcro to secure the skin in place because we needed to be able to YANK the skin down through a hole in the floor as the set for both of these chair commercials were built on an elevated stage so that the chair wranglers could be poised underneath to yank the upholstered skin through a small hole cut in the deck of the stage (for the first commercial) and to spin & flip the “bucking” chair (in the second commercial).

To make the “breakaway skin” fit the chair properly required endless adjustments to the way the flaps were sewn, adjustments to where bits of padding were added, consideration given to the resistance of the fabric on the texture of the padding… just a jillion little never ending adjustments. Even though I felt like the only person working on this gizmo there were actually a number of guys who had a hand in it and I just realized after watching this video that Michael Benedict (now with the Atlanta Opera) had worked on this gag as well!!

On the day of the shoot there were three of us below the deck for the vacuum commercial.
There was a hole cut into the floor directly in front of the chair and a vacuum cleaner was pushed up to the hole. A balloon was fitted inside the vacuum’s fabric bag and an air hose snaked out of the vacuum’s beater bar area down into the hole and up to an air compressor. A thick rope of cords and strings went from underneath the chair down that same hole.

Now, remember when I said that we couldn’t use velcro?
Well we couldn’t. However, we could (and did) use T-pins to hold certain bits of the skin in place.

Everything else depended on timing.

When the cameras rolled and the director called “action” it was my job to pull strings connected to the pins, releasing the skin from its hold on the wooden frame. The man operating the air tank (Paul Huggins, co-owner of Scenario Custom Scenery) would begin inflating the vacuum cleaner’s bag while the “Yank Guy” (Jesse) frenetically pulled the cords connected to the bulk of the breakaway upholstered skin.

We must’ve done the gag a dozen times or more and the final product looked great on camera.

Have you seen the commercial?

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Unlike drinking, driving, voting and sex, Nostalgia is an ineffable experience that busybodies are unable to protest and politicians are unable to legislate. And try as they might to experience it, the young are entirely unable to appreciate the sensation of nostalgia blooming across their minds until they’ve actually reached an age where the magic works.

Not having studied psychology in college or for my professional career, I’m entirely unaware of the the established chronological demarcation points for the age at which we first begin to experience the pangs of desire for what went before. It’s certainly something that most of us begin feeling in our 30s, and I know that I missed things from my childhood by my mid-20s. But, regardless of the age at which it begins, you must admit that there’s an endorphic blast when you encounter some fundamentally iconic touchstone of your youth.

Like these tickets.

In but a second the sight of these movie tickets slammed me through 40 years of memories to the place where I had just experienced seeing a lightsaber for the very first time. The place where I first saw Darth Vader stride across the screen in all his menacing glory. The first time that I considered that machines might one day have awareness of themselves.

All of it. Every bit of the impact of that film on my mind and imagination.

That fundamental moment of change, all there in a tiny, tiny piece of paper. Incredible.

As my appreciation for the power of nostalgia continues to grow, I’ve started to consider all the other rewarding experiences of adulthood which balance out the “lost joys” of youth; like friendship and parenthood… both of which can provide even more opportunities to feed our love for nostalgia.

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I always knew that stuff was bunk.

Sure, I still worry that there are a few holdouts in the education community who believe that artistic talent is an inherent ability that (when nurtured and encouraged) can produce sublime works able to touch the soul and elevate the human condition. But, with Adobe’s announcement of a free online version of Photoshop, I’m fairly positive that those old education crustaceans will be ferreted out of hiding soon enough, to be exposed to the heavy heel of Bauder College’s new catchphrase! Silly old sods, couldn’t they see this coming?

It’s past time that an accredited 4-year community college had the guts to step forward and lead the world into that bright, gauzy future where anyone can be anything they want to be, as long as they have the right software loaded on their computer (you know, like in that movie ‘The Matrix’?). Haven’t we learned by now that it’s “not what you know, it’s what your computer knows” that’s important?

I surely have.

The man who sold me my first Macintosh-style computer told me that it was “insanely great*” and that it would let me “create professional graphic design right out of the box”. Oh boy was that guy right! It took me awhile (probably ten years or more) but because of that software I can proudly say that I earn my living today as a Designer (with a capital ‘D’).

I love all the automatic things in today’s software, like Photoshop’s “make me look younger” button and Illustrator’s “make the chart look more professional” button and PowerPoint’s” can you please help me fix this slide because my team needs to walk out the door with this presentation in five minutes and I have no idea what I’m doing” button. These things make me look like a champ every time and I *love* it!! Oh… and where would I be without CSSEdit’s “figure out how the box model for IE works and make my site do it correctly because I have no idea how to do it” button?

I want to MARRY that button!!

But then I’m just a hopelessly lazy romantic.
Software buttons are amazing.

Truth be told, it’s entirely because of all the sophisticated software installed on my Macintosh-style computer that I’m as important as I am now… and I’m pretty sure that I might in fact be even more important…. if I can get the software.

I mean, come on!!
The software is out there, it’s just a matter of finding it and loading it onto my Macintosh-style computer.

Looking through all the available software makes me realize that my career options are boundless!!

Airline Pilot
While I’m pretty certain that I could become a darned good pilot with some flight sims I just don’t have the patience to sit through all that instrument crap. Pilots have a button for that stuff, right? I like the hours they work and all the stewardess sex they say they have, and even though they whine a lot, how bad could it be driving a bus through the sky to Paris? PARIS!! I hear that some airlines in the Midwest even let their pilots drink when they’re working… how cool would that be? You know, if someone would send me a Space Shuttle simulator that runs on my Macintosh-style computer I might even pursue my 6th grade dream of being an astronaut. I’m telling you I’d *love* wearing an astronaut jacket and pushing all those “space buttons” they have. If learning some software is the price I must pay to earn my flight wings then I’m up to the challenge… reporting for duty sir!

Billionaire Warlord
My growing familiarity with Microsoft Excel has already made me consider whether I might ought to put in a resume for Chairman of the Federal Reserve, though I feel that Donald Trump is truly looking for a trustworthy disciple to carry forth his good work. I feel that I must be able to work Excel better than The Donald, which really makes me feel that he should be replaced quickly, to protect the investors who back his endeavors. (Can anyone point me toward the “keep my hair from looking like a deceased (but randy) wombat” button in Excel??)

Legendary Director
By mid-summer I’m hoping to have signed a significant motion picture deal as my Macintosh-style computer has both iMovie and Final Cut Express installed on it. Some of you may already be fans of my films. Best of all is the “pull the clips into a final edit” button. It requires no understanding of storytelling whatsoever. See?

Writer
I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m already off to a great start in this world where software, not talent, is what counts. Consider this very WordPress blog (the one you’re reading right now) for instance. Its many features and user-definable options make writing effortless… for instance, at this very moment I’m down at the local pizza parlor drinking a beer, yet this article is indefinably compelling and vaguely humorous. Cool, huh? I’m pretty sure it’s from all the plug-ins I’ve installed.

So, in conclusion (my software is running out of wind), let me salute the leaders at Bauder College; a place of vision. A college whose leaders recognize that we live in new and exciting times where software does everything.

Where no one individual’s talents are encouraged or celebrated…. wish we’d had this stuff at my alma mater, Georgia Tech. Sheesh, that would’ve been awfully darn handy!

But THANKS Bauder.
Thanks for joining me to stand up with a little straight talk about the future.

I’ll certainly think of your television advertisement the next time one of your students sends me their resume!

Your pal,
Drew

* a favorite saying of a computer company guy named Steve Jobs, who (as I understand it) sells computers that already let you do foolproof graphic design

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If I had to pick just one word to describe Stephenson’s writing style I would, besides feeling slightly gypped, select ‘dense’ because he packs so much information into a small amount of space, rather like the cryptologists of his novel. I would find myself re-reading paragraphs over and over just to squeeze understanding from the words. I had to think, something I haven’t had to do in a long time… not because I am so incredibly smart, but because I am so incredibly lazy that I prefer to read nice pulpy science fiction stories over books that make me question my reality. Partly because my reality is already fairly unreal.

Like a lot of you, I go through a standard novel like a hot knife through butter; great swaths of paragraphs ingested in blinks. I think it’s safe to say that we do this because, fundamentally, we read books for their ideas and not for their art. It’s a double pleasure when the author turns out to have both ideas and art.

I think that Stephenson is one of these rare double threats, but not because of his poetry… people like Ray Bradbury can (and always will) kick his ass all day long, coming and going. It’s not the way that he phrases his words, it’s the way that he phrases his ideas. The way that Cryptonomicon unfolds is compelling and the ideas that he teaches along the way are every bit as exciting (and perhaps more believable) than anything that John Crichton has turned out in years.

The book’s characters range from the believable to the unbelievable, mundane to mythic.

I know that I’m late to this game, ‘Cryptonomicon’ was published in the pre-9/11 world of 1999 and has the “long boom” of the dot-com age stitched into its essence. Still, I can’t wait to find people with whom I can discuss Marine Private Shaftoe, a credit to his branch of the service. And cryptography! I’d love to learn to start using crypto email, though the only thing I can think to send would be long ass book reviews like this one.

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“Do you miss it?”
I keep hearing that question echo through my mind.

“Are you coming back?”
We all know that very few get away clean.

*Do* I miss it? More than you know.
The water-slicked streets, the low background rumble of city traffic, the electric jolt of adrenaline knowing that your next decision could affect billions of people around the world.

Am I coming back? Eventually. Somehow. I have to.

My utility belt taunts me.
Bristling with black ballistic nylon catches, double-over/under safety snaps, kevlar loops, equipment harnesses and custom molded holsters – three years into retirement it’s still more advanced than anything on the street today; beyond state of the art and yet it hangs on the wall like an antique.

Don’t think that it doesn’t hate me for leaving everything behind.
For growing comfortable in my retirement and……

“Hey, DUMBASS, I just asked you a question. Do you miss working on movies?”

Wha?
Where am I?
Oh yeah, on set.
Visiting.
Using the sad excuse of selling my Film-GA license plates just to catch a passing buzz from the filmmaking happening all around me.

“Uh, yeah, sorry… I guess I miss it a little bit. But you know my, um, my new job is really dependable.”
The words “dependable”? and “passionate”? are on opposite ends of the dictionary for a reason.

I’m leaning against a cart, out of the way of the working crew, just watching the million little things that most people will never know happen during the infinity that looms just before the cameras roll. I see the entire tableau….

• Every department tweaking their stuff for as long as they possibly can… making adjustments even as the cameras roll.
• A seasoned grip wrestling a flag from the hands of a flailing greenhorn, setting it expertly in seconds and walking away.
• The stills photographer chatting up the sexiest extra. He can do her headshots for her. Something about tasteful nudes. Cards are exchanged. He’s creepy, she’s determined.
• The Director and his Cinematographer are locked in a silent struggle for the title of alpha-filmmaker. North Face versus Mountain Hard Wear.
• There’s the sound mixer, accidentally overhearing the most intimate secrets of the leading man because Mr. Tom McShorty-short-short is still wearing his wireless microphone while talking on his cellphone to his spiritual advisor at the church of sciento-tific-ness. Sounds like he might need a complimentary stress test after that couch dance.
• There’s the wannabe starlet making it a point that you see that she’s not wearing a bra. Wait, make that two points.
• A knot of hair and makeup girls are huddled head-to-head behind video village, planning their next drunk.
• A propguy dashes past, bending a piece of wire into the shape of an unscripted prop that the Director just dreamed up two minutes ago. Why are these propguys always so twitchy?
• A Teamster drifts through the background, trying to gauge how long it will be before the Martini. The trucks move tonight.
• The producer looks at his watch and pointedly catches the UPM’s eye: is this costing me? The UPM catches the 1st AD’s eye: you have to shoot NOW or you’re on my list. The 1st AD’s adam’s apple bobs in a nervous gulp just before he starts barking random orders at random crew members to hurry up because WE NEED TO ROLL NOW. Spankings always rolls downhill.
• The indifferent look of the old-timers as they patently ignore the 1st AD and continue to finish prepping the shot.
• The harried jabbering of ridiculously underpaid production assistants as they begin crossing out tomorrow’s call time on the call sheets and scribbling in the new call time with red Sharpies. Only 200 call sheets left to do. Oh yeah, and don’t let anybody through that lock-up Skippy.
• The sudden hush that falls over a crew as the cameras roll and sound hits mark.
• The Director’s explosive call of “ACTION!!”.
• The actors tentatively rolling into their lines, trying their marks on for size at full speed and intensity for the first time on-film.
• The squoooshy farting sound of pneumatic tires rolling down an unpowdered dolly track.
• The dolly grip’s exaggerated cringe of embarrassment for the noise.
• The inevitable smirk on the camera department’s faces as the boom operator rolls his eyes in disgust.
• The resultant stifled hysterical laughter of a punch drunk crew who’ve been shooting nights all a week.

They’re only going to roll on this 22 times before pushing in for singles.
Would you want to miss any of this?

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