Now it was at the aforementioned location of Ponce and Peachtree, under blue skies and wispy white clouds, that Propmaster Joe Connolly and I were paddled sworn into the Atlanta chapter (479) of the IATSE; the day we finally became “real” crewmembers, indoctrinated to all of the marvelous behind-the-scenes secrets of filmmaking that most people never even imagine.

But it was a busy show and the signifcance of that moment was overshadowed by many, many factors. First of all, we had begun to realize that Daniel Baldwin was (as he openly explained) “very, very medicated”, ostensibly for a bad back.

Apparently a very naughty back indeed.

The signs of future 12-Step meetings abounded for Mr. Baldwin: the way he yelled nonsense at the Director and the Producers on set (during filming, with crew watching). His gift for showing up on set acting really twitchy, rolling around in dirt to look especially disheveled after a grenade blast (which I still think was a good idea, even if it did scare the shit out of those of us standing near him when he dropped into a squat and began rubbing dirt and crap from the ground into his hair and clothes like a chimpanzee). The way he showed up on the prop truck looking for silverware, eventually borrowing Joe’s Gerber tool, which Joe would eventually have to fetch out of the star trailer, finding it covered in sticky brown stuff. Maybe it was maple syrup. But whatever contractual and substance abuse problems Danny might have been fighting, he never, while he was in Atlanta, to the best of my knowledge, was involved in any sort of robbery event.

No, that was all mine.

While the grips and the camera guys were rigging up the “leg cam” (shown in the photo for this article), Joe asked me to run across Peachtree and around the corner into a convenience store and buy some nudie magazines to dress into the interior of the bad guys’ car. I trotted into the store and asked the short Chinese man behind the counter if he had adult magazines for sale. He confirmed that he did and directed me down one of the aisles and began to follow me to show me his selection when he suddenly began yelling “No rob! No rob!!”

Holy Shit!! Somebody had come into the store to rob the place!! I hadn’t heard the door open but I whirled around to look toward the door to see what was happening but the little man wasn’t looking at the door, he was looking at me!!!!

I was dumbfounded. What was he talking about?

He pointed at my beltline and gestured toward the small of his own back and about that time my stomach lurched because I suddenly remembered that I had a pretty good foam replica of an enormous Desert Eagle crammed into my belt. With my mouth agape I started saying “No, no, it’s not real, it’s not real!!!”

The man’s hands were up like he was being robbed, and mine were up in the air like I was being robbed. I had no idea what to do. I sure didn’t want to make the man think that I was reaching for a gun so I half-turned my butt around so he could see what I was doing and slowly lifted it out between two fingers until he could see how light the thing was. I then carefully, holding the rubber by the barrel, knocked it against my head several times using the same visual shorthand that I’d seen Joe use with 1st ADs to let them know when he was giving an actor a rubber instead of a real gun – usually during a stunt or in the event the camera was far enough away to use the foam knockoff.

And then I handed it to the little man at which point he finally realized that I wasn’t there to rob him and that the gun was fake. He started laughing and running up and down the aisle waving the thing above his head like John Wayne (John Wayne with a Desert Eagle), which was just as much a violation of the Propman’s Prime Directive as my previous gaffe. He was giddy with excitement, and I with relief.

I’m lucky the guy didn’t have a shotgun and a “no questions” policy. I’m lucky he didn’t trigger a silent alarm. I’m lucky he didn’t have a heart attack or a seizure of some description. But more than anything, I’m lucky he gave me the gun back because we needed it in the next scene up.

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Certainly, Microsoft is determined to be in the first car of the content delivery train that is set to roll out over the next three years and they see the necessity of controlling the content playback hardware, a full five years into Apple’s musical hegemony. Digital content providers like Apple, Amazon and even Wal-Mart are still being struck with studios, networks and content providers of all stripes. Microsoft is right in there with the best of them, trying to figure out what it all means.

But the rollout of the Zune represents a deeper strategy with payoffs that should appear within the next 18 months if I know my scheduling worth a lick… it’s the payoff that nobody is discussing: containing Apple’s marketshare.

Why is that important? We all know that Apple is contained to well under 10% of the installed user base… what’s the big deal?

As the world moves to what the wonks are calling the “Post Desktop” era, operating systems matter less and less. Look at the GUI at Flickr.com and YouTube.com and a hundred other “Web 2.0″ sites.

It’s happening, and it’s happening quickly. The light and nimble startups are there already, and we know from experience how quickly startups can become 8 Googlillion Pound Gorillas in the tech world. Microsoft’s strategists know that there could be sudden and rapid turnover in the market… no, that there will be sudden and rapid turnover in the market in the very near future. Their concept of .Net is already being executed all over the place by startups and even Apple Computer has been out dot-Netting Microsoft.

How do you staunch the loss of your existing customer base? Well the first thing you do is plug the hole.

You kill the bloody iPod.

If Microsoft can significantly erode the iPod’s marketshare on the MP3/Video hardware industry they’re ahead of the game and everything falls in their favor from that point forward. But they don’t even have to erode the market. If they can commoditize the market that’s just as good. Reducing Apple’s profit margin on the iPod and eroding their market share pushes that hardware player down the slope long enough for Microsoft to create their own market for the thin client computers that we’ll surely all be using by 2010.

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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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