The Night Before Filming

[ Ed. note: Ironically, on the heels of this post I found out that John, my camera man, got into a car accident roughly 6 (count'em, six) hours away from Woodstock. Because he could no longer get back to the Dairy Capital in good time, filming itself had to be pushed until Thursday... meaning, in actuality, that this post was not posted on the eve before shooting; in fact, it was three days back... Thursday, here I come! ]


'twas the night before filming when all through the crew
ran over-excitement and nerve-wrought, wet poo.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds
with visions of lemons bursting on their heads.

And John with his camera, and I with my script
slept anticipating, just ready to rip.

When up in my mind there arose such a clatter
"What if it won't work?!" and "Should this kid be fatter!?"

Then, what to my stupified eyes did appear?
Why, the ghost of Short Film; and her message? "Don't fear!"

She gave me the finger and then slapped me around,
then kicked me in the junk and I fell to the ground.

Then pointing and staring at/into my face,
she offered some comfort, her words borne of grace.

"Don't be such a pussy!" she screamed way too loud
"You wrote and direct this, you should be real proud."

I blinked once or twice, with her words sinking in,
then sat up from the floor and I raised up my chin.

"You're right Short Film spirit," I said to the ghost
"and if it's that bad, I'll just fix it in post!"

She smiled and then nodded, then went to my desk,
then she picked up my script that lay amongst the rest.

"Wait, hold on one minute," she blurted out fast,
"The Lemonade Stand-Off? I thought you'd wrote Crash!"