A Little Nice Helps A Lot.

Before Christmas, I got a nice email from a guy I worked with on "Backdraft"... which was 17 years ago if you can believe it. (I know I can't. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't take it off my resume ). His name is Stephen with a PH and a last name that I can pronounce but not spell. He was the Assistant Location Manager on the movie. I was the Assistant to the Producer back then. We all hung out during that production which was based in Chicago. My friend, Wileen, worked in the production office. And Jim Rodney was a PA. There was also Louisa, who worked for Ron Howard then... and still does. We all still talk. Well, Wileen, Jim Rodney, Louisa and I have talked regularly. When Jim Rodney (we all always call him by his first and last name-- I have no idea why. It just seems to fit. Actually, even he does... come to think of it) moved out here from Chicago, he slept on my couch or on my floor until he ended up renting a place from my landlord (not the peach of a landlord who owes me my security deposit. Another one... a good one). Well Jim Rodney still lives in that place in my old neighborhood. And he's an editor now and is doing really well. Wileen moved out from Chicago, too, a few years ago. She's line producing, producing, you name it. Honestly, she's one of the smartest people I know. She's from a family full of professors. She could be one too-- now, without a PhD if she wanted to-- but she likes making movies. Then over the holidays, I saw Jack McGee who's now on "Rescue Me." And a few years ago, I ran into Jason Gedrick at The Grove (which is a mall in LA that closely resembles Disneyland complete with dancing water and trolley). There was something about that movie. There was a lot of bonding. I know it was the first time that Todd Hallowell ever worked with Ron Howard. And all these years later, he still does. And Aldric Porter, too. I had a great time on that movie. It was a pretty remarkable experience. And job for a girl staight out of college. I say, girl, because I was 21 years-old, had no experience on a movie set. Or working with big name directors. I had just a few internships, a lot more confidence than I do now, and a UCLA degree. That job and production set the bar really high. My expectations, really high. Now, of course, I would kill to have a position like that. Hey, it even paid more than my last job.

So anyway, right before Christmas and over the last few weeks, I've talked to Stephen with a PH a few times. (Even though to me, he's still Steve, not Stephen). Anyway, he moved out here about a year ago. And he's kind of in transition with his life and career, too. And I guess that's why he understands me right now. And for some reason-- after 17 years, he sought me out. He said he thought there was something special about me. And that I stuck in his mind. That ever since "Backdraft", he's thought about me at least four or five times each year. Which is an incredibly nice thing to say to someone. Particularly someone who feels like their life is falling apart. And who isn't trying to hide it all that much. Well, last night he was great. He listened. I didn't want to talk to anyone, really. I warned him about my very dark place. And still, he wanted to talk. He said he told me stuff the last time we spoke that he never told anyone. And I listened. And helped. Not that it always has to be about reciprocity. But when you're a mess, it's nice to know that you can be there for someone in a time of need. No one wants to feel like they're being needy 100% of the time. Anyway, it's not romantic with us. (Although we did flirt 17 years ago) But it is... nice. Nice to hear a fresh perspective. Nice to hear that you can make an impression on someone. And that you can matter in some way. Even when you're in that very dark place.

So much like in yoga, it seems the down does oftentimes come back up. Even if it's just for a day. Nice helps. And it came in the guise of an email from my friend Tina last night. And one from Sonja, too. And in a message from Michael. And in a conversation with Laura. And even in a blog comment I read this morning from the ex-convict. (He calls himself the ex-con. I call him the ex-convict. We both like to be contrary to each other. Or maybe, we just are). It got my ass to yoga this morning. Yes, Orange County yoga. Which was an excellent class. Hard to believe I liked it so much. Then again, it had hip music. And was really challenging. It made me sweat. And the instructor was cool. It turns out she's based in LA during the week and comes to Huntington Beach on the weekends. Which is a place Laura randomly decided she wanted to go to because they have a dog beach. Go figure. I guess I'm not as cut off as I thought. Thank God for that. And for the nice emails and calls and comments. (Thank you, Kate, too! I still love the pineapple!)