Thundersnow

95 North

I left the office in Alexandria at 4:45.
I arrived home in Baltimore at 8:45.

The snow was coming down in pounds. Thick and heavy, like Italian ice. The sky ripped with booms and flashes of light, the sky was so turmoiled, it had turned to a thundersnowstorm.
The roads were a mess.

The first person I helped was a young guy in an Acura with rims. We were still in Alexandria, and he was not moving at all. He kept flooring it, which caused him to sit there and spin. I taught him how to ease into the traction, and pushed him out of the rut.

The next was on the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. An Iranian woman was pulled off to the side, and couldn’t get back onto the (semi) plowed part of the road. I helped her ease back onto the road, and gave her directions back to Alexandria (she was going the wrong way).

The next guy was a soldier, spun off to the side of the road in a Mazda coupe. He had stopped on the shoulder because he blew his wiper motor, then spun into the ditch when he went to get started again. I pulled him out part of the way with the Subaru, and then a Mexican truck driver yanked him out the rest of the way. Nobody stopped save for a highway worker in a yellow SUV, who merely slowed enough to yell at us for getting stuck. I drove down into the gully to push him up, then crawled back out again to pull him up. My Subaru is amazing. The soldier was incredulous that we had stopped to help him. He passed me several times as I stopped for other people later on, staring out wide-eyed that I had stopped again.

The highway was packed with UPS trucks for some reason. It was very hard to pass them, because the sent up thick sheets of slush from their front wheels. It was like driving through a carwash.

Next was a lady in a pickup truck. Well, outside of a pickup truck. She had been standing in the snow for over an hour, and was covered heard to toe in snow. She had stopped to clear snow off her windshield, and had gotten locked out. She had borrowed the truck, and hadn’t realized it locked when she got out. And so she stood outside, with no phone, freezing, snow caking her dreadlocks. She had borrowed another earlier Samaritan’s phone to call for roadside assistance, but they said the wait was 3 hours.
As I pulled up, a pair of cops pulled up, and yelled at us through their speakers to get off the road. When I told them she was stuck and locked out, they stood there with folded arms and suggested we break the windows. The woman and I found a paving stone while the cops stood there blankly. I asked her if she was sure… “HECK YES, I’m sure!” She yelled, “This ain’t MY truck! I need to get out of here!” I smashed her passenger window and popped the locks on the driver side. She asked my name, glared at the cops, and thanked me.

The next was a guy in a Honda CRV. He cut somebody off, then realizing his mistake, overcompensated. He swerved across 4 lanes, then turned too sharply again, swerved across 4 lanes again, narrowly missing 3 cars, and spun 180º, ending up the wrong way in the fast lane. I put on my blinkers and flashed my brakes, and moved gently over and blocked the traffic for him. All the cars stopped behind me. The guy panicked again, hit the gas, and spun around wildly, narrowly missed a tanker truck that stopped for him, and then straightened himself and drove on. I passed him, and he nervously waved. I waved back.

The next was a Nigerian girl in a tiny Geo with bald tires. Every time she drove forward, she spun in circles, and was petrified. Not only that, but when she tried driving slow (she could only do about 5-10mph) SUVs would come up behind her and flash their highbeams at her, scaring her even more. I gently taught her how to ease on the gas, then put on my blinkers and drove behind her to clear the way to her exit. She smiled and gave me the thumbs up.

The next was an extremely well dressed woman in a white Mercedes. She was stuck, but was too scared to open her window for me to talk to her. Unwilling to accept help, I had to leave her.

The next was a woman in a gigantic Chrysler 300c luxury car with rims. Gospel music blared from her car, and she was stuck on a slope at a 90 degree angle blocking the 695 exit. She kept stepping on the gas really hard, and nearly slid into a guardrail. It took me and 3 other men to push her out. Finally on her way, she swore to buy better tires and thanked us for stopping.

The next was the Ethiopian man who works at the gas station near my house. His car was stuck on the corner near a drain. His tires were so bald he just spun. I got in his car and rocked it until it was out of traffic, and in a semi parking spot. A white guy stood on the steps of the gas station across the street and did nothing.

The lightning from the storm took out electricity for blocks and blocks, and set a house on fire up the street. 8 firetrucks outfitted with snow chains were on the scene when I got there.

The last was a minivan trying to get up my street. A girl was driving; and me and two guys helped maneuver the van into a rut to drive through up the street. It took us about a half an hour to get it going, but we finally got her on her way.

What a night!

Martin Luther King Jr.

President Lyndon B. Johnson and Rev. Dr. Marti...
Image via Wikipedia

Only three other persons have national holidays in the United States: George Washington, Christopher Columbus (who in my opinion, doesn’t deserve a holiday), and Jesus. King was the first private citizen to ever receive this honour.

People began calling for a day of memorial immediately after his death in 1968. However, Jesse Helms, Ronald Reagan, and John McCain all voted against the holiday, which caused it not to be passed the first time around. Ronald Reagan remained opposed to the holiday to the point where Congress had to go above his head to get it passed. McCain’s state of Arizona was widely criticized for being racially intolerant by the rest of the nation.
In fact, it was so hard to pass, it didn’t actually get finalized until 1983 (the year I was born).

Though Mississippi and Virginia still struggle with celebrating it (some choosing to honour the legacy of the Confederacy instead), even certain places outside the United States annually celebrate the day, including Toronto and Hiroshima.

The man was, for a good portion of his active life, a targeted enemy of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Now, being a federal holiday, his legacy effectively shuts down all government buildings and banks for an entire day.

Your arguments for not being able to make a difference in the world carry no weight.

Find Michael Mullen a Job

Bill Chapter 4: Homecoming from AMP Film Productions on Vimeo.

My good friend Michael Mullen is looking for a job as a videographer, and so I thought I’d pop his resume on the blog to see if anyone know if any openings.

His resumé is here (and pasted below).

His Vimeo account is here.

Michael G. Mullen Jr.

508-510-9003 – michaelmullen@verizon.net
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
544 West Washington Street – Hanson, MA 02341
“To obtain a position as a videographer/cinematographer and/or video editor
in a design firm or production company”

Education

__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Bachelor of Arts, Communication Studies
Concentration: Media Studies and Communication Technologies
Honors: Magna Cum Laude; GPA 3.7
Massasoit Community College, Canton, MA
Associate Degree of Art & Graphic Design
Concentration: Graphic Design
Minor: Fine Arts
GPA 3.0

Related Experience

__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Brandenberg Werewolf (in production) Purple Turtle Productions, Lakeville MA
May 2010 – Present
B-Unit Cinematographer and Avid/Final Cut editor for the film. Production Assistant. Acting as one of the main supporting characters (Nicolai).
Founder, AMP Film Productions, Hanson MA
December 2008 – Present
A small personal project group of film enthusiasts. Primary cinematographer/videographer and editor for all films
produced by AMP Film Productions. Create, edit, and adjust all music and sound. Direct all films. Writer of all concepts,
scripts, and shot lists.
Videographer and Editor Intern, Purple Turtle Productions, Lakeville MA
June – September 2010
Videographer, B-Unit Videographer, and Avid/Final Cut editor for clients’ projects . Production Assistant.
Photo Assistant, Weymouth Design Inc., Boston MA
July – September 2010
Managed the set up, break down, and transportation of equipment for photographer and Michael Weymouth.
Television Studio Assistant, Bridgewater State University, Bridgewater MA
2008 – 2010
Ran control room operations including video tape recorder, video and audio mixers, digital video effects, teleprompter, studio lighting, and video monitors. Assisted in directing productions both in the control room and on the studio floor. Operated all cameras as well as assisted in setting up the cameras, microphones, and lighting. Videographer and Editor, South Shore Community Church, Bridgewater MA Set up, filmed, and edited several short documentaries.
Videographer and Editor, Fokus Media, Brockton MA
June 2006 – August 2007
Operated cameras in the videography of special occasions. Production Assistant. Editor and producer of DVDs and photo albums for all video projects.
January 2011
May 2000
2007

Additional Work Experience

__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Advocate, New England Village Inc., Pembroke, MA
February 2007 – Present
A residential campus for adults with mental disabilities. Manage three adults in a group home, whom have varying mental disabilities. Create Individual Specialized Plans for each resident. Assist in the daily routines of living, socializing, and personal hygiene of each resident. Transcribe, prepare, and administer medication. Actively volunteer in and/or create educational and recreational activities for the residents. Participate in training for medication certification, communication skills for both residents and their family, crisis intervention, and cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

Software Skills

__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Operating Systems:
Windows OS (all) proficient
Mac OS proficient
Video:
Avid Editor
Final Cut Studio Editor
After Effects
FXHome
Sony Vegas Editor
Image:
Quark Express
Adobe Photoshop
Illustrator
Sound:
Audacity Sound Editor
Soundtrack Pro

Christmas Presents, McDonalds, AntiFreeze and Split/Second

Split Second: Velocity
Image via Wikipedia

Tamika drove me to work yesterday.

The kids got so many presents at the Pinkney Christmas that we needed to take a second trip. Our car had already been full from 3 weeks of travel in Canada, so there wasn’t much room at all. Miss Apit (our neighbor) let the kids stay overnight with her. After dropping me off at work, she headed north, and met her Dad in Delaware, and loaded up the Subaru with the gifts. It took her most of the day to get there and back, sadly, traffic was completely miserable, and she was late picking me up.

We caved and picked up McDonalds, too tired to figure out anything else. We stopped to get gas on the way home, and I realized the coolant was empty. The gas station attendant let us use his hose to fill it up, and I hopped a fence and borrowed a cup from a Chinese carryout next door to mix the anti-freeze. That stuff weirds me out! Whatever chemicals are in it make it practically glow under any light.

We put the kids right to bed when we got home, and then watched another couple episodes of Caprica. Still like it, though it’s got a couple vulgar scenes. Tamika and I have also been playing Split/Second (which is oddly made by Disney?) against each other. I’m still in the lead, but she’s catching up… 🙂

Robbery, Vectors, Tilapia and Caprica

Caprica (TV series)
Image via Wikipedia

Went back to work yesterday.

Technically, I worked last week (for a day) and designed some wireframes on Monday, but yesterday was in the office. After the extended stay in Canada, if felt a little surreal.

Making it even more surreal was the fact that the office had been broken into over Christmas. The suite Brightline Interactive shares with MRB had gotten crowbarred open, and then the office doors for three of the offices that MRB owns got crowbarred too. Some of you might remember my house getting robbed last Christmas while we were upstairs, so all the fingerprint dust and entering damage was strangely familiar to me.

Regardless, I got to work on a really cool prospective project for a big theme restaurant chain and do a lot of vector drawing for it. It took the whole day to do, so it was kind of therapeutic to do.

I stayed a bit late to get it done, though, and my head hurt coming home. Tamika made the most amazing baked cheese Tilapia and Indian-style spinach for dinner. After dinner, we opened my Mom and Dad’s present to Nya (we had gotten it late, and then had gotten caught up in the chaos of packing). They had a lot of fun opening it, and I filmed it to put it up on youtube for my parents (I’ll post it later).

Afterwards, I did a bit of work and Tamika and I settled in and watched the first season of Caprica (the prequel to Battlestar Galactica). I actually kinda liked it. It is very different from Battlestar (which we just finished and really loved), but it’s got an intriguing storyline. I know Syfy cancelled it later, but we’ll see.

Enhanced by Zemanta

The death of Mac and Cheese

Got up around 9:15 yesterday. Somehow I heard the kids Nya knocking on her door, so I got up and told her I’d come and get her after I took a shower.

It didn’t snow very much yet, only a light dusting on the roof outside our window. We had left Perkasie late Saturday night because they were predicting a bad storm, and Philly got hammered with about a foot and a half, but Baltimore only got grazed.

There was no fresh groceries yet, so I fed the kids eggs and dry cereal (their idea) and cooked bacon (on our new Foreman grill!) and eggs for us. Tamika wasn’t feeling all that hot, so I made her coffee and brought it up with breakfast in bed.

I let the kids play while I started putting things away from the trip. It’s amazing how much junk there is to take care of after being on the road for so long!

I pulled the TV away from the wall. The new Xbox has a DVD player in it, so I knew I could eliminate a lot of wiring back there, and possibly unify the sound system.
Turns out the Xbox has an HD jack on the back, and with a little finagling, I was even able to set it up to play movies streamed from my computer.

I then worked out with the fitness program (the primary reason we got it). It’s pretty cool, it analyses my body and figures out what the best workout and intensity is for me, and also corrects my form and posture.
I’m about 60 pounds (maybe more) overweight, so I really need to make some changes. I’m taking my moms advice and cutting carbs out of my diet. This is hard for a guy who once lived on Mac and Cheese, but I gotta do it.

Home.

Finally home, for realz this time. Can’t help but marvel at Gods wonder. Everyone is safe, we had no life threatening travel troubles, our car runs great, and even though we’re low on dough and couldn’t get much for each other, our kids were blessed with two Christmases and we got each other toys from the heart.
We have a warm house, healthy, happy, and grateful kids, and we have each other. My God is good.

Star-Crossed

Star Crossed

May 13, 2003

My first poetry submission.

I am not a professional poet, so; if my beat is off, my grammer is bad, and it’s too sing-songy… I’m very sorry.
Those aren’t exactly my goals when I write this. I write this because I have to. If I kept it inside, I would explode. People are cruel, and I don’t need any more reminder of this if that is what is going through your head. (I will probably respond with another poem anyway… :) (Smile) )

If you ARE an english person (English isn’t exactly my first language) and would like to HELP me, do it by private messages. But don’t rip me up here.

Now; about the poem.

This was written at a very rough time in my life, I was in dismay as my first love completely abandoned me. I appeared to take it all in stride at first, so as to protect her feelings, but this poem showed how hurt I really was inside.

One heart cannot make it alone
Time and time it’s proven again
Feelings renewed when you’re gone
When you feel it should be the end

Even though I realized
The heartache was from you,
I just couldn’t let go
I just couldn’t turn back
I just couldn’t start anew,

Because you broken off a piece of my heart,
And made it a part of yours
Instead of both of us sharing one heart,
You seem to end up with more.

When somebody falls in love
Their hearts must be shared
But if one doesn’t get enough,
That means the other doesn’t care

[interlude]
For me it seems
That you ripped at the seams
And tore at the roots
what might have been

In my case you lied
In this you hurt me
Your words cut like a knife
and tears bled from me

I gave you a heart
Already cracked and scarred
And although you didn’t know it,
You drew tears from eyes once starred

Do you know what’s it’s like
To cry because your heart aches
Do you know the feeling of pain
Every time my heart breaks

I looked at my friends
They only added the pain
Every one of them was happy
They only brought it up again

They were all together,
And had been more than I could count
They said “How is it a guy like you
Could be for so long love without?”

[endlude]
You once called me star-crossed
Now I call myself soul lost
Because you feel the price of love
Is too high a cost.

Back Once Again

Back Once Again

June 7, 2003

This was written when I was loosing my almost ever-present bouyant personality. It seems strange now, how the person who betrayed me the most boosted me the greatest. I’m forever indepted to her, and yet she hurt me so badly…

Stories for other times.

The poem is a reminder for me now, whenever I’m feeling down, or if I’m loosing my grip. I reminds me not to focus so much on the opposite sex, on stuff, on money, on other people. One simple advice always lifts my spirits: Look Up.

The silence rested in me
I had peace once again
Chaos blinded with the ragged leaves
Brought me to the inevitable end

I released the grip
I ceased to trip
My heart released it’s hold on my ribs and sank back to rest
The storm blew me away

Out of the darkness by the nape of my neck I was flung
Into hurricanes of light
At wonder I looked around and then at myself
And then cringed at the awful sight

I saw the worst things one could imagine
As I stood alone in the air
The light blasted through my soul
and behind me left a filthy shadow hanging there

I looked over
She pointed up
He took my hand
He filled my cup

With ripping iodine
And a searing pain
He scraped away the filth
And flushed it down the drain

“You’re free”
He said, with a gentle smile
I curled and sighed softly,
My timbers shaking as I did

“Just remember that you are not the maker of your gifts” He said with a stern but forgiving smile
And once more my eyes for the millionth time opened their lids

I ventured out into the well-known space
Knowing all too well as I did
the instability of my own footsteps
could only be sure if I stood in the same place He did.

Could I steal you from myself

Could I Steal You From Myself

June 19, 2003

Last night I had a dream that was too real for me to handle. It took over my entire being, and engulfed me in a longing for that dream to simply be true.

It might be, given that 85% of my dreams turn into Deja Vu.

….unless I talk about them….

Last night, I dreamt Caroline walked up me, and pressed a note into my palm. IT was thick, many sheets folded many many times. It was scented, as her letters always had been. Not purposely, of course, that was just way she smelled.
I knew immediately it was a dream, not because of the emotion I was getting from her (I usually wake myself up from revulsion if I have dreams about her loving me) but because of mental imagery that kept flashing up.

A sequence kept playing over and over. We planted a small tree together, by a small brook. She rips it up, and walks off. I sob over the ruined tree for a while, and then lift it up and walk slowly away. She eventually returns and looks at the hole in the ground where the tiny tree once stood.

This played over and over; a dream within a dream.

I slid open the letter, and read the first few lines. It was heartfelt, not simple, not flippant. It was the Caroline I knew.
She looked deeply at me, and apologized. It was so strong, I almost forgave her immediatly. I couldn’t contain the emotion, turned away, and told her I would read it. She departed, leaving me clutching the letter.

Then I woke up.

I sat in the dim morning light, looking at my hands where moments before I had the letter that would have given the answers to all my turmloil. It was gone. I could still feel the paper on my fingers.

I could have at that point fallen back to sleep and began to read the letter. But I held back. I don’t want to live in a fantasy. All I wanted was real love.

The dream hit me so hard, I checked out some old poetry I had written for her.

Under the sparkling bridge
I wondered to the stars
Could I steal you from myself?
Could I really go that far?

What if I could meet you all over again
See you from a distance and move to be your friend
Begin a relationship with the hopes of never end
And then give as much love as I have within me to spend.

What if I could see your eyes for the first time filled with joy once again
When I told you it was only you that I adored
And what if I could see your smile brand new again
The first time I ran ahead and caught the door

What if I could taste the first kiss on your cheek again
And look into you eyes during a starry night hoping it would never end
What if I could receive once more the letters that you the first time send
What if I could find all over, my first found, best found, always friend.

I love you enough to steal you away
From myself so I could love you all over again
And if I could have my own way,
I would keep you happy and each moment would never end

But now when I look into your eyes
And I hear the sound of your voice
And how all the little moments added up to this

And how each hug grew stronger, each short moment grew longer, And I realize that this is something that I could not miss

Because the present is more beautiful than anything in the past
And if God is willing the future is more beautiful still and creates something that lasts

So live in the present
And remember times recorded above
And hope for the future
And You I will always Love.