07-08-2016, 05:44 PM
My parents were supposed to be gone for the weekend, leaving me in peace. But because I tried to kill my mother by leaving windows open during the heatwave, they stayed home. I also got to witness the after-effects of spontaneous diarrhea.
The morning birthday breakfast in the Cruz almost negated the effects of the birthday dinner with the parents. My mother did gift me by not attending dinner at Hong Fu's because of her ongoing bronchitis battle. Thankfully, I didn't have to pretend I was having a good time in her presence. Nor did I have to do the thing I hate most which is the after dinner fortune cookie reading. It's amazing my mother's ability to ruin even the lightest moments.
But I digress.
Monday was Magay day. For some reason HK does not believe in the power of maps and my ability to find places on these maps. His plan was to meet up near Mr. Magay's house and then caravan through the maze of streets to the hidden location. I balked and said I would just meet him at the house. He told me 'Good Luck'.
So, the morning started poorly. I show up at the house and proceed to unload the car. HK decides it is more important to talk Mr. Magay than to help unload the gear mountain from my car. Even better, the both of them decide to chat right where I need to set up the equipment. Since they aren't helping, I move them to another room. In my mind, it should be set up first, chat second.
These are in the moment impression. I haven't gone back and reviewed the recordings for content, only for sound and picture quality. Mr. Magay didn't have a lot of great stories or anecdotes about Piller. It could be he just isn't a great story teller. Plus, I think I killed him with the list of questions I generated for HK. I spent a lot of time trying to get to the roots of how he learned Sabre and his early teachers. By the time we got to the Piller questions, I think he was done. Plus, I am asking him to come up with stories from 50 years ago. If I had to come up with stories from 50 years ago, they would be about my mother's womb. And nobody wants those stories.
Technically, a lot of the video shots came out soft, a hair fuzzy. Curse me. My batteries kept dying and I think when I would pop in the news ones, I would shift focus just a hair. Fortunately, I shot two cameras and while the shots are soft in one, they are a little crisper in others. I'll kick myself more in September when I'm sorting all the footage.
Tuesday, I loaded the car and headed to Oregon to the Charles Selberg Institute. Probably better known as Mr. Headley's million dollar cabin in the woods. It's really nice. Since I wasn't filming John McDougall until Wednesday, I did a leisurely set up of the equipment. I got to make sure everything was nice and pretty. After that, I spent the time hanging out. I walked down to the Buddhist retreat center with the drone and flew around. As I walked down the railroad tracks. I must have spooked at least eight deer all sleeping in the shade.
HK showed up with enough food for the week. I had brought leftovers from the house, too. So, yet again, too much food. HK's friend Deborah Allen showed up for a sleep over. It was hard to get a word in edgewise with her. Eventually, I gave up and went up to my closet, slash bedroom. It is the only room that has a door. It now also sports a sleeping couch, so I'm no longer on a cushion on the floor. The only problem is the ridge of metal that rides down the center of the bed.
Wednesday was John McDougall day. McDougall actually took lessons from Piller when he first came to San Francisco. At one point Piller was teaching McDougall and Selberg how to teach Piller's methods of Sabre Fencing. Unfortunately, those notes have long been misplaced.
The interview was going along swimmingly. McDougall seemed to have given a lot of thought to his memories of Piller. McDougall does have a lot of stories, the problem is getting them out of him. Again, he is in his eighties. But he was giving good stuff. Right up until the time he called for a break. He was feeling a bit odd and needed some food. HK ran from the salle where we were shooting to get some bread.
By the time HK came back, McDougall was stretched out on the floor covered with sweat. Fortunately, Deborah is a nurse and took over. She checked his pulse. Wiped his fevered brow. McDougall said he was having a sugar crash. He had had them before but never to this extent.
It took McDougall about 30 minutes to recover. In my selfish way, I thought this might be the end of the interview. But he rallied and wanted to complete the conversation. He kept telling us talking about fencing was one of his favorite things to do. While McDougall regained his composure, Deborah started peppering him with fencing questions herself. Hey! We are up here to ask the questions. Let's not wear him out with your foolishness, woman. I was not in a very positive frame of mind towards Deborah despite her care of Mr. McDougall.
Well, we finished the interview and John quickly departed. There was a plan for HK to do some fencing with John's driver, Duncan. But I think McDougall was worn out and it was time to go. There was a weird scene between Deborah and Duncan about who was going to take McDougall home. Deborah wanted to do it so Duncan could stay and fence. But it was weird. Both cars left together.
If I had given it more thought, I could have planned to travel back to the Bay Area right then. But I didn't and spent a rather boring afternoon hanging around the cabin. Part of the problem was I had a lot of energy to do things on the internet and not a very good internet connection.
Popped awake at 3:30am and got in my car to drive home. It was a ten hour jaunt to Los Angeles. Oddly, both HK and I had breakfast at the same Black Bear diner, only 3 hours apart. I was only 4 miles from my house when I ran into the accident on the 5. It added an additional 45 minutes to the trip.
Friday I prepped the Queen on her duties for Saturday. HK wasn't coming down for the interview so the Queen was taking his place. She was not having a good time with the Hungarian names.
Saturday, I interviewed Dan DeChaine at his home in Claremont. My excellent planning got us there way to early. But Mr. Dechaine was very gracious about it, meeting us in the driveway to invite us in. He took the interview seriously, going so far as to dress in a suit. My favorite touch were his Olympic Ring adorned socks.
Mr. DeChaine was sporting a massive gouge in his head,too. Never did get around to asking him how it happened. I'm already of thinking of ways to digitally cover that up in post.
Mr. DeChaine has some great stories, but not as much information about Piller as I could hope. A lot of these people were just catching Piller at the end of his career and can't give me a lot of substance about his youth and formative years. Despite that, Mr. Dechaine told us a lot of great stuff. I got the gruesome story about Smirnov's death. I got two fine stories about D'Asaro, including one about cheating at the Olympics. Unfortunately it is full of factual inaccuracies. But it is a good story. Best of all, I think I got him in focus.
I spent the July Fourth holiday not sleeping as Maeve feared for her life from the constant fireworks noises. She would come to the side of the bed where I was trying to go to sleep and hit me in the head with her sharp paws.
Tuesday, I resumed work. I spent a good four hours balancing the books for all the expenditures. I uploaded film to the Hard Drives. I bought more gear. I played with the new battery powered Lighting Kit I bought. It was cheaper to buy it online than direct from the manufacturer.
At this point, I'm trying to finalize the details for Budapest, too. I'm close to getting our car and driver, but it seems like it takes two to three days to get an email response. I'm having the same problem with the translator. I send emails out and I hear nothing for a week.
But Mr. Derek Cotton has put me in touch with one of his friends he thinks he can help the project. He is on the FIE board and he is a director of the IMF. So, not a lot of clout.
On Saturday, I'm interviewing a friend of Piller's from San Francisco, Mr. Frank Iszak. Iszak is also Hungarian and escaped from Hungary about 5 months before the uprising. His big claim to fame is that he was part of the first plane hijacking ever. Yes, he was the hijacker. I don't know how much he knows about Piller's exploits, but I'm hoping he knows everything. Hope and springs and eternal. Yep. Although, in his defense, Iszak did write a book about his hijacking experiences so I'm hoping he might have a few stories to tell.
That will be the last West Coast Interview. Next Friday, I'm loading up the Nissan Quest and heading to NYC for more interviews. The closer I get to that point, the less sleep I'm planning on getting.
The morning birthday breakfast in the Cruz almost negated the effects of the birthday dinner with the parents. My mother did gift me by not attending dinner at Hong Fu's because of her ongoing bronchitis battle. Thankfully, I didn't have to pretend I was having a good time in her presence. Nor did I have to do the thing I hate most which is the after dinner fortune cookie reading. It's amazing my mother's ability to ruin even the lightest moments.
But I digress.
Monday was Magay day. For some reason HK does not believe in the power of maps and my ability to find places on these maps. His plan was to meet up near Mr. Magay's house and then caravan through the maze of streets to the hidden location. I balked and said I would just meet him at the house. He told me 'Good Luck'.
So, the morning started poorly. I show up at the house and proceed to unload the car. HK decides it is more important to talk Mr. Magay than to help unload the gear mountain from my car. Even better, the both of them decide to chat right where I need to set up the equipment. Since they aren't helping, I move them to another room. In my mind, it should be set up first, chat second.
These are in the moment impression. I haven't gone back and reviewed the recordings for content, only for sound and picture quality. Mr. Magay didn't have a lot of great stories or anecdotes about Piller. It could be he just isn't a great story teller. Plus, I think I killed him with the list of questions I generated for HK. I spent a lot of time trying to get to the roots of how he learned Sabre and his early teachers. By the time we got to the Piller questions, I think he was done. Plus, I am asking him to come up with stories from 50 years ago. If I had to come up with stories from 50 years ago, they would be about my mother's womb. And nobody wants those stories.
Technically, a lot of the video shots came out soft, a hair fuzzy. Curse me. My batteries kept dying and I think when I would pop in the news ones, I would shift focus just a hair. Fortunately, I shot two cameras and while the shots are soft in one, they are a little crisper in others. I'll kick myself more in September when I'm sorting all the footage.
Tuesday, I loaded the car and headed to Oregon to the Charles Selberg Institute. Probably better known as Mr. Headley's million dollar cabin in the woods. It's really nice. Since I wasn't filming John McDougall until Wednesday, I did a leisurely set up of the equipment. I got to make sure everything was nice and pretty. After that, I spent the time hanging out. I walked down to the Buddhist retreat center with the drone and flew around. As I walked down the railroad tracks. I must have spooked at least eight deer all sleeping in the shade.
HK showed up with enough food for the week. I had brought leftovers from the house, too. So, yet again, too much food. HK's friend Deborah Allen showed up for a sleep over. It was hard to get a word in edgewise with her. Eventually, I gave up and went up to my closet, slash bedroom. It is the only room that has a door. It now also sports a sleeping couch, so I'm no longer on a cushion on the floor. The only problem is the ridge of metal that rides down the center of the bed.
Wednesday was John McDougall day. McDougall actually took lessons from Piller when he first came to San Francisco. At one point Piller was teaching McDougall and Selberg how to teach Piller's methods of Sabre Fencing. Unfortunately, those notes have long been misplaced.
The interview was going along swimmingly. McDougall seemed to have given a lot of thought to his memories of Piller. McDougall does have a lot of stories, the problem is getting them out of him. Again, he is in his eighties. But he was giving good stuff. Right up until the time he called for a break. He was feeling a bit odd and needed some food. HK ran from the salle where we were shooting to get some bread.
By the time HK came back, McDougall was stretched out on the floor covered with sweat. Fortunately, Deborah is a nurse and took over. She checked his pulse. Wiped his fevered brow. McDougall said he was having a sugar crash. He had had them before but never to this extent.
It took McDougall about 30 minutes to recover. In my selfish way, I thought this might be the end of the interview. But he rallied and wanted to complete the conversation. He kept telling us talking about fencing was one of his favorite things to do. While McDougall regained his composure, Deborah started peppering him with fencing questions herself. Hey! We are up here to ask the questions. Let's not wear him out with your foolishness, woman. I was not in a very positive frame of mind towards Deborah despite her care of Mr. McDougall.
Well, we finished the interview and John quickly departed. There was a plan for HK to do some fencing with John's driver, Duncan. But I think McDougall was worn out and it was time to go. There was a weird scene between Deborah and Duncan about who was going to take McDougall home. Deborah wanted to do it so Duncan could stay and fence. But it was weird. Both cars left together.
If I had given it more thought, I could have planned to travel back to the Bay Area right then. But I didn't and spent a rather boring afternoon hanging around the cabin. Part of the problem was I had a lot of energy to do things on the internet and not a very good internet connection.
Popped awake at 3:30am and got in my car to drive home. It was a ten hour jaunt to Los Angeles. Oddly, both HK and I had breakfast at the same Black Bear diner, only 3 hours apart. I was only 4 miles from my house when I ran into the accident on the 5. It added an additional 45 minutes to the trip.
Friday I prepped the Queen on her duties for Saturday. HK wasn't coming down for the interview so the Queen was taking his place. She was not having a good time with the Hungarian names.
Saturday, I interviewed Dan DeChaine at his home in Claremont. My excellent planning got us there way to early. But Mr. Dechaine was very gracious about it, meeting us in the driveway to invite us in. He took the interview seriously, going so far as to dress in a suit. My favorite touch were his Olympic Ring adorned socks.
Mr. DeChaine was sporting a massive gouge in his head,too. Never did get around to asking him how it happened. I'm already of thinking of ways to digitally cover that up in post.
Mr. DeChaine has some great stories, but not as much information about Piller as I could hope. A lot of these people were just catching Piller at the end of his career and can't give me a lot of substance about his youth and formative years. Despite that, Mr. Dechaine told us a lot of great stuff. I got the gruesome story about Smirnov's death. I got two fine stories about D'Asaro, including one about cheating at the Olympics. Unfortunately it is full of factual inaccuracies. But it is a good story. Best of all, I think I got him in focus.
I spent the July Fourth holiday not sleeping as Maeve feared for her life from the constant fireworks noises. She would come to the side of the bed where I was trying to go to sleep and hit me in the head with her sharp paws.
Tuesday, I resumed work. I spent a good four hours balancing the books for all the expenditures. I uploaded film to the Hard Drives. I bought more gear. I played with the new battery powered Lighting Kit I bought. It was cheaper to buy it online than direct from the manufacturer.
At this point, I'm trying to finalize the details for Budapest, too. I'm close to getting our car and driver, but it seems like it takes two to three days to get an email response. I'm having the same problem with the translator. I send emails out and I hear nothing for a week.
But Mr. Derek Cotton has put me in touch with one of his friends he thinks he can help the project. He is on the FIE board and he is a director of the IMF. So, not a lot of clout.
On Saturday, I'm interviewing a friend of Piller's from San Francisco, Mr. Frank Iszak. Iszak is also Hungarian and escaped from Hungary about 5 months before the uprising. His big claim to fame is that he was part of the first plane hijacking ever. Yes, he was the hijacker. I don't know how much he knows about Piller's exploits, but I'm hoping he knows everything. Hope and springs and eternal. Yep. Although, in his defense, Iszak did write a book about his hijacking experiences so I'm hoping he might have a few stories to tell.
That will be the last West Coast Interview. Next Friday, I'm loading up the Nissan Quest and heading to NYC for more interviews. The closer I get to that point, the less sleep I'm planning on getting.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm