Boys of Summer book Entry #27

June 10, 2004 - Bob

Manhattan, NY

We got to see a taping of David Letterman today -- another favorite of both of ours. When you enter the studio (well before the show), you are lightly interviewed by some of the show staff. They’re looking for the most energetic people to be up front for the cameras -- makes sense. Guess where Annamaria and I made sure we were? Make sense.

We told them about our upcoming baseball journey and they seemed really interested. I told them we’d gladly be the fill-in third guests if they needed one (always the giver, me). In my heart-of-heart fantasies I was hoping we might be able to do a weekly check-in on our tour like Biff or some of Dave’s other favorites have done throughout the years.

I also knew Dave came out early and asked the audience a question or two before the show started. I was determined to ask him about his how many baseball stadiums he’d been to and which was his favorite.

We got seated I was ready to hit him with it. He comes out on stage and he’s got about 90 seconds before he has to reset for the show (they tape it in time with the actual presentation of the show so everything is rigidly structured). He says hello then asks for questions. Damned if I don’t alligator arm my attempt (in other words, put my arm up half way). Another woman shoots hers up boldly asks her question (which was about whether or not Matthew Broderick, tonight’s guest, had brought along his wife Sarah Jessica Parker with him). Dave had a field day with her, burning the 90 seconds roasting her ignorance and leaving me and my alligator arm without satisfaction.

As we left New York, I thought back on the contest and meeting Stephen King: it was both a thrill and an validation of my belief in myself. It gives me something further to point to when I am feeling down or questioning my ability to climb whatever hill lies before me. The contest, as it was put up on the internet, was wide open. There were thousands of entries. We made a great little film, got selected as a finalist, pushed like hell to get people to vote for it and were rewarded.

It’s that kind of experience that I lean on when I get scared about how (or if) this film is going to “work”. We’re just a week or so away from hitting the road and I still wonder:

Where will we get the rest of the money from?

What if the tailgate parties don’t work out?

What if we get financially (or otherwise) stranded on the road?

Will we be able to shoot the things we need to shoot in order to make a coherent movie?

Does this story make any sense?

Will anyone care about it?

Is my dad going to be healthy enough to do this?

I hate that the money’s my biggest fear, but it is. There’s no turning back. We’re too close and we’ve done a lot, but I know I don’t have the ability to write checks on this project and I’m not going to have my dad do more than he is. He’s already donated their Ford Explorer to the cause as our travel vehicle because Annamaria and I weren’t able to land the RV or SUV we’d sought as a promo/rental.

I have hope and, as Andy Dufresne in “The Shawshank Redemption” told his good friend, Red: “Hope is not a bad thing.”