Eggnog in Vermont

Production is over and everyone is home safe. I met Morgan in Keene, New Hampshire at the McCafe. I missed breakfast by 11 minutes so I had to settle for a 10:41 chicken sandwich. Morgan was laughing and looked like he'd just seen a unicorn run a red light. I think we're all in a state of euphoric shock and disbelief that we actually made it to the other side of a successful production push.

We talked for awhile and got a rough plan in line. I'll be moving out to Maine by the middle of January. Then we'll log tapes for 3 weeks and buy a couple books on how to put together a documentary film so we can learn how to make the film while logging tapes. Then we'll do some heavy writing and thinking and begin the editing around February 15. Right now Independence Day is our goal to have a rough Director's Cut finished.

The Vanderbilt Investment Group will be offering us heavy artillery support.

I told Morgan that I'd like to believe that now the most stressful and difficult phase of the project is behind us, but that probably isn't true.

But never mind that. Christmas is in two days and we've all earned a little break. I just poured an eggnog and in a little while I'm going to wander down to the saloon and see who shows up. If you'd care to join me that would be fine.

A fine meal

Anne picked us up from the airport in Phuket. She and Stephenson used to work together in Manhattan but then she moved back home to Thailand awhile ago. She drove us to her house and her mom cooked us a fine dinner. Then we took motorbikes down to the festival. The temples have festivals to raise money. You can get beer in towers and little children horse around in inflatable plastic balls floating on shallow ponds for 10 Baht. It seems like there's a finite amount of breathable oxygen in those bubbles but what do I know I'm a film maker not a doctor. You get two little guys in there and I bet you got a solid 20 minutes before brain function begins to slacken. And by then they're dun tuckered out.

The scooters are manual shift with no clutch. You just let off the gas and stomp into the next gear. It's not the smoothest method of gathering speed but it will get you down the road. There are many potholes and cracks in the road but you just keep an eye on where you want to go. If you gawk at the potholes you're going right over the handlebars and straight to hell.

Last Days

Stephenson and Anne have gone snorkeling and camping on an island that is an hour from here by boat. We're a couple hours north of Phuket. Not sure where really. It doesn't matter. I decided to hang around in this hotel room instead of joining them in snorkeling. I don't want any more boat rides or van rides or old Scandinavian tourists in spandex, bloated and hairy and grotesque.

Gary is far away in Bangkok and maybe I'll start answering his phone calls tomorrow.

This morning the intern pulled a guitar from nowhere and started strumming. Where did you get that, I asked. It came from the sky, he said. I laid in my bed until 1:30pm and did nothing and wanted to do nothing.

There was stale bread and Nutella and I stared at the ceiling and wondered about the numbness that came down like a fog.

Blending In

By combining moves remembered from his Billy Blanks Tae Bo tapes with a deep passion for high end still photography, Stephenson seamlessly integrates into the fabric of Southeast Asian Culture.

Yankee-3-Pistol on Patrol

We humped through an angry jungle thick with undergrowth and children.

Headed South to Da Nang

We took an overnight train from Hanoi to Da Nang. The Old Earth breathed terror and beauty and a man sat on top of the train with a fist raised in Defiance.

We arranged a van and a driver through the travel agent in Hanoi. He welcomed us warmly to Da Nang.

Production Summary

TRAIN TO LAOS

BACK ON THE GRID

Back in Bangkok. There isn't much in the way of high speed wi-fi between Hanoi and Saigon and we moved at such a blistering pace that I didn't get a chance to hop on the intraweb and stab away at the keyboard for all y'all. So everybody relax, we're all safe and alive and out of lame communsim with minds and spirits intact.

Morgan switched his flight on account of the strange situation at the Bangkok airport. He flew home from Saigon and made it safely with the tapes. The footage is safely back in America. Everybody breathe. All things accounted for, he was probably lugging about $50,000 worth of investment in that tinny little briefcase. Morgan's going to start casting around for grants, which we shouldn't have any problem getting at this point. We made it through the most difficult and often crippling stages of production without any institutional help whatever and now people with their hands on the big money will finally understand that this thing is getting made whether they believe in it or not. And some of them will believe.

Vietnam was a rugged and beautiful country. We took an overnight train from Hanoi to Da Nang and then hooked up with a driver who took us the rest of the way down the coast and inland to Saigon. We made it from the top to the bottom of Vietnam in about 10 days time. Lots of long van rides over bomb crater roads. We pushed up into the central highlands and saw waterfalls coming from fog in the sky and distant valleys laid with shag carpet growth that was new shades of green.

We sat down with a formet Viet Cong soldier and he said there is no room for hate in the heart.

The wi-fi at the A-One Inn isn't working too good right now and they're going to have to sort that out before I can get some pictures up.