Welcome to The Human Ride.

Because we're all in this together,
this blog is an ongoing chronicle of what it means to be human,
with a focus on what it means to be human ... cyclists.
The good. The bad. The ugly.
The joy of a ride on a lonely country road.
The pain of a cyclocross race.
The rage that comes from dealing with aggressive drivers.
The appreciation of a fine piece of cycling artistry.
And anything else that comes as a result of loving bikes
and living.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Big Manzana

OK, so I've been so busy with work and out of town that I haven't been riding. Riding my bike. It sucks, but while away, I've done a couple of runs, runs that have actually resulted in p-a-i-n.
I've been runnning here:

Which, coincidentally, is exactly where the next story took place a few days later ...

Joaquin Baca-Asay - Running Man

Today, while shooting a simple scene on the bank of the Hudson river, I witnessed the passionate intensity of Director Joaquín Baca-Asay. We had to shoot a few seconds of a woman walking a dog along the waterfront, answering her Blackberry. Simple. The usual foot, rollerblade and bike traffic was detained for no more than 30 seconds every time we shot a take, so that our actress would be in the clear.
Well, one über-achieving blonde would have none of our TV commercial-filming nonsense. She ran around our traffic-stopping First AD and proceeded to run right into our scene, ruining our take, and continuing on her "very important run."
Joaquin paused for half a second to look at her in amazement, got off the dolly, and, being the spry, agile, 5%-body-fat-terrier that he is, proceeded to bound after her. Yes! Even in a fashionable trench coat, mauve-genta scarf, snowboarder-chic knit cap and Garbo sunglasses, it took him 4.7 seconds to reach the running maven of self-righteousness. Joaquin then delivered an on-the-run lecture about the film industry's contribution to the economy of the City of New York and chastised the intruder for her lack of respect and patience. In spite of her profusion of "Stay the f**k away from me" protests and one final, irrelevant "I'm on call!" pronouncement, our director made his point. Wow, this should put him over the top for a DGA (Director's Guild of America) Award.

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