X Games is here! After a couple of weeks off, it’s that time again. And I love it. There’s a certain type of person that becomes addicted to production. It’s almost like the job and the lifestyle choose you and once you’re in, you’re in. Kind of like the Mafia: It’s tough to ever leave.
“Standing In a Neutral Zone, Living On Sleep Deprivation.”
I’ve been existing in some sort of time warp the past week or so. It’s a weird feeling to completely readjust your clock: “Hey, body…it’s not noon, it’s midnight. Time to go to sleep.”
“I pulled into Nazareth, was feeling ‘bout ½ past dead.”
Had it not been for a desk agent taking pity on me and keeping the gate open, I might still be in Doha.
Agent: “I have your confirmation number but not your ticket number”.
Me: “What’s the difference”
Agent: “One is a confirmation number and one is a ticket number”
Me: “I don’t like where this is going”
Agent: “Unfortunately, you’re not going anywhere without the ticket number” Continue reading
“Looking at your watch of good times, waiting in the station for the bus…”
We’re a few days out from the Finals and the light at the end of the tunnel – not to mention the unrelenting desert sun – is shining bright. As I begin to round up my belongings and mementos (it takes a couple of days to pack after being on location for seven weeks) I realize that I may never be in Doha again. Continue reading
“Dancin’ in the Streets”
National Day in Qatar puts Mardi Gras to shame. And there’s no booze.