Dream Soaked Paper Towels

I never wanted to be one of those people completely dominated by the consumption of coffee. I don’t even know when the transition from:

“What a treat to have time for a cup of coffee this morning,” to,

“WHAT?! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR A CUP OF COFFEE THIS MORNING!!” even happened.

But, it happened, all the same. And, now I’m one of coffee’s sad, sad, little minions.

But I’m jumping ahead of myself. Let’s back track, shall we? The guy who played Lucius Malfoy in Harry Potter was a star on the show that I was doing background work for. I’m sure he has a real name, but I don’t really care what it is. He is Malfoy, and any other role he plays in his life is just Lucius Malfoy acting like someone else. Being within touching distance of anything related to Harry Potter is the only ingredient I ever need for a magical, perfect day. So, when I woke up that morning, I had no expectations other than pure, pure-blood, Malfoy-associated bliss.

I was booked as a uniformed cop - which is hilarious. I couldn’t take down a squirrel if I wanted, let alone the rough and tough of the streets of Los Angeles. But a job is a job. They must have seen the fighting spirit of my soul in my headshot.

I woke up way too late, which is never a good start to a wondrous day. Lateness is a form of arrogance, Dr. Phil says. But I was willing to overlook the bad start because I figured - of all people -Lucius was someone who would appreciate a little arrogance. As I was running around the house, collecting my things and potato-sack-racing into my jeans, I started hearing a nagging little voice in the back of my head…

Coffee, it said. Don’t forget that you must have coffee. If you don’t have coffee, something terrible will happen. Your body will shut down or the world will end or dinosaurs will come back to life and eat everyone!!! Must. Have. Coffee!!!!

The call time for Malfoy was 7am, which is not uncommon for television shows in LA. The entertainment business is a work hard, play hard type of industry. A 10 to 12 hour day (and often longer) is the norm.

There is only one saving grace when you are rolling yourself out of bed at 5am for those early calls, and this glorious thing is a little gem called CRAFT SERVICES. If I could put a light behind those words on this page and make them glow, I would. Craft Services is a gift sent from the heavens above.

Now it depends on the show and the budget, but breakfast is pretty much always included when you work an early call. And it’s not just a bagel platter and some crappy coffee. Oh, no. This is Hollywood, baby. I have seen omelet chefs, made-to-order breakfast sandwich trucks, fruit and pastry platters, cereal bars, and basically anything else you can think of. It is unbelievable. It is also the single most exciting part of my day. When a show has an amazing Crafty set up, I feel - in that moment - that all is right in the world.

So even though I was terribly arrogant and didn’t have time to make coffee before I left, I knew there was no reason to worry. Soon I would be basking in the glow of an omelet chef’s fire, sipping happily on my café au lait.

Two hours later, I was dressed in my cop uniform, almost tipping over because of the weight of the utility belt. There were guns and tasers and keys poking into every side of my waist. All I could think about was setting up my folding chair in the holding area as fast as I could, so that I could get to sipping that warm, caffeine-infused nectar of the Gods.

When all of the sudden, the PA from hell (who I will now call Shifty from this point on) walked in to tell us that they were taking us in shifts to get breakfast. SHIFTS! I considered a riot... well… I considered picking up my chair and moving to the front of the room, so that I could skip in front of everyone else. But I didn’t want to make enemies in the first five minutes of the day, so I thought, “Be cool, Jess,” and sat down to wait my turn.

My turn ended up being about 30 minutes later, and let me tell you, I was ready to make some enemies. When the little twerp, Shifty, said that my group could finally go, I was on the verge of collapsing. I shuffled down to Crafty with my fellow officers and was appalled to find that breakfast had been picked over like a scarf store in Boystown. The only things left to eat were a few jelly-filled donuts - which are disgusting, and some honeydew melon - which I don’t consider real food anyway. I was furious.

I turned to get a cup of coffee - the one thing that could still save my happy day - and the pot was empty. Oh hellllsss no. Harry Potter is powerful, but without coffee, this day was not going to be wondrous, magical, or perfect.

“Coffee!” I said, panicked, “We need coffee over here!”

Another PA (I will call him Snail) walked over to me and started the process of refilling the machine - as slow as he possibly could. I stood right behind him. The Snail kept looking back at me, trying to make his discomfort of my proximity acknowledged. I didn’t budge. The more uncomfortable you are, sir, the faster you work to get it done.

As the liquid started dripping, my panic eased. Soon, Master. Soon, we will be together again. Then, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hi, we need you to go to props really quick,” said Shifty, who had snuck up behind me like a little Keebler elf. (I’m not really sure if that reference makes sense.)

“But…” I replied. My eyes darted to the coffee and then back at him. Then to the coffee, then back at him. I pouted and followed him to props.

After fifteen minutes of my fake guns and batons being twisted and moved into every possible position on my oversized utility belt and the most ridiculous conversation about what the “technically correct” position of pepper spray is, I finally was set free by the props people. Two more minutes and I would have reminded my captors that none of the viewers were going to give a shit if my pepper spray was turned the correct way because: one - I (and my belt) would most likely be a big blurry blob onscreen anyway, and two - no one gives a shit. But they set me free, so I set them free from being reminded that ninety percent of what they do in the day is not really that important and headed back towards the coffee machine.

When I got back, I poured myself a big cup of the most perfect looking coffee I had ever seen, and all was right in the world once more, and my story is over.

Just kidding, that would be a stupid story. Here’s what actually happened. The coffee was gone!!! The fresh pot had been brewed and consumed in all of fifteen minutes. But at least my pepper spray was police-force-accurate…sigh.

Panicked, I started turning in circles, searching for The Snail. I began making random comments about there being no coffee to people around me who didn’t care. I started picking up lids and containers, searching for grounds and filters and anything to help me make this machine start working again. Finally I heard Snail behind me, telling me to stop touching the machine because I would break it. Thank God.

Just as before, I stood and waited for him to refill the machine. At this point, he probably was thinking that I had a real issue with caffeine, as he had no idea that I didn’t get a cup after our last stand off.

But before I could even consider what judgment Snail was passing about my addictions, I was stopped by a firm hand on my arm. All of the sudden I was being pulled away from the coffee machine once more by an angry hair stylist telling me with frustration that there was no way - just no way - I could have a ponytail! Ponytails were liabilities for a cop in the field! A perp could grab it in a fight! In the distance I could see the drips start dripping and my heart started to sink. She had a ponytail, and I considered using her own move against her, but thought better of it.

For the next twenty minutes, I had my hair styled. And when I say ‘styled’ I mean yanked into a bun and stuck with a million bobby pins as the stylist angrily reminded me over and over again that my hair was “so thick,” “so difficult,” and “really not working with her.” I think someone else may have missed their morning coffee that day…

By the time I got back to the machine, I was more desperate than ever. My head had started aching, and I wasn’t sure if it was caffeine withdrawal or the mini knives in my scalp holding my difficult hair together. Either way, the coffee was becoming my white whale, and I needed to conquer it. Thankfully, there was still some left! I poured myself a giant cup, dressed it to the nines, and then headed back towards the holding area, slowly inhaling the cheap, nutty aroma of Grade A Foldgers in My Cup.

Sitting down, I placed the coffee on the floor in front of me, stubbornly refusing to take the first sip till I was comfortable and perfect. I had waited long enough; I didn’t want to taint the experience by rushing through it. When I was ready, I bent down, picked up the coffee…and the lid came off where I was holding it. The cup plunged back to the ground, splattering my coffee all over the cement floor.

Everyone shrieked and pulled their things off of the ground as the coffee spread. Someone had the sense to run and grab paper towels. I just stood looking down at the liquid. Well isn’t that just some bullshit, I thought…      

Once I had sufficiently cleaned the floor up enough for people to put their things back down, we were called to the stage. I walked into the fake precinct feeling defeated and discombobulated. I sat down on a bench, waiting for direction. When all of the sudden, I heard a familiar, wonderfully-evil sounding voice approaching. I looked up just in time to see Lucius walking by. He had brown hair, an American accent, and a Muggle suit on, but it was definitely him. I’m pretty sure he looked at me and smiled, but I also may be making that up because I didn’t have my glasses on. (But, I’m pretty sure.) With the drama of the last few hours, I had actually forgotten that this was supposed to be one of the best days of my life, and Malfoy had jolted that memory back into the present.

I was placed doing a cross right by the desk where Malfoy was sitting in the scene. I totally and completely forgot about the coffee!! I was high on Harry Potter, and it felt goooood! I mean, I WAS ACTING WITH LUCIUS MALFOY! We were acting together in a scene! Kind of... Sure, I was just a walking blur, and he was the star of the show, but we were both essential to the reality of the scene. And, that was all I needed.

All of the sudden, the day became fun again. I gave myself a back story. I was a stubborn but genius, out-of-the-box officer who had turned down the job of detective several times because, in the end, I knew my place was on the streets with the people. I was smarter than all of the detectives in the precinct, and therefore, became frustrated with them easily. When action was called, I was supposed to walk by Malfoy’s desk and stop to talk to one of the detectives in the back. I took it upon myself to view that detective as an idiot and silently yell at him when I approached. The first time he was afraid of my sudden outburst. But then he got on board, and we played the roles I had cast us in. It was a blast!  

After about an hour on set, I was asked to stay for the reverse shot. One of the other extras who had seen my coffee fiasco earlier in the day was released. Before he went, he told me he would go get me another cup of coffee, so it would be waiting when I was released from set. He had heard about my whole day and felt sorry for me. I accepted, but the truth was, I didn’t really need it anymore. I had forgotten about it completely in the last hour. I had even forgiven Shifty and Snail.

All the same, when I was sent back to the holding area, I was pretty excited to finish my day out the right way. I was like the girl in a romantic comedy who realizes she didn’t need the bad boyfriend to accomplish her goals in life, but still ends up with another boyfriend in the end because why not wrap the whole story up with a perfect little boyfriend bow. I wanted my boyfriend bow.

When I turned the corner, I saw the cup - as promised - sitting by my chair. This was it - the moment I had been waiting for since 5 o’clock in the morning. In slow motion, I undid my security belt and threw it to the side. I grabbed the bobby pins out of my hair one by one, littering the floor with little metal spikes until my hair flowed freely behind my slow motion body. I bent down to pick up the cup, smiling like the girl about to kiss her new, nice boyfriend…

And the lid came off, and the coffee spilled all over the floor…again.

Coffee went everywhere – the floor, the walls, my chair, my bags, and pretty much everything else in the near vicinity. The other extras just stared in shock. One of them looked at me and asked the obvious. “What is wrong with you?” he said. So much, I wanted to tell him… but that was beside the point.

“I’m left handed,” I said. It’s the only thing I could think of.

They all picked up their things and started to leave. I grabbed the already-handy paper towels and started to wipe it all up. A days worth of dreams, soaking into some Brawny paper towels…

I didn't need you, I thought. I've conquered you (for the day). Boyfriend bows are for wimps anyway. And, I left feeling quite energized.

  

         

Feet-Scented Air Conditioner and Utilities Included

As I walked away from the bathroom wall, which was dripping with a brown substance that I had just (perhaps thankfully) realized was a past tenant’s leftover smoke residue and turned off the small air conditioning unit that had suddenly and unexplainably started smelling like feet, I realized that the time had come upon me to put key to screen and get this LA adventure on record (for my lawyers)...


Living Situation


We had arrived in a blur. I remember: celebrities, champagne, and silk linens. And, by those things I mean: old people in their underwear walking around the apartment courtyard, cheap wine, and a studio apartment furnished with the most uncomfortable, hard, wooden furniture that has ever been manufactured.

As we sat in the tiny leasing office that we had, literally, climbed over each other in order to both fit in, I didn’t take my eyes off of Scott, searching for some sign that he was still serious about signing the lease. Sure, it was only month to month, but a whole month?? Seriously?? 

After leaving our jobs, home, and friends, and driving thousands of miles across the country, all I wanted was to land comfortably in a place that could feel just a little bit like home. This felt more like a prison cell mixed with an office building mixed with a dorm for old people…sigh.

As with all situations, though, one adapts. We moved our things onto the brown carpet, against the brown walls, under the brown ceiling and just hoped that we wouldn’t be in the place long enough for the smell of smoke to permanently cling to our belongings.

I immediately covered the walls with whatever accessible artwork I could find in our boxes (because I would shoot myself before I actually unpacked our things completely in this place). The highly suspicious, dried, red spots that Scott had noticed splattered on the floor around the front door turned out to be just old paint (we’re pretty sure). And, we fixed the un-lockable windows with a short trip to the hardware store.

Yes, Scott is being stalked by this old woman next door. (Every time he goes out to swim, she comes into the pool area and stares at him. I think it is the funniest thing ever. He is genuinely freaked out by her.)  And, yes, sometimes I do feel like I’m going to get sick just breathing in the particles that I imagine are coming off of the nicotine plastered walls. But, it is a roof over our head, and its not permanent, and that is something to be happy about!  


Driving

After years of public transportation in Chicago, I would have to admit I was slightly nervous about the whole driving thing in Los Angeles. However, I misjudged the whole situation. It’s not slightly nerve wracking. It is, quite possibly, the most terrifying experience of my life – every single time I get on the highway.

LA citizens are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. LA drivers are just horrible, disgusting excuses for human beings. You do the math. And, the more you drive, the more sporadic, second-guessing, and dangerous your own driving becomes. In turn, making you contribute to the mess and become a horrible, disgusting human being, yourself. You are constantly on the defense and constantly looking to get ahead of your next opponent. The more that you get cut off, the more cutting off you do. It’s the circle of life.

I have recently become aware of an amazing personal phenomenon where I actually stop breathing the minute that I enter the freeway. It took me two times of seeing spots to notice this as a trend and realize that I hadn’t inhaled in over a minute. Now, I have to tell myself, “Breathe in, breathe out,” every single time I drive in order to keep myself conscious.

During the second week of driving, I had my first real mishap on the road. I was heading to a doctor's appointment and an interview in Hollywood when I saw my phone buzzing over and over with calls from Scott.

I knew that he knew that I would never pick up the phone while driving in this terrifying city, so my heart sank, realizing that it was probably something important. I pulled into a Staples parking lot to call him back, also noticing that my phone was one flashing bar away from going dead.

“You left your wallet,” he said immediately upon answering.

“Damn my life!!” I screamed out loud.

However, I’m trying out this new thing where I don’t immediately panic about things (try is the operative word here), so I forced myself to calm down and think rationally. I hung up and called the doctor’s office. They completely understood and said that I wouldn’t need my ID and could still come to the appointment. Kudos to me for not panicking, I thought.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I immediately noticed how small and unforgiving the lot was. But, it was parking…how hard could it be? I saw an open spot that, in hindsight, was probably open for a good reason. But, I pulled in anyway, irrationally thinking that if I didn’t take the spot, the person behind me would know how uncomfortable I was with driving and harass me for it or something.

When my front tire first went up on the side curb, I probably should have stopped and found another spot. But, I didn’t. Instead I tried to straighten the car out, whilst on the curb. This promptly ended with a huge crash to the ground as my tire slipped off the opposite end of the curb and landed on the other side. Don’t panic, I thought.

I tried to back up over the curb, but my tire only spun around, barely touching the ground below it. The curb was so deep that the bottom of the car was actually sitting on top of it with the left, front wheel free hanging on the other side. Don’t panic, I thought.

I got out of the car to survey the situation. The back of the car was still sticking out well into the tiny parking lot, so traffic slowed as two lanes became one. I’m sorry, I mouthed over and over again to each of the cars squeezing by. Don’t panic, I thought.

Ingeniously (if I may say so), I noticed some big rocks within the landscaping that my tire was currently squashing. I started piling rocks in front of my tire, thinking that I could use them as leverage and drive up and over the curb via the rocks. This idea ended with scattered rocks and another bang to the underbelly of the car. Don’t panic, I thought.

Accepting defeat, I realized that I would just need to call a tow truck and have them haul me off the curb. It was really no big deal. This happens to everyone, I thought. It could be worse. And, then I realized that I had no license to show anyone or money to pay them or power left in my cell phone to call them. And, I had a job interview in an hour and a half.

Time to panic, I thought.

I used the last bar of power on my phone to call Scott and hysterically break down. And, I mean hysterically…

“I’m stuck!!!! I’m going to get arrested; I have no license with me!! I’m going to miss my interview!! My phone is going to die, and no one will ever find me!!! I know I damaged the bottom of the car; I just know I did!! I can’t afford to fix a car!!! Everyone in this parking lot is mad at me!!!”

Within my crying fit, I managed to get out the address of where I was. Scott got in a cab with my wallet. After about an hour, Scott had managed to find me, the tow truck had arrived, and all four tires of the car had been safely returned to the ground. It cost $100 and several ‘I just don’t know how you did this’ comments from the tow truck driver for a lesson well learned.

Good thing I didn’t panic.   


Work


I’m working as an extra…a background artist for those of you who care to dignify it with a better title. It’s sort of crap.

I get paid $8 an hour, which is by far, the smallest amount of money I’ve ever worked for…ever, even as a college student. But, as an actor, I guess I’m supposed to feel thankful for the experience or some stupid thing like that. I’m not thankful. I think it’s craziness.

Ever since I moved to LA, I’ve slowly started to realize what a great business this whole acting thing is – for everyone but the actor, that is.

My first job was as an audience member on the Suze Orman show, “America’s Money Class”. Bet you didn’t know that almost all of the audience on most talk shows are sad, sad little actors, did you? I didn’t.

I showed up to the studio and found the background check-in. The few real audience members who had tickets were seated under a tent on the far side of the lot. They had chips and water. We were told to keep our line hidden behind the dumpsters.

I met a few really nice people and, of course, a few more really weird people. The weird ones attached themselves to me, immediately. I have no idea why I always attract oddballs, but it is something I’ve dealt with my whole life. If there is a straggler, a runt, or a weirdo - they find me and try to befriend me no matter what.  

So, naturally, the biggest weirdo of the group started talking to me almost the second I got there. He was just one of those guys that you know has been a nerd from day one. Don’t get me wrong, most of the time, “day one” nerds turn into the best people you will ever know. They are smart and fun and not afraid to be themselves. But sometimes, “day one” nerds just get angry and grow up to be nerdy assholes. The latter is the path this fellow took. 

But, I’m not a mean person so, nerdy asshole or not, I gritted my teeth and tried to converse. I made the mistake of asking him what he was interested in other than acting. When he told me he was writing a movie, I made the bigger mistake of asking what it was about.

“Well, it’s just a truly fascinating story. Truly fascinating! You won’t even believe how fascinating this story is! It’s a four part movie. It’s about this human who turns into a robot and struggles, internally, about whose side of the human vs. robot war he is loyal to.”

“Kind of sounds like Battlestar Galactica,” I said. I couldn’t help it. He frowned.

“Yes, well there are some similar story lines in the two.”

“How are you going to fund it?” I asked with a little too much sass. This guy was really getting on my nerves.

“Well, by the time I’m done writing it, I plan on having enough money and clout to produce it myself,” he threw back in my face.

I didn’t respond.

When we were finally ready to be seated in the studio, we formed a line. I went out of my way to put a few people in between Mr. Fascinating and me, so that I wouldn’t have to sit next to him. But, somehow he managed to wiggle his way up next to me, and we were seated side by side.

“Just so you know - I’m going to be making funny comments the whole time the taping is going on. If you are cool, you’ll laugh. If you aren’t cool, you won’t,” he informed me.

Yep.

At the end of the long, long taping, I had sufficiently proven to Mr. Fascinating that I was, in fact, not cool. I walked out of the studio and lined up behind the other actors to get my $64 in cash and free money how-to book (bonus!). At least I don’t have to claim the cash, I thought.

Before I left, I handed my business card out to the other two people I had met on set. And, of course, Mr. Fascinating saw the transaction and was at my side in an instant with his card. It took everything in me, but I handed him my own card back. Trying to be nice, I told him that I liked the picture on his card, and that the next time I printed, I should add a picture, too.

He responded, indicating with his finger, “Yeah you might want to lose this other stuff, too.”

I realized he was referring to the: “Hero: Han Solo, Superpower: Bravery” line under my phone number.

Jerk face.

I snapped back, “Well, I like it. I think it shows my personality.”

“Okay, if you want to be a background artist the rest of your life,” he quipped.  

“You’re an extra, you nerd!" I screamed, "You can just “background” artist your face out of mine!”

Okay, I didn’t say that. I'm not even sure if that makes sense. But, I did politely turn away and roll my eyes behind my back.


Conclusion

This may all sound depressing to you, but it really isn't. The truth is, I expected every minute of the struggle when I made the decision to move out here and am still completely excited and happy to be doing it. That's what risk is. But, the great part about struggling is that when you finally start to put the pieces of your life back together, you are so aware of how wonderful you have it. We are surviving, and that is the most important thing. I survive by making fun of the mountains I have to climb.

And, every time something happens that sets me back slightly, all I can think about is how grateful I am for the good blog material...

Day #4 - Goodbye and good luck

Well, that's all folks. We made it! We move into our apartment tomorrow. We are both so overwhelmed with happiness, sadness, fear, and excitement, but we know that it is all for the better of our careers and that makes it all worth it. I would recommend doing that drive to anyone - at least just once in your life. It is an eye-opener in so many different ways and an experience that you cannot compare to anything else. Just make sure to do it with someone you don't mind being a foot away from for 8-10 hours a day!  

Day #4 - City of Angels and horrible drivers....

We finally made it to LA! After 8 hours and experiencing our first encounter with LA drivers, we were so ready for a drink.

Day #4 - Not all fun and games...

Scotty and I decided to record one of our lower moments in the car. There weren't many, but when it hit, it hit hard...

Day #4 - Happy California!

We finally crossed the California border!!!

Day #4 - How do you eat your sunflower seeds??

Scotty grossed me out with his sunflower seed eating habits. How did I not know this about him??

Day #4 - Wine and Dine in Tucson

Happy Day in the Prius...

Day #3 - Gwen and Cacti

We ended Day #3 at our old Chicago friend Gwen's house in Arizona. After three days of strangers, it was so good to see a friend! Also, we learned a lot about cacti...

Day #3 - Thunder Mountain

While driving through Arizona, we were suddenly surrounded by the craziest bubble rocks ever. They were so crazy, Scotty almost kills us while looking at them.

Day #3 - Welcome to Arizo --oops.

At the 1 mile marker, I grabbed my camera to welcome you all to Arizona...

Day #3 - No Sympathy for Hippies...

We stopped for lunch at a local Mexican place in New Mexico. Let's just say I was not a popular girl there.

Day #3 - New Mexico Missile Range but no Indiana Jones in sight...sigh.

We stumbled upon the White Sand Missile Range heading out of NM. We were both hoping for a show...

Day #3 - Billy the Kid Casino

We randomly came across this horse racing track and casino. There were jockeys and horses out on the track, so we had to stop!

Day #3 - Charmed to Death

I was in raptures. Raptures I say.

Day #3 - Farley's Fun Pub is not so fun...

We left our inn at 9am and started our day headed towards Tucson. But we took a moment for a reflection on Roswell first...

Day #2 - Yeah - you wish you were here.

We FINALLY made it to my real destination of this whole trip... LA shmell-A. The International UFO Museum is where. its. at.

Day #2 - Welcome to Roswell - It's out of this world...

We finally arrived in Roswell! It was such a perfect break from the long boringness that is New Mexico.

Day #2 - New Mexico, stop being so long and boring...

Ugh.

Day #2 - OMG What is that!??!?!?!?

We entered New Mexico and were greeted with more than we bargained for!

Day #2 - Texas doesn't offend me...

Shout-out to Lizzie Lovelady! We had Subway in your hometown!!!

Day #2 - Texas: The friendly state?

I finally drove some of the stretch (from Oklahoma to Amarillo). We entered Texas and gave our thoughts... Scotty apologizes for not zooming back out.

Day #2 - Tolls and Rolls

After staying the night at the Best Western Plus (we spurged for the plus), Scotty and I had our breakfast, gave our thoughts on Oklahoma, and hit the road. Our goal was to get to Roswell by 4pm, so we would have an hour to walk the International UFO Museum...

Day# 1 - Dance Party USA

To finish up day# 1, we decided a dance party was neccessary. Now we are settled in Oklahoma City and leaving for Roswell tomorrow!!!! I'm so excited!!!!!

Day#1 - Big Bugs and Mini Ferris Wheels

Outside of the Ozark Village was this amazing antique shop. Scotty was only interested in his fudge.

Day#1 - Giant Cowboy Hat

Inside the Ozark Village - a special place....

Day#1 - The wonder that is: Ozark Village

No need to really explain this video. The awesomeness of this place stands on its own.

Day #1 - St. Louis lunch...

Around 1pm Central Time we hit St. Louis...

Day# 1 - Illinois has corn.

Illinois has corn.

Day# 1 - Frodo and Sam have left the Shire!

8:45am - Just as Frodo and Sam walked across the thresholds of the cornfield and entered the furthest they had ever been from home, we sort of did the same thing...sort of. We just got beyond Indianapolis...