KISS

Maybe the Keep it Simple Stupid meme truly illuminates the proper path. After all, there is wisdom in keeping projects, a video narrative voice over, a custom built-in set of floor to ceiling shelves, dinner, or the protocol of a workout session, as clean, clear and crisp as possible. Why muddy the waters with ambiguity, ornamentation and/or unnecessary layers of distraction? Could it be partly due to the fact that we have been led to believe that more is always better? Why use only three primary colors when the entire spectrum of hue, tone and saturation are available? Why use a dovetail joint when a few simple drywall screws will due? And most certainly, why ask a twenty-five cent word to due the job of its more commonplace and humble blue-collar cousin? 

Yesterday this debate came roaring onto the stage as I directed the scripting of the story of my hero on his trip (yes this is an autobiography documentary). His journey to find adventure and if lucky, a little transcendence as well. What in the old days we called a road trip. The resulting imagery of this term sends my heart into hyper-speed over-drive. New places to explore, highway miles to traverse with whatever musical accompaniment we all agreed upon, meeting interesting, weird, different and sometimes obnoxious fellow travelers and the rigid management of our precious resources, the most obvious being cash. We held no credit cards safely in reserve to save the day should circumstance require more than whatever paltry green our pockets protected. Ah, life on the road. 

I sit facing the screen. In graphic and high-resolution detail it shows the places I have visited and now prepare to share with others. A camera rests atop a sturdy tripod to my immediate left. The cans, my headphones, hang from a tilt lever. I have both elements of video production at my disposal. They will not argue, comment or critique any creative decision I make. They simply obey, a crisp salute and an aye aye captain. And therein lies the rub. 

I start to improvise along with the visual trying to sound urgent and imposing like the classic audio big voice. With shocking speed I recognize that this is fraudulent. It is phony. It isn’t even the tone or style I hear in my head as I do the color commentary and play-by-play of my daily life (as much as I hear it sometimes as very Sports Center-ish). I try a take two using a less aggressive delivery and it again falls on its face. Not working. FUCK. As described yesterday, we now have an official deadline to work with. The debut is Thursday night, four working days away. And I am just now starting the narrative? DEAR LORD. What type of emotionally unbalanced hubris is responsible for this I ask doing my best Rod Serling. Why do you insist on creating such impossible obstacles and throwing so many left hand monkey wrenches into the works? As was asked of V, ‘are you a crazy person?’

The solution of course, like a monkey wrench landing upside the head, is in keeping it simple. It has to be me, my voice, my narrative and my assessment of reality and the possibilities held therein. Sure, I will take a few pot shots at the deeply intertwined philosophy and the magical mythical metaphor of the hero on his quest, but mostly all this drama eventually will be resolved by what could be narrated as a series of unexpected confrontations with reality. 

In your own voice, with you as your banal best, tell us what you feel as we see where you are. 

EXTERIOR. MORNING, NORTHERN CALIFORNIA, A LONELY COASTAL STRETCH OF HIGHWAY 101. 

Sounds like the morning surf:

KISS.