The Ginkers Documentary

Posted a new pic of our oft-used set. In it one can barely make out one of the Rucksack Films crew members, Bill Schlavis, as he sits nestled comfortably between some of my father's old work tools, a lawnmower, and what looks like a garbage can full of scrap metal. The frame is full and chaotic, like the process. Tripods, cameras, lighting rigs, cables, and all of the actual remnants of what a garage-turned-set should be. I like the vibe. We arrive, the parents brew some coffee outside, some donuts are arranged. Next, Eric always arrives. This time with some chips and a bottle of soda. We chat some. Talk work stuff, life stuff. "How's the baby?" "How's Jen?" I ask the major life component questions. We chat more. Matt arrives. Move out toward his SUV, help him unload. Ask about the wife, any new movies he's seen. There is an easy way to it all. I've known him since we were in 6th grade and while there has been stress over the years that only friends can know, it is and has always been OK. I am glad to see him. We laugh a lot. Bill pulls up. Tall and lanky, he makes his way over to the set and easily swallows a donut with a quiet smile. He says something off-color and I know that the day is in motion. His nickname is Sam Spade on account of his moody and sometimes surly disposition, though Sam hasn't been quite so Sam as of late. He sets up, runs cables, reads the manual on a new piece of finery. Eric rigs the lights. Matt sets up the shot. The subject arrives as my mother waters some fall plants. My dad works a shingle that is loose. Melanie readies herself for the shoot, a bottle of rum and something blue. She brings a 12-pack for the boys and we settle in for an afternoon.