Unmarked

It was a rainy Sunday in August of 2005. I had already a) talked to the Business Agent of IATSE Local 481 and been told that if I like to build scenery, I should go to work for Mystic Scenic Studios (which is the same thing Local 11 told me) and b) filled out all of the applications and big-ass checks required to be considered for membership. What I needed to do was get recommendations from two members in good standing. I had had a short telephone conversation with a Jake Forrester, and made arrangements to meet him and show him my stuff at the next IATSE business meeting. This rainy August day was the day of the business meeting in Woburn. I already had been to the IATSE office by MBTA, but, being a rainy Sunday, I decided to take the car. The meeting was to be held at the Red Roof Inn near the office. Easy Peasy.

I studied my Rand McNally map of Greater Boston before I left, and my Google map of Woburn, and the Woburn page in the Atlas of Eastern Massachusetts. All of these lay open to the appropriate sections on the passenger's seat. My NAB bag with my portfolio and resumes was in the back. I set out on this epic journey of about ten miles with trepidation in my heart. In two months in Massachusetts, we had been lost six or seven times already, and that was with a navigator diligently working to keep us on track. I was on my own.

The first part I knew: Trapelo Road to Route 60 north - called Pleasant Street because at that time (they have repaved it since) it was small sections of pavement between potholes, giant cracks and fallen away edges with steep precipices to avoid. Crossing from Belmont into Arlington the road got much better. Then all I had to do was find Route 3 and follow it to Woburn.

I was not disappointed. I found Route 3 just fine, but following it to Woburn was a different matter altogether. Twists and turns, barely marked intersections, totally unmarked forks in the road. I had it for a good long stretch, and was feeling good about my progress, when suddenly I passed a sign that said "Welcome to Somerville," and I knew things had gone awry. I found a parking lot where I could study my maps, and tried to figure out where I had gone wrong. In fact, I have studied those maps ten or twelve times since, and STILL don't know how it happened. So I figured out a way to get to Woburn by taking the Mystic River Parkway and the Fellsway, and thanking Carmen for the compass mounted to the windshield, I set a course roughly north northwest. It was a beautiful drive most of the way, past the Fells, a vast chunk of parkland around a series of ponds.

After about fifteen or twenty minutes of holding to a NNW course, I came out of the wilderness and onto city streets. I knew I wanted Washington Street, but I really had no idea what street I was on or where it was in relation to Washington, if indeed I was anywhere near Woburn. I forged ahead, keeping watch for the ever-elusive Massachusetts street sign. There! A major intersection. I was on... wait for it... Washington Street! I pulled off, studied my maps, and found the major intersection. I was within about six blocks of my meeting, which was scheduled to start in about five minutes. Woo Hoo! I continued on and found the Red Roof Inn. I parked and went in search of my meeting. No sign of it anywhere. I asked at the front desk. Their meeting room was closed for repairs, and the IATSE meeting had been moved to some other location.

I used the pay phone to call the IATSE office. I got a recording telling me to where the meeting had been relocated, and set out again. I found the building, found the unlocked entrance door, found the room with the IATSE meeting in full progress, and decided to wait outside until it was over. An hour or so later, the doors opened and people were streaming out. I went in and asked about Jake. He was pointed out to me, and I set out my pictures and resume while he talked business to a couple of members. When he got to me he seemed impressed with my portfolio and resume. Then he said to me: "You know, working in the movie business in Massachusetts isn't enough to make a living. We all freelance at other places to make ends meet. The best place to go is Mystic Scenic Studios. They aren't Union, but they pay pretty well." He told me about a few other places to talk to about freelance work, promised to get me recommended for membership, and I went home by a way I knew: Interstate 95 to US 20 to Route 60 to Belmont.

A few days later, after emailing my resume AGAIN to Mystic Scenic Studios, they hired me for four happy years. In September IATSE voted me in, told me I had to pay them about 900 more bucks to maintain my membership, and a couple of months later put me on the NIGS list (Not In Good Standing) for not paying them 900 bucks. Not many months after that, Jake came to Mystic for a freelance gig. He was not at all unhappy with me for the choice I made. It was a good choice.