A Movie? About Me?  

When I was young there was a sitcom on NBC called Wings. The premise of the show isn’t important for this story but the show's main characters were two brothers. One of the brothers was played by the actor Steven Weber. 

“When they make a move about your life, that guy from Wings should play you” a friend once told me. This was while the show was still on the air. 

“Why would someone make a movie about me?” was my obvious response. 

“You’ll see, man. Just wait.” 

The only other time in my life when I can recall someone saying that specific phrase to me was when I was visiting my brother and his family many years ago. My brother's two boys were young, the oldest in elementary school and the other maybe in preschool. Both were glued to screens, the older one either playing video games or watching television and the younger one on an iPod Touch, which I think he was given for his fourth birthday, something I can still hardly believe. After arriving and going through the pleasantries that one does, I began to stare at his kids in amazement. I might have even scoffed a little. My brother picked up on this and said to me that very same thing: “You’ll see, man. Just wait.” 

This was about my daughter, who had very recently been born. He was implying that this is how kids are raised these days and I should prepare myself for this inevitability. I, however, did not fall into this trap. I have purchased no gaming consoles, nor given my daughter free reign with a tablet, computer, or old phone of mine. If she does use them, it’s only for audiobooks, which she can’t get enough of. That has been chalked up to all the time she spent in the hospital after she was born prematurely; when we played audiobooks to her whenever her mom and I were there. We’d sit in her hospital room exhausted from our daily, and sometimes twice daily, visits. We had this mounting daily/weekly weight from not knowing the health of our daughter. We’d sit in nervous silence while listening to Stephen Fry read the Harry Potter books, our heads swiveling from her to the beeping machines above her bed, then gaze at the large window in our room. Looking out to the world below, the cars driving by, hoping none of these strangers had to experience what we were going through. Until a machine would beep, or a nurse would walk in, interrupting Stephen Fry and dragging us back to reality. 

I did, however, purchase an arcade cabinet for a recent family Christmas gift, but one which only plays games from when I was a kid. This has been more interesting to me than anyone else in my family. No real surprise there. There has been some serious Dig Dug playing recently, though.  

This movie topic did come up much more recently. Deep into my forties, I had picked up a second job. It had been decided that my daughter would attend private school, and the significant funds to pay for that school were somewhat in doubt. I found a position with an outdoor retail company, whose name boils down to three letters. I worked in the bike shop, following in my father’s footsteps. I had no prior experience with bicycles, other than having one around for most of my life and listening to my father tell me stories of rear derailleurs, classic Bianchi 10-speeds, cassettes, down tube shifters, and many other bike-related things, which I am now just beginning to understand.  

A couple of weeks into the job I walked into the bike shop part of the store where I worked, to hear one of the guys saying “If someone played you in a story of your life, which actor would you choose?” 

I was floored. I think I stopped in my tracks when I heard that. With the constant music, the clicking of bicycle gears, and the overwhelming drone of all the fans running, no one even noticed I had walked back into the room, nor did they notice my gaping at the two of them. And without lending any more thought than being asked which he liked best, chocolate or strawberry milk, this person had an answer. He rattled off two actors, neither of which I had ever heard of, even after the guy elaborated on which movies they had been in.  

This is something people think about? Amazing.  

I have always found the conversation about the movie of my life curious. It took me longer to type the conversation out than it lasted in person, all those years ago. Why would my friend think anyone would want to make a movie about me, and my life? Also, we were in our late teens at that time. I had done so little, and lived a life that seemed so inconsequential—how could there even be enough for a short film?  

My friend was not known to have premonitions of any sort. He knew not of tomorrow's weather nor the answers to his next algebra test. Where did he come up with this?  

Did he know that years later, I would save that Sherpa’s life while descending Everest? And I never did tell him about that time I was recruited by a three-letter government agency after I graduated college. But he was aware that during my short stint as a professional racing driver, I attempted to qualify for the Indianapolis 500, back in 2012. I even gave him that job as a producer on the kid's TV show I created years back. 

Unfortunately, there were a few years there when we didn’t speak after the deal with his sister. He ended up missing out on being called collect at all hours of the day and night as I cycled across Australia. I could have used his friendship while I was down there. I did feel so totally alone after the snake bite and subsequent coma. 

I’m not sure if my life as a whole, or taken in parts, has been or is interesting enough for a movie. Sure, I’ve done a couple of interesting things throughout my life, but who hasn’t? God, and don’t even get me started on the time I fell off that damn cruise ship near Bermuda.