Not sure how I feel about kickstarter. Not sure how I feel about Signe Baumane's film. Am sure about how I feel about Signe. Am sure how I feel about depression. It makes me laugh cause I have this friend, Bob Archer. He runs a hot dog stand in downtown Ottawa. Been there for decades. Short, pudgy little guy with a fluffy little Lanny McDonald mustache. Rain, sun, snow, sand, or sinkholes, Bob stands beaming over the daily procession of resigned civil servants. Bob understands. Beginning. End. Repeat. Tedium. Bob endured by occasionally glancing outside the window on floor 21. He saw what most could not. Three beams of light from the east. The beams soothed and warmed him. Cooled him on warm days. Calmed him during storms. Awakened him during fogs. Awaiting his return each day. Bob closed his eyes and smiled softly as he took a deep joyous breath. Life.
A Monday afternoon in January. 2013. Bob looks out at the beams. They flicker violently then vanish. Startled, Bob leaves work and heads east towards the source of the lights. Bob never finds the beams, only slashes of red darkness that envelop and swallow him.
Seconds. Minutes. Days. Weeks. Months. Years.
Black and Red then black then red then black then grey until it's light enough again for Bob to find a door.
He opens it. It's bitterly cold. An Arctic cold front. Severe winds. People covered, shuffling about in search of warmth.
The rising sun briefly blinds. Bob pauses to wipe the tears from beneath his sun beaten eyes. His eyes adjusted, Bob takes a deep and satisfying breath, smiles, and carries on.
And that's the story of Bob Archer, the beaming weiner guy.
Signe doesn't know him and she's never seen him. I bet she'd like him though. I bet he'd like her too.
You? Well, I can't speak for you. Follow this link, read about Signe and her film project and you decide.