THE SHARED EXPERIENCE
As much as I would like to tour the country, reading minds and predicting the future from the back of a covered wagon, I have not developed the skills of mental telepathy – yet. I’ve heard estimates that we only use 5 – 10% of our brain’s capabilities, so it’s very likely that we may figure out some day how to intentionally send signals to each other from across the room, or even across the world (via some sort of brain wave satellite booster system, of course). In the mean time, I prefer to enjoy the instinctive signals that transmit via the shared experience.
Something occurs when we share an experience. It’s the reason we don’t enjoy a comedy by ourselves on an iPhone as powerfully as seeing it on the big screen with a room full of contagious laughter. It’s the reason we know when someone is intentionally following us, as opposed to coincidentally walking along the same path. And, it’s the way that couples all over the world fall in love – through a series of positive and negative experiences together.
The shared experience helps us connect to other human beings outside of the romantic sphere as well. Think about every time you meet someone from a school you attended, or a city you spent some time. You both instinctively want to figure out if you know the same person, or went to the same place. More specifically, you feel a stronger connection to that stranger if you both know Steven, as opposed to both having tried Lou Malnati’s Pizza. More, more specifically, you feel an even stronger connection if you both managed to pull Steven’s beard while eating a Lou Malnati’s sausage pizza. And, finally, if you both pulled Steven’s beard over a Lou Malnati’s Sausage Pizza, while Wynton Marsalis played “I’ve Got the World on a String” as an apology for breaking your yo-yo? Well, then you might want to consider moving into the romantic sphere, because destiny is sending you a definite a signal.
Jackie and I have amassed our own range of shared experiences through our 15 years together. From the challenges of moving to California and adjusting to the insanity of each others’ family, to the delights of courtship, home ownership, dog ownership, and our recent abduction by an alien mothership. In a way, our latest adventure with our visiting niece and nephew - a teen and a tween - feels a bit like spending time with alien life forms, with all the added benefits of an instant family (just add water, and microwave Taquitos).
Already, our shared experiences include July 4th Fireworks, Disneyland, Six Flags, and lots of swimming in the townhouse pool. I still can’t believe some of the roller coasters I endured, carrying the shared experience to the X-TREME! As my 11-year-old nephew reported with some authority and research on the matter, “Uncle Dan, everyone knows that the butterflies are very important in judging the roller coaster experience.”
At the same time, we do feel a little responsibility to leave them something more than a list of daytrips. We want to model a strong marriage and relationship. Which leads to some overcompensation. We feel our conversations a little more heavily weighted now. It’s like we’re putting on a show, and we feel extra pressure to portray our relationship a certain way. Whatever we say and however we interact is on display in a special after-school special shared experience. We must not disappoint. We have a value now these young people’s lives. A value that they will remember their whole life (if they knows what’s good for them)!
Meanwhile, I’m editing the pilot for Baby Time. I always reach a point in the process when I look at a rough cut of all the shots in chronological order, and I wonder, “What is this? Who made this? Why am I not laughing?” I have all the elements together with all the best performances – and something’s wrong. All my insecurities return for a moment. I become fearful of my investor until I realize that investor is I. Then I feel foolish. Then I feel angry. Then a little hungry (any Taquitos left?) Then finally I settle on cautiously optimistic. After all, I’m sure a professional editor can fix it.
Luckily, I had an opportunity to show it to a couple of people that I trust. Something really surreal develops when you watch a film you made with an audience. Sure, they react to things in way you don’t expect. Yes, they laugh, or don’t laugh, and you can see their faces. However, a more important phenomena develops instantly due to the magic of the shared experience. As a filmmaker, I feel the experience myself differently when sitting with other people. It’s difficult to explain, but the presence of others creates a collective consciousness that changes my own perspective. It’s the shared experience that shows me flaws and miracles suddenly that I never noticed.
And hope returns. The pilot is not ready for general consumption yet. But, the butterflies are returning. And, as anyone knows, the butterflies are very important in judging the experience.