It’s a Family Affair #2 - International Edition: The Wife Stays in the Picture
The Summer of ’90 was an interesting time in my career.
The year prior saw the Syracuse-based company I’d worked for since 1984, my first real job out of school, become acquired by a Chicago-based international software corporation called Pansophic. The new owners had a rather large marketing department. They didn’t have any in-house video capabilities, but had been planning on developing a department to serve the entire international company. HR got its signals crossed and I was “mistakenly” laid off. A short time later I got a call telling me that I was not only supposed to be retained, but they wanted to beef up the little department I had created from scratch. To make up for their error, they offered me a raise, restored my seniority, gave me an elevated title and developed a contract that allowed us to stay in Syracuse for a year while they built me a studio and my wife finished her degree at SU. So I commuted between Syracuse and Chicago. “Video” was new to this company and I was seen as the “Hollywood guy” - the CEO and VPs loved me because we clicked and I made them look good. And that offered me some corporate capital that I’d cash in along the way, especially that summer.
My office/edit suite in Liverpool, NY c. 1989.
The International Division had offices around the world. As I recall, it accounted for a large chunk of the company’s revenue but no one in the States really understood who they were and what they did. So the company wanted me to produce an “Introduction to International” comprehensive video. The plan was to send me to all the major offices, interview each VP and get some local office slice-of-life stories. The planned itinerary started in Sydney, Australia, with a stop in Tokyo and Beijing, before flying to all the major European offices, then back home for post production. All in about two weeks! As much as I wanted to have “International Jet-setter” on my resume, that schedule just wasn’t feasible. Long story short, we decided to keep it simple and go to London, Dusseldorf, Rome, Paris and Amsterdam while we hired local crews for all the other Australian and Asian offices.
Location scouting near some famous bridge…
My newly minted wife, Spike, was none too happy to sit home while I traipsed around all the countries we’d talked about visiting. There was a company policy that stated no spouses or significant others were allowed on company trips. However, I’d accrued some of that corporate capital and I decided to test it. I offered that if she were allowed to come along, she could be my crew and take still photos of all our locations/offices while I captured interviews and video. HR allowed it but (understandably) said we’d have to pay for all her expenses separately out of our own pocket. My boss, Connie, who was accompanying me on this trip, said that the hotel expenses were not an issue, since I needed a room anyway, nor would any meals be an issue, since she could easily bury those expenses. Basically, all we had to pay was Spike’s airfare!
My executive producer/roadie/handler, Spike, arguing with a German cabbie about how to fit all our gear into his car. She won.
So we packed up 7 large video cases, 2 suitcases and some carry-ons and flew from Syracuse to Chicago to catch our British Airways red-eye to London. Our first flight was late, so we had to run between terminals at O’Hare and barely caught our flight to the Old Country. Because we were late, we missed our previously assigned seats and had to take the last two middle seats back in the smoking section on the “chock-a-block” full flight (as our attendant put it in his best Cockney accent). The overnight flight was mostly uneventful but for the nervous guy next to me who literally chain-smoked three packs of cigarettes the entire flight. I know - I counted. Spike and I did the only thing we could to get through this flight: drink heavily on the unlimited wine provided by BA and our sympathetic attendant. It got to the point that he would bring us multiple bottles at a time so he wouldn’t have to make so many trips.
Shooting an executive somewhere on the streets of London.
Eventually we passed out and Smokey ran out of cancer sticks. We woke up just in time to experience landing in our first European country, collect our gear, get through customs and head off to our first shoot. Yes - someone had scheduled the very first shoot of the President of the International Division to occur as soon as got off the plane. No stopping at our hotel first to refresh, but rather go straight from Heathrow to his office. Extremely hung over, jet lagged and smelling like an ashtray, we must’ve made quite an impression.
Location scouting. Que the pigeons…
We met up with our local London company host, Dennis, who would accompany us on the rest of our multi-country trip. Looking back, he was a dead-ringer for (future star) Ricky Gervais - physically, socially and comically. I’m still not convinced that Dennis and Ricky are two separate people. He and his wife, Tracey (a Rebel Wilson-ish character herself) made an already amazing trip that much more entertaining. I’d never order a beer or food - I didn’t know anything about the local cuisines so he’d pick for me. Only failed once (pickled herring from Amsterdam has not touched my lips since and never will again).
Getting B-roll in Germany. Or Amsterdam. Or Ijsselstein. Or… it was kind of a blur by that point.
We spent a few days shooting around London, then on to Dusseldorf (where we walked along the Rhine at sunset, listening to the haunting bleating of sheep who never materialized and watched a French-speaking Pepé Le Pew dubbed into German) and IJsselstein, Netherlands (where I made my only attempt to drive a car, without knowing the language but certainly understanding the universal language of a certain finger gesture when I found myself driving in a bike lane). Rome and Paris fell off the itinerary due to management’s scheduling conflicts, so Spike and I had a few days to ourselves as pure tourists back in London. My jet lag finally wore off after a nap during a performance of Starlight Express.
Heading to our next location to Amsterdam from Germany via The Autobahn. At 140 mph!
Right before we were due to fly back to the States, a bombing occurred in Northern Ireland which put the UK on high alert. Arriving at Heathrow, it was more than a bit disconcerting to see heavily armed police and dogs patrolling everywhere. We had this eerie feeling that at any moment, we’d be blown to bits. We didn’t have to worry about terrorism (at the time) back home, and it was sad to think these people lived with it every single day. We made it through first security, and began to go through a second security checkpoint at our gate. The guard checked my camera, looked suspiciously at me as he had me fire it up, record something and play it back. He took an unusually keen interest in it, going so far as to call over more security to the point that now there was a small crowd of heavily armed guards pouring over my camera and questioning me. We were in danger of missing our flight as visions of Midnight Express danced in my brain. While I had nothing to hide, I was getting a bit nervous when I finally asked what the problem was. The first guard looked up and said, “Oh, nothing. We just don’t get to see very many American cameras so we all wanted to play with it.” He said that England’s copyright laws forbid any camera manufacturer from including dubbing capabilities, but since my camera had it, they were fascinated. He went on to say that we were not in danger of missing our flight, that they had held our plane for their enjoyment.
Scouting a location for our new production offices. Lacked usable space…
We made it back home - the video was a success - and little over a year later I was mistakenly laid off again when Pansophic was acquired by Computer Associates. But that’s another story.
After a few weeks of bangers and mash, bubble and squeak, and pickle and herring, we needed some good ‘ole American down home cooking.