The Camera is Always Rolling

Last week I had an encounter that has me thinking about an interview I watched years ago.

Oprah Winfrey was talking with Hilary Swank about Hilary’s role as Amelia Earhart in an upcoming movie. To best portray her character, Hilary had watched hours and hours of clips of Amelia giving interviews and talking in front of the camera.

The most valuable clip, though, according to Hilary Swank, was the one that was 45 seconds long of Ms. Earhart when she didn’t know she was being filmed. Hilary told Oprah that in those 45 seconds, she saw the real Amelia Earhart, not an actress playing to the camera. It was a true reflection of the woman she needed to understand and it was on that short clip that she based her portrayal of this historic figure.

To have someone sum up your identity and character in 45 seconds, that’s something. 

It’s easy, if not expected, to behave appropriately when the camera is rolling and the focus is on you. Who wouldn’t be on their best behavior when all eyes are on them?

But what about when we don’t know the camera is rolling? 

Last Sunday, when I didn’t realize the camera was rolling, I exhibited 45 seconds of “not my best self.”

I have a hundred excuses for my behavior: I hadn’t slept well the previous night; it had been a long day; some things didn’t go the way I wanted them too and I was frustrated. Not one of them was a valid excuse for my behavior later in the day.

I stopped at the grocery store on my way home from work to get dinner. The lines were the longest I’d seen at this particular store and after standing for a moment in one line, I moved to another line that I thought might move faster.

A man who’d been in front of me in the previous line saw me change lines and said to me with a serious face, “Doing that is guaranteed to slow down the line.”

Now, I’m usually a good-humored person and I’m rarely quick to anger. But this was not a usual day for me. I responded with the words, “Why do you want to fight with me?”

I followed those words with the pitiful statement, “I’ve had a hard day and I don’t know why you care that I changed lines. I just want to go home, make dinner and go to bed.”

As if everybody standing in those lines hadn’t had long days. Some probably way longer than mine.

And then the man’s wife, in a gentle voice said to me, “He’s kidding with you.”

I was mortified.

I apologized for misunderstanding and for my knee-jerk and less-than-kind reaction to his humor.

As I walked away, I was thankful that there were no cameras rolling and that this unflattering moment would not be remembered by anyone beyond an unpleasant experience with a grumpy woman – me - at the grocery store.

The next day after a good night sleep and feeling my happy self once again, I arrived at the front door of my store downtown. There, sitting on the porch was a beautiful purple Cyclamen. Inside the flowers was a note that read:

“Hi Shelley. Hope you had a better day.

Take care.

Neil and Carole from the Co-op.”

I suppose we’re all going to have days and moments like the one I had last Sunday. Sometimes it’s hard being human. And flawed. How wonderful, that on our most difficult days and in our most unbecoming moments, there are people out there to pick us up, forgive us and cheer us on to better days.

I learned two things from this experience: 1. As my son Mick and my friend Jenny remind me quite often, “Always assume positive intent.” And 2. As often as you are able to remember and muster the strength, behave as if the camera is rolling. Put your best foot forward. Be kind. Keep your sense of humor.

And when you’re tired and having one of those days and you’re unable to pull off either one of the practices above, pray that the graceful folks in your path are Neil and Carole from the Co-op.

P.S. If you know Neil and Carole from the Co-op, please send them my regards and thank them for being such lovely humans.