Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/1546034
23 F A L L Q 3 I S S U E U N I O N M A D E public-access TV station as a PA and eventu- ally worked my way up to program director. That was my college. I learned by doing local television. I shot and edited footage, made and fixed mistakes, learned to deal with others' egos, and got the program out. I had friends who worked in the news business in Boston, so I made my way there and landed a job as an editor at a local station. My first day was the Columbine shooting. Later came the death of JFK Jr., the 2000 election, 9/11, the Station nightclub fire, and Katrina. News k e e p s y o u h o n e s t . A s editors, we had an obli- gation to tell the story in its purest form and give the audience the truth: real people, real grief, real fear, and real time. P r o b a b l y 1 0 y e a r s too late, in search of new challenges, I moved to Los Angeles with a pregnant wife and a 15-month-old b o y. I s t i l l l o v e d s h o w business — the studios, t h e s o u n d s t a g e s , t h e edit bays, the chaos, the people, and the strange version of Hollywood that lives in your head before you ever get there. Just seeing the Hollywood sign turned me on. I worked as an assistant editor and editor on shows, independent projects, doc- umentaries, pilots, promos, news, sports, PA work, and whatever else kept me close to this wonderful, crazy mayhem we all know and love. I love walking into an edit bay for the first time, being at the beginning of a new project. It's like you have this new world to explore. At the best times, the edits seem to come from nowhere; you work seamlessly and feel like there's this guiding spirit that is just working. Musicians call it being "in the pocket." Then, maybe the next day, nothing will go right. But with persever- ance, a great producer, and maybe a few notes, magic can still happen. The first time I really felt like I was part of Hollywood was when I became a member of the Motion Picture Editors Guild. I had been around unions before in broadcast, electrical, and technical work, but this one felt different. Being in the Guild means a lot to me. I am part of something that has a long history. I haven't done what I set out to do yet, but I am part of the craft. And the union matters. I've been around productions where people are treated badly. That is why the union matters. The hours matter. The health plan matters. The pension matters. The credit matters. The life outside the room matters. There are costs to this career. I paid a high price chasing my dream. My parents passed away back East while I was out in Los Angeles trying to make it. My marriage did not survive the uncertainty and stress of this business. I worried about the impact of this highly demanding job on my kids. B e i n g i n t h e u n i o n has made me aware that nearly everyone else has the same concerns, too. We love what we do, but we must take care of the rest of our lives. Unlike the shows we work on, we don't go into syndication. We only get one run. Local 700 is not just a card. It's a sanctuary. It is a place where people understand the real cost of this life, and what we all go through for it: The ups and downs, the phone c a l l s t h a t d o n' t c o m e , the stress, the success, the failure, the fear, the pride, the rejection, and the comeback. We are all part of the same insanity. We are all, in some way, p a t i e n t s i n t h e s a m e sanitarium, still believing we'll make the cut on time. When we edit, we cut for emotional impact. And although we may not always think of it this way, we often live our lives that way, too – making choices for what feels right, for what turns us on. Our lives are a bunch of keyframes, and it's how we work each one that counts. I told myself that if I ever drove south on the 170 and the Hollywood and Los Angeles signs no longer turned me on, it would be time to go back home to Boston. They still turn me on. ■ Darrin Quigley is on the Guild's Publications Committee. Darrin Quigley. I love walking into the edit bay for the first time.