Arson Day

I just realized that I never posted this. I wrote it shortly after the incedent, but then life happened and... Oops!!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy the post.

On January 2^nd at around two in the morning, I was sleeping soundly when I heard a loud banging, like somebody was outside with a wrench banging on the pipes. I stumbled out of bed and groggily went to investigate the sound. I literally lifted the lid of my toilet and looked in. I don’t know what I expected to find, but I was still asleep and that’s where the noise was coming from so…

I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary (I bet you could have figured that part out), but when I stood back up, I smelled something peculiar. It was smoke. I’ve smelled a fire burning a ways away, it smells like wood burning, but this smelled different. This smelled chemically, like plastic burning. Then it hit me, my place was on fire.

But wait, let me set the stage. Two days before was New Years Eve, and with my daughter out of town visiting my ex-wife, I decided to go with a friend to a party. The designated driver lived in Hollywood and I left my car, a Prius, at his place. 

There had been news reports of  an arsonist that had lit a string of fires the previous night in Hollywood and West Hollywood. He had lit cars on fire and the cars had caught the surrounding buildings on fire. Aparently he was on a rampage again because while we were partying, the New Years broadcast was intermittently interrupt  with info on the arsonist. I jokingly said that I hoped my car was safe.

When we arrived the next morning, New Years Day, I wiped my forehead in an exaggerated motion exclaiming my luck that my car was still there and had not been torched overnight. You never think something like that will actually happen to you, and I guess joking about it helps to relieve any concern.

New Years Day was recuperation day. After a night of New Years Eve frivolity, it was nice just to hang out, and relax at my place in Sherman Oaks (a long way from Hollywood). I watched movies and chilled all day long. I was tired early, so I went to bed around 10 pm anticipating a long and good sleep.

Next thing I knew, it’s two in the morning, and I had my head in a toilet investigating a sound. When I came to the realization that it was MY place that was on fire, I went from groggy to wide-awake in a nano-second; my brain was instantly firing at a million miles an hour. I had three things to do: 1) get dressed, 2) find my backpack, and 3) put my laptop in it.

I turned on a light and began to get ready. I knew it was chilly outside, so I grabbed a thermal and threw on my jeans, and I remember taking a moment to choose what T-shirt I would wear. Strange that I would take the time to do that, but I did.

The power went out, but I could still see enough to continue to getting dressed. I could see smoke hanging thick in the air even though there was no light. It was kinda spooky.

While I was putting my shoes and socks on I heard someone honking their horn outside, and I instantly knew that whoever it was, they were trying to help. They were doing whatever they could to make sure that everyone in my apartment complex was awake.

I could hear a fire engine getting closer and then farther away. I wondered, “They missed my place?!? How come fire trucks and ambulances always miss where the emergency is?"

I grabbed my wallet and keys and left the bedroom.

My backpack is set up so I can last a week with what’s in there. Well, not food, but toothbrush and toothpaste and that kind of stuff, and I’ve got a case of water and a blanket in the back of my car… I’m prepared you know, for a zombie attack, or an earthquake... or a spontaneous romantic encounter...

My laptop was plugged in at the dining table, and my backpack was right there as well, so I unplugged the laptop, put it in the backpack and I was out the door.

I was a man on a mission, laser focused. As I left my apartment I saw out of the corner of my eye that people were moving around. I heard someone knocking on one of my neighbors doors, and I heard them utter the word fire, so without shifting my focus, I understood that all my neighbors were being helped, so I didn’t need to concern myself with them.

My apartment is at the back of the apartment complex, right above the carport where my car is parked. Behind my complex is a paved alley chock full of potholes, and behind that, is an open-air parking lot for a strip mall.

Somehow I knew that the fire was coming from the carport under my apartment, so I ran downstairs and down the walkway toward the fire to see what was happening.

As I rounded the corner I saw that the car that was parked next to my Prius was on fire, and that the surrounding area was also burning. I couldn’t tell if my car was on fire, or if it was just in the fire, but there was certainly fire in the general area. I thought that if I could save my car I would, so I jumped in it and started it up. I was slightly surprised that it started (I guess that reinforced the belief that my car was NOT on fire). I backed the car out of my parking space and into the alley behind my place. It was then that I noticed a little flame on the hood of the car.

My mind raced trying to figure out what to do. I saw the long alley ahead of me and thought, “Maybe if I drive fast enough I could blow the flame out.” I floored it, bouncing over potholes all the way. When I got to the end of the alley I saw that the flame was still burning so I decided to give it another try thinking that the potholes might have slowed me down.

I shot around the corner and down the long street that runs in front of my complex. About half way down that street my car began to fill up with smoke, and I realized that my car, was indeed on fire. I thought for a moment that I should pull over and get out of my burning car, but then I realized that the fire department would have to put out fires in two locations instead of just one. So I decided to drive back to where the fire was burning.

I noticed a bright light behind me, but I didn’t have time to investigate it. I instead kept it floored and flew to the end of the street. I pulled around and parked in the open-air parking lot behind my complex. I grabbed my backpack and got out of my burning car. The bright light that had been following me was from a cop car. I’m sure the sight of my flaming Prius, flying down the road caught their attention.

I pulled the water and blanket from the back of my burning car, and moved all of my belongings to a safe place away from the flames. It was weird to stand there with my car burning in the foreground, and my burning apartment in the background. I thought I was going to loose ALL my belongings, and for a brief but practical moment I thought, “I should have gotten renter’s insurance.”

The fire department arrived a few moments later, and quickly put out the fire from the other car and then put out the fire that was threatening my complex. Then they came over and put out my car. I had plenty of time to take a couple of really cool pictures of my flaming Prius; an opportunity like that doesn’t come around all that often.

It turned out that there was another fire in my neighborhood that was started a few minutes before mine. The Fire Department had gone to that fire first, that’s why they had driven past my place earlier.

My brain and body were still amped and moving a million miles an hour. I told my story over and over again to the firemen and the police in hopes that some piece of information might be able to help. The detective and fire marshal I met with said that by moving my car, I probably saved my entire apartment complex from burning.

I learned that this was the same arsonist that had been working the previous two nights in Hollywood, and West Hollywood. Why he decided to come into the valley, to my house, is anyone's guess.

I was allowed to re-enter my apartment and I grabbed a jacket, which I hadn’t done earlier (oops), and I changed into my waterproof boots (surprisingly, a lot of water is used to put out fires, duh). My place was filled with firemen and they told me they couldn’t find any “hotspots” meaning that both my place, and all my belongings were saved.

I went back downstairs, and by that time an independent news reporter had arrived on the scene. He asked if I would agree to an interview, so I told my story to him as well, this time on camera.

After the fire was out, everything began to calm down and one by one people started to leave. Eventually I found myself alone, and I had no clue what to do, so I made a couple of phone calls. First, I called my insurance company, and they were great on the phone. Then I called my sister. She’s on the east coast, so I thought she might be awake, but it went to voice mail anyway. Then I called my ex-wife to let her and my daughter know. At that point I had officially run out of people to talk to so, I went to bed.

The Morning After

It turned out that a portion of my interview played on NPR, and NBC Nightly News. I became a mini celebrity. I posted everything up on Facebook, and all my friends were really sympathetic, concerned, and supportive. My insurance was really generous, and I was able to buy a new car that I really love. It’s a red Volkswagen GTI and if you ask me, I’ll be happy to give you a ride, so I can show it off.

Tears of a Hybrid

My insurance company, AIS, treated me so great that I insured my new car with them, and I got renters insurance through them as well. I wound up telling my story to the DJ on the local radio station, KROQ, and it was cut together as a commercial for AIS that ran for about two weeks. After driving my new car for a while, I've realized that driving my Prius had made me feel like an old man; my new car makes me feel vibrant and I can't tell you how much better that feels. 

All in all, my encounter with the arsonist has turned out to be one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I'd highly recommend it to all of you. ;-)

WOW!!! What A Year!

--> This is going to be a personal blog post. I’m mostly writing it for my own reference so that I can look back at all that’s happened in my life and see in what year all these changes began. I’ve made it public so feel free to read it if you want, but you will probably only care if you’re a really close friend or related to me.

In December of 2010 I knew exactly what 2011 was going to look like. It was going to be pretty much like the previous several years. It couldn’t have turned out more different.

Up to that point I’d never made New Years resolutions. My philosophy was when I saw something that needs to change in my life I changed it, regardless of the time of year. But last year was different. I don’t know if you’d call it a resolutions or not, but I made a decision to listen to my gut throughout the year. This was going to be a total change in how I would go through my life.

For the previous 15 years or more, I had been living my life from my head thinking and planning everything, so the change to trusting my gut was not an easy one, and quite often through the year I found myself in my head.

The first thing I learned was that unlike my head my gut would tell me to do things but it would not prioritize them. That was confusing at the beginning of the year but it got easier. Often through out the year I needed someone to point out what my gut had been yelling at me. As soon as they said it I knew that it was the right thing, but I still found myself arguing against it.

For instance in early April, I got a call from my ex-wife while I was in NYC for a film festival. Some things had happened in her life that had negatively impacted her health and her financial situation, and on top of that my daughter Chantez was not doing well in school. While at the New York film festival I was staying with my sister who lives in New Jersey, and when I related the above phone call she suggested that I have Chantez move in with me in California. I threw up all sorts of reasons why that couldn’t happen, but the truth was, my gut had been telling me that very thing since the fall but I had ignored it.

My daughter moved in with me in July and has become an A/B student during her first semester.

I mentioned the film festival. I started the year as a director and worked feverishly through the first quarter to try to put together a music video and several commercials, but each one of them fell apart and I realized that I didn't care enough to put in the work to try and put them back together.

While I was in NYC I had a realization that my favorite part of the filmmaking process was production. Production was the little sweet spot I the middle of a project where I got to work with the actors. I didn’t love pre production and really couldn’t care less about post. I wanted to spend all my time working with actors, so I decided I would change my pursuit: I was going to be an acting coach instead of a director.

I set up a class and a website and started a blog. The class never happened because no one signed up. I then found out that the name of my website was already the name of a very popular acting book, so I scrapped that site and launched another website.

I was restless because this direction didn’t feel right either. It wasn’t until I was on the phone with my friend Doug that I was able to understand what my gut had been trying to tell me for a while: I wasn’t supposed to be in the entertainment industry at all. Doug said, “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been 'Eric the actor,' and then 'Eric the director' and now 'Eric the acting coach.' Maybe it’s time for you to try just being Eric.”

That freaked me out a bit, because I didn’t know who Eric was, or what I should do with that piece of information. When I’d introduce myself as “Eric the actor,” “Eric the director,” or “Eric the acting coach,” I had some built in cool points. People liked those guys, and I wasn't sure they would like just Eric.

During my time in the entertainment industry, I had to work a day job to make ends meet and I lucked into a great one. I had been a bellman at two hotels and loved it. Not only did I love it, but also, I was good at it. While in the hospitality industry I figured out some secrets as to how to deliver excellent service, a service philosophy so to speak, and I was asked to share this philosophy by training all the new hires.

Now that I was no longer pursuing a career in the entertainment field, I decided that I'd go back to work as a bellman, but I couldn't just be a bellman, I had to be something special. I started my job search and I launched another blog called “How To Deliver Superhero Service” (SuperheroService.blogspot.com) that explains in detail all of the things I’d learned doing that job.

I talked to a guy that I used to work for who now runs another hotel, and although he had no openings we did have a great conversation. He told me some of the challenges he was facing, and I was able to offer him an outsider’s perspective and some new ideas and strategies. I got so much out of our conversation that I volunteered to help him on an ongoing basis, and began to call myself a consultant and trainer.

At some point I began to realize that I was doing it all over again, I was now “Eric the consultant and trainer.” BTW, nothing so far has come of my working with that guy.

Then it hit me that I have spent my whole adult life trying to build a life with the tools that I have already acquired. My gut began to tell me that I needed more tools in order to build the life I truly wanted, so I decided to go back to college.

On the plane on my way back from Thanksgiving with my sister and her family I sat next to a guy who asked what I did. I told him that I was in between things. To his follow up question I told him that I used to be a director, but had recently quit and that I was going to go back to school. When he asked what I was going to study, I responded honestly, knowing that I’d never see this guy again, and admitted that I didn’t know. Three things happened at that moment: first, giving up the pretense that I had it all under control felt good, second, the world didn’t crash down around me, and third the guy wasn’t disappointed or shocked or… anything. He just accepted that information, and more importantly, he accepted me at face value. The most surprising thing, to me anyway, was that he continued to be friendly and interested in me.

This year has been nothing if not unpredictable, scary, out-of-control, bizarre, strange and unpredictable (did I say that already…?). But I am happier, and I feel like I’m finally getting on the right track.

So here we are, going into 2012 and I’m here to tell you that the only thing I know for sure that’s going to happen this year is that I’m going to spend the next 365 days listening to and trusting my gut.