Glass ceilings are career limiting but so are glass doors.
In my work as a corporate video producer/strategist, I am always juggling roles, talent, locations, scripts and opportunities. Especially while on location. You don’t want to forget a vital piece or add something you haven’t thought about that would enhance the finished piece. It’s very easy to get distracted. So, while working on a five year anniversary piece for a client, I spied the brand new head of commercial operations in his shiny new, all glass office out of the corner of my eye.
I made a mental note to get his thoughts on his new role on camera and also introduce him to the company formally. I quickly introduced myself, gave him a heads up and told him I would be back when he was free. There was no way I was going to leave that building without getting him on camera. Always thinking, that’s me.
A few hours went by and we continued interviewing, filming and hunting down worthy targets for this momentous occasion that would be played for the whole company on it’s fifth anniversary. Finally, I see him. He looks like he’s ready. Elbows on his desk and a very pleasant look on his face. It’s 4:30 and it’s now or never. I tell my partner to get ready to wheel the equipment into his office after I rush in and set him up.
I never saw the glass door. I hit it with such force the people on the first floor felt the impact. I just remember blackness spreading through my consciousness similar to the sensation of laying under a glass coffee table and someone pouring ink on it and letting it spread.
The horrified look on the guy’s face was bad enough but most of the floor came running at me to catch me and someone demanded an ambulance. I am dazed, embarrassed and mortified. But I need that shot. My partner is yelling “your nose is broke,your nose is broke.” I give him a look while they slap ice on me and tell everyone I’m fine. I’m not, but I have work to do.
I push through the crowd of concerned on lookers and make my way to my victim’s office. Seems he had been on a conference call when I tried to make my first grand entrance but he had time now. I nailed the interview and we packed up our gear to head home. I have a nasty headache but at least I accomplished what I set out to do.
The impact of that glass door was something I hadn’t felt in years. When you grow up in Somerville, sucker punches were a common occurrence, so I felt some nostalgia along with the gash across the top of my nose.
The next morning, my wife said I was acting slurry and thought I was hitting up the muscle relaxers. I was not. (That day) The following morning I got an e-mail at 7:58 am requesting some shots back in Cambridge. I tried to call my partner, Jesse, to cover but he was busy. So I hastily pack and start to run out the door. Susan stops me and asks me if I’m OK and I say yes, but I don’t feel good about the whole situation. Always listen to your intuition.
I never made it out of my neighborhood. I was so dizzy, distracted and preoccupied, I ended up in the trees sucking on an airbag and my nostrils were filled with something similar to gun powder.
The EMT’s showed up and I ended up in the emergency room. I was fine. Not a scratch. Amazing. I told Susan I still needed to get into Cambridge but she had already called the client. I loved my 2014 Lexus SUV but it was totalled.
I could state the obvious lessons to other Type A’s but pictures are worth more than words. Pace yourself and always trust your gut. Nuff’ said.