Back in May, I told a friend I’d move to LA on my birthday. I didn’t know how I was going to make that happen. It was just something I said out loud, hoping I’d eventually figure out the logistics.
Then, on my birthday, I moved to LA. New city. New job. Fourteen days later, I was at the Emmys wearing a tux for the first time.
A fairly good occasion to start, although Los Angeles could have turned the heat down a little. I’d imagined feeling like James Bond. Mostly, I was wondering whether everyone else was this sweaty and just better at hiding it.
Years ago, when I was at Prime Video, I worked on Manchester by the Sea and was invited to attend the Oscars with the marketing team. But there were things happening with my family, and being away didn’t feel right. I stayed home.
I still thought about that night over the years. I knew why I’d stayed, but I also knew how much I’d wanted to go.
So standing at the Emmys, barely two weeks after moving here, meant something. Back in May, I hadn’t even known how I’d get to LA. Now I was adjusting a bow tie and getting my camera ready on a red carpet.
Having a camera helped. It gave me something to do with my hands and a reason to look closely: a quick laugh, a breath between interviews, the little moments around the moment everyone came to see.
I was there to work, but I was also the person who’d said something hopeful to a friend back in May. I tried to give him a minute to take it in.
Then I went back to sweating.