Winning

Winning

Clyde and I apply to be contestants on The Amazing Race, the CBS series involving a frantic race around the world.

Part of the application process involves creating a video. I write an elaborate script, complete with a series of sight gags designed to get the attention of the producers. After composing it, I like it … but my enthusiasm over the idea fades as the time to shoot the video draws near.

I’m in the shower (I do my best thinking there) when I experience an unexpected insight: as does any reality show, The Amazing Race involves capturing people as they really are. The show is shot and edited on the fly. Instead of an audition tape that shows how clever we can be under artificial conditions … shouldn’t the tape show us as we really are?

So I compromise. Our video (maximum length, 3 minutes) begins with an admission that we planned something elaborate (and provides glimpses of the more bizarre set pieces, including a faux-German art flick and a rip-off of The Blair Witch Project). Then, we point out that, ultimately, it’s more important for the producers to know us as we really are. After all — that’s what they’ll have to work with if we wind up on the show.

I spend two hours editing and assembling the program. Much of the footage features the two of us telling stories, laughing, talking. In early shots, taken as practice the night before, Clyde and I both are making too much of an effort to be bright and appealing — we come across as giddy.

As we become more and more comfortable in front of the camera together, we relax. In the shots I use for the video, there’s no pretense. I’m particularly impressed with how well Clyde comes across on camera: in the later footage, he’s so open, and so completely himself.

* * * * *

The paper applications ask us each to answer this question: “What famous person is your partner most like?” We’re supposed to fill out the applications independently of each other, without sharing our answers until the end.

Clyde writes: “Mark is more like himself than he is like any famous person. And that’s perfect — because he’s going to be famous some day.”

This simple statement of faith catches me off-guard. I stand in our office, my eyes filled with tears, staring at this quiet, gentle man … and know that, whatever happens with the show, I’m already a winner.

That winning started, in fact, the day Clyde came into my life.

Clyde and I apply to be contestants on The Amazing Race, the CBS series involving a frantic race around the world.

Part of the application process involves creating a video. I write an elaborate script, complete with a series of sight gags designed to get the attention of the producers. After composing it, I like it … but my enthusiasm over the idea fades as the time to shoot the video draws near.

I’m in the shower (I do my best thinking there) when I experience an unexpected insight: as does any reality show, The Amazing Race involves capturing people as they really are. The show is shot and edited on the fly. Instead of an audition tape that shows how clever we can be under artificial conditions … shouldn’t the tape show us as we really are?

So I compromise. Our video (maximum length, 3 minutes) begins with an admission that we planned something elaborate (and provides glimpses of the more bizarre set pieces, including a faux-German art flick and a rip-off of The Blair Witch Project). Then, we point out that, ultimately, it’s more important for the producers to know us as we really are. After all — that’s what they’ll have to work with if we wind up on the show.

I spend two hours editing and assembling the program. Much of the footage features the two of us telling stories, laughing, talking. In early shots, taken as practice the night before, Clyde and I both are making too much of an effort to be bright and appealing — we come across as giddy.

As we become more and more comfortable in front of the camera together, we relax. In the shots I use for the video, there’s no pretense. I’m particularly impressed with how well Clyde comes across on camera: in the later footage, he’s so open, and so completely himself.

* * * * *

The paper applications ask us each to answer this question: “What famous person is your partner most like?” We’re supposed to fill out the applications independently of each other, without sharing our answers until the end.

Clyde writes: “Mark is more like himself than he is like any famous person. And that’s perfect — because he’s going to be famous some day.”

This simple statement of faith catches me off-guard. I stand in our office, my eyes filled with tears, staring at this quiet, gentle man … and know that, whatever happens with the show, I’m already a winner.

That winning started, in fact, the day Clyde came into my life.

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

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Who Wrote This?

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

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