Not Just Blowing Smoke

“The truth may make you odd.” Judy Blume

While I have always inhaled life, they say you never forget smoking your first cigarette. My memory of this experience is somewhat different and artificial from the reasons you might imagine.

Gauging from my style of clothing and every nuance of my surroundings, the year is 1973. I know better than to judge a book by its cover but my mind wrestles with convincing me otherwise. I am sitting alone at the counter of an eatery in one of those new shopping adventures called a mall. Immortal actress Susan Sarandon walks by. Her presence alone graces the company of Mark Wahlberg. I pay them no mind because that is what I am being paid to do.

A robotic camera mount hooked to a long swinging arm pans the crowd. Although distant, it films in my way direction. From my padded bar stool, I suck on a cigarette like a good actor faking a bad habit. I motion to the big haired waitress for a cup of coffee. Take after take, I blow billowing smoke in the air in a time dated backdrop to public places of yesteryear. I feel light-headed.

There is a break in the action to check the playback on the last scene. Academy award winning director, Peter Jackson soon enters the same eatery. He offers last minute recital to actor Reece Ritchie, who stealthy appeared on the set. Chatting only a few feet from my perch, my mouse ears stay glued to their conversation. My shortened cigarette end singes my fingers to remind me not only of the dangers of smoking but of my small role in the making of this movie, The Lovely Bones.

Once maestro Peter Jackson is satisfied how the scene will play out, he leaves the establishment. Reece hikes himself up on the bar stool next to me as an entire set prepares the many pieces and checkpoints before filming can occur. Reece tells me he flew in from England to play Ray Singh, the boyfriend of Susie Salmon in the feature film.

“Backstage I started reading the best selling book.” I mused. “Here is some irony. Off camera, the author Alice Sebold just introduced me to your character.”

“What do you think?” hoodwinked the teenager.

I marveled at the art imitating life. “Great casting but I must remember to never read the book when filming the movie. The characters are jumping straight from the pages onto the set. It's wild.”

The director quieted the set with an English accent laden with pedigree and order. Reece walked away to stand on his first mark. As I often do, I snapped a picture of the ironic moment in my mind for total recall. Then I returned to smoking my first cigarette, the Lovely Bone that it was.