We work like crazy. As a studio manager/producer/assistant/blogger life very rarely slows down to the point where I can step back and reflect on it. When it does though, I find myself mulling over aspects of this job that might seem so inconsequential, but for me hold deeper meanings. Iâ€™ve decided to start this monthly series on the blog to take a minute and stop, reflect, and write about some of the aspects of being a studio manager that really impact me. These are my studio manager meditations.
My Last Trip to Calumet
Earlier this month, I started off my morning in a fairly normal fashion: coffee, a quick breakfast, hopping in my car and stopping by Calumet on the way to the studio. We needed a few A clamps – nothing more, nothing less. In every respect, it was a perfectly normal trip. I browsed around for a few minutes looking for odds and ends, bullshittedÂ appropriately with the employees, paid for our new A clamps and got on with the rest of my day.
A week later, Calumet filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy overnight and closed every single one of it’s US stores. Chris and I were in San Fransisco on a shoot when I woke up to the news – plastered all over Facebook and social networks that the longstanding photo supplier shut it’s doors without telling a single soul. Maybe it was the haze of jet lag or a slight hangover from the beer I’d consumed the night before, but I didn’t quite believe it. This couldn’t be – I was just there, I just bought A clamps, it was business as usual.
I made a few calls – first to the Philadelphia store; nothing. With no answer on that line, I made a call to one of the only people who I knew could give me a definitive answer. I dialed the cell number of one of our guys at the Philadelphia store. What I’d heard was confirmed – the news was not good, our conversation was short and I immediately realized the worst part of the situation. It wasn’t the equipment, it wasn’t the studio supplies, the rental gear, or any of the actual things Calumet sold. The worst part of this situation was the abrupt and unfair blow the company dealt to its employees.
This blog post goes out to those guys – I wont name names here, but you all know who you are.
Thank you. Thank you for that morning earlier this month when I came in, browsed around, bullshitted, and bought A clamps. Thank you for the years of great service and even better friendship. Thank you for putting up with all of the Crisman team’s craziness and requests. Thank you for everything, it won’t be forgotten.