Years ago I learned a very cool thing about Robin Williams, and I couldn’t watch a movie of his afterward without thinking of it. I never actually booked Robin Williams for an event, but I came close enough that his office sent over his rider. For those outside of the entertainment industry, a rider lists out an artist’s specific personal and technical needs for hosting them for an event, anything from bottled water and their green room to sound and lighting requirements. You can learn a lot about a person from their rider. This is where rocks bands list their requirement for green M&Ms (which is actually a surprisingly smart thing to do). This is also where a famous environmentalist requires a large gas-guzzling private jet to fly to the event city, but then requires an electric or hybrid car to take said environmentalist to the event venue when in view of the public.
When I got Robin Williams’ rider, I was very surprised by what I found. He actually had a requirement that for every single event or film he did, the company hiring him also had to hire a certain number of homeless people and put them to work. I never watched a Robin Williams movie the same way after that. I’m sure that on his own time and with his own money, he was working with these people in need, but he’d also decided to use his clout as an entertainer to make sure that production companies and event planners also learned the value of giving people a chance to work their way back. I wonder how many production companies continued the practice into their next non-Robin Williams project, as well as how many people got a chance at a job and the pride of earning an income, even temporarily, from his actions. He was a great multiplier of his impact. Let’s hope that impact lives on without him. Thanks, Robin Williams- not just for laughs, but also for a cool example.
Monthly Archives: August 2014
*stares at Jace because he is gorgeous*
jacewaylandlightwoodherondale:
jacewaylandlightwoodherondale:
jacewaylandlightwoodherondale-d:
Hi?
Other people being rude doesn’t mean I should be rude.
True, but it’s really okay.
*laughs* You’re pretty self-confident — or maybe arrogant is the word I want.
Both are common adjectives.
*shakes her head at him* Well alright, what’s your name, Mr Arrogant?
*stares at Jace because he is gorgeous*
jacewaylandlightwoodherondale:
jacewaylandlightwoodherondale:
jacewaylandlightwoodherondale-d:
Hi?
Oh, uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to — sorry. I was staring — you have the most unusual eyes.
It’s totally alright. People stare all the time.
Other people being rude doesn’t mean I should be rude.
True, but it’s really okay.
*laughs* You’re pretty self-confident — or maybe arrogant is the word I want.
*stares at Jace because he is gorgeous*
jacewaylandlightwoodherondale:
jacewaylandlightwoodherondale-d:
Hi?
Oh, uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to — sorry. I was staring — you have the most unusual eyes.
It’s totally alright. People stare all the time.
Other people being rude doesn’t mean I should be rude.
*stares at Jace because he is gorgeous*
jacewaylandlightwoodherondale-d:
Hi?
Oh, uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to — sorry. I was staring — you have the most unusual eyes.
starter;; sky high au
“That’s not quite what I meant, but okay. Okay. I’m not projecting.” Experimentally, just to see if she even /can/ at this point, really, she tries projecting calm on him. What bits of her are out of control? Is it just her shields, the ones that protect her from everyone else’s emotions? Or is she going to be lashing the people around her with her emotions, or worse, forcing them to feel random things?
She picks at the zipper on her backpack, not looking at Stiles. “It’s okay,” she says softly, listening to the rapid spin of his emotions. “You don’t have to stay here with me.” After all, she knows why he was the only one to say anything. It’s rare for an empath to be in the Hero track; most of the other students don’t know what to do with her. And what she’d done to Jackson, sophomore year, had left a lasting memory.
“Then what did you mean?” Stiles asks, looking at her in curiosity. Then he catches what she says and he finds that she’s not projecting. He would’ve felt a rushing wave of emotion of his body, unnaturally there if she was doing so. He licks his lips absently before he scratches his fingers through his hair, understanding the situation at the moment now. “Shit…you really aren’t projecting.”
He notes how her anxious matters occur, her fingers messing around with the zipper on her backpack. Honestly, Stiles does something similar, only he decides to mess with his nails instead. It’s a much better solution. “I want to stay here, I wouldn’t even be here in the first place if I didn’t want to,” Stiles admits, the compassion in his heart showing on the surface. For someone who was a Hero and not a Sidekick, that was a rather rare occurrence. Honestly, he was sure that was practically unheard of at this point in time.
Summer swallows hard when he acknowledges that she’s not projecting, even when she’s trying to. It doesn’t help; her throat tightens and her eyes burn, and the next blink sends hot drops rolling down her cheeks. She keeps her face turned away from him, so maybe he won’t see, but her voice is high when she speaks.
“Why do you want to?” At least, if she’s shielded enough to keep herself from projecting deliberately, she should be able to keep herself from projecting accidentally. Assuming she doesn’t lose them again.
the Tale of Sir Isaac
Sir Kit practically danced with impotent rage, but his father cut him off with an imperious slash of the hand. He looked over at Isaac, then back to Derek. “God has spoken,” he said, taut anger in his voice. “I don’t have a choice.” He looked for a moment like he wanted to say something else, some threat, but he just turned on his heel. Sir Kit and the other Argent knights fell in behind him.
Summer opened her mouth blindly to Isaac, pressed against the steel of his armour.
“I’m so sorry for putting you through that, Summer … I hope that one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me,” he murmured, allowing the tears to shine in his eyes but stubbornly denying them the opportunity to fall, deeming the act weak after what he’d just achieved. There’d be time enough for that later. “But you’re safe now.”
She shook her head, fingertips curling as though she was looking for some fabric to dig them in to. “Don’t say that,” she pleaded, “please don’t say that. You’re a knight, you fight, that’s what you do. I don’t, I can’t hate you for it.”
the Tale of Sir Isaac
Sir Ennis wiped blood from his eyebrow and nodded, rasping, “I yield,” despite Sir Kit’s enraged shouting. Lord Argent’s face was set with fury, but he didn’t speak. Summer slowly relaxed back into her seat, letting go of Cora’s hand to press them both over her mouth. Now that it was over, the tension collapsed in on her, and she felt on the verge of tears.
The Prince stood up and beckoned to the two champions, and to Lord Argent. “Are you satisfied?” he asked.
When he deemed it to be safe, Sir Isaac nodded and did what most Knights would not do — he held out his hand and shook Sir Ennis’s, before turning on his heel and striding across the field. Ignoring the cheers and demands of those around him, Isaac vaulted over the stands and pulled Summer up into his arms, kissing her soundly on the lips.
Sir Kit practically danced with impotent rage, but his father cut him off with an imperious slash of the hand. He looked over at Isaac, then back to Derek. “God has spoken,” he said, taut anger in his voice. “I don’t have a choice.” He looked for a moment like he wanted to say something else, some threat, but he just turned on his heel. Sir Kit and the other Argent knights fell in behind him.
Summer opened her mouth blindly to Isaac, pressed against the steel of his armour.
