We wandered around the place and settled on a space in an upper gallery, below the rotunda, with an arched window, unmarred by electric outlets or helpful informational signs. And we started shooting. If visitors walked past, we just paused for them, and they smiled and moved on.

We’re an easygoing folk, we Minnesotans.

Making a film, even on a small, independent scale, is pretty much like they say in the books about Hollywood. You wait around till everything is set up, and then you shoot – and re-shoot. You re-shoot if you blow a line. But you also re-shoot to give the editors options. The same scene gets shot from different angles, from different points of view (over different characters’ shoulders). You shoot from a distance and close up. And sometimes just because the director feels like he needs one more for luck.

After shooting in the upper gallery, we went down to the capitol basement, which is built of big stone blocks and fairly castle-ish. The scenes they shot there did not involve me, so I rested on the bottom step of a stairway, where I could sit in relative comfort. I needed the rest. The scenes I’d shot had involved some kneeling, and kneeling is a challenge for old bones. Holding a kneeling position is worse.

A security guard approached me where I sat, and asked if I was all right. (Understandably.) I explained what we were doing, and instead of going officious and talking about regulations and permits, he got all interested. He was, he told me, a gamer, and he thought this sort of thing was cool. He asked me to ask the whole group to stop at his desk at the main entrance when we left, so he could get our picture.

(I have copies of the pictures he took, but I have neither his permission nor those of the other actors and crew to use them, so I won’t post them here. But they’re pretty awesome).

Then we trudged back to our car, and drove back to the cellar, where we shot my final scene in front of the green screen. More kneeling, I’m afraid.

Harder work than you’d expect. I kept thinking back to an article I’d read long ago, about Sir Laurence Olivier while they were shooting “Marathon Man.” How they’d trundled him onto the shooting stage in a wheelchair, hooked up to an oxygen tank. When they were ready to shoot he’d stand up, visibly drop about twenty years, and do his Olivier thing. Once the director yelled, “Cut!” he’d collapse into the wheelchair again.

I could identify.

Sunday a friend and I drove out to visit another old friend who’s pretty much house-bound these days. Talked for several hours. Had a good time.

For me, that was a busy couple days. On Memorial Day itself, I put out my American flag and ate a couple hot dogs. Otherwise, I spent it quietly, recuperating. I’m still pretty stiff.

But it was fun. You need to be an actor to understand how much fun it is, and why it’s worth a little discomfort.

When the film is finished, I’ll link to it, if I’m able.