Wednesday, June 01, 2005
THE STORY BEHIND THE EMAIL
I was not clear with this story. And that has lead some to be very confused by what transpired over the weekend. The email posted was sent to me was from someone named Clint…not someone impersonating him. It just wasn’t the right Clint.
Here’s what happened:
In addition to our search through all of the auto body shops in this part of the San Fernando Valley, we also compiled “Clint lists.” Anyone who had been to our house in January would have seen these lists scattered all about the floor. Basically, they were lists of people named Clint (or Clinton) who lived in this area. I discovered that on yahoo search, you can do a person search by state, using just a first name. Hundreds of people came up in the California search, but we were able to narrow them down based on location and based on age (in some instances you are able to approximate the age of the person). Granted, this is not a complete listing and the person either has to list themselves or has to have a landline phone in their name that would be listed. So, it was entirely possible that he was not even one of these people. I, for example, have never had a landline phone or any utilities in my name, and am, therefore, next to impossible to search for. But we figured, if all else failed with the mechanic lists, we could start calling up some of these people just to see what would happen. I knew he was around the area of North Hollywood, so that was the first list we would use. There was a name on the list: Clint Borden. One night I dreamed that this, out of all the names, was his name. So, the next day, Beth and I drove to North Hollywood to drive by the house and see what it looked like. There were several pick-up trucks parked outside (including a couple of white ones and as Beth has always said, only mechanics drive white pick-up trucks). There were also several really old cars parked out front, and in most instances, these are the kind of cars owned by mechanics because in order to have a really old car, you really need to know how to fix it. So, this looked like it could be our guy.
Finally, one day in January, I got up the nerve to call the house. No one picked up. The answering machine said: “This is Clint. Leave me a message.” So, I left one. I explained who I was and who I was looking for. I said, “I don’t know if you are the right Clint. If you are, call me back. If you’re not, I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
No one called back.
It was the next day we located Carter’s Auto. And once we had found that and confirmed with him that the Clint at Carter’s was probably our guy, we basically abandoned the “Clint lists.”
Then this past Friday afternoon, after Beth visited Mr. Carter, we drove around taking pictures of some of the significant sights in this story so we could post them on the www.findaclint.org website. These included: the sight of the first meeting, Carter’s Auto, The Black Broom (the pagan store Clint told me about), etc. It was when we were driving around in that neighborhood that Beth said, “Hey remember that house we thought he lived in? What was that guy’s name?”
“Borden,” I replied. “It was Clint Borden.”
“Well, we should take a picture of the house. It’s one of the Clint sights.”
So, we drove down Denny Ave one more time. Man, this house sure looks like the place where a young mechanic and all of his dudes and buddies might live. And I started thinking about it. What if it really was him and the message someone got erased or he never heard it or something? I mentioned this to Beth.
“I just wish there was some way we could find out for sure that it wasn’t him,” I said.
So, we devised a brilliant scheme. And we felt even if it turned out that this wasn’t him, what a great scene this was going to be in the movie.
On Monday, Memorial Day, we drove to North Hollywood. We drove to Ralph’s and bought some balloons and a little card to attach to them. The only balloons that didn’t have hearts or bears or something lame like that on them were American flag balloons. It was Memorial Day, afterall. The plan was that Beth would park the car on Denny Ave. Then, impersonating an FTD delivery person, she would walk up to the house to deliver the balloons. If Clint was there, she could then get a description of him. If he fit the description and she was pretty sure this was him, I would then go up to the door and re-introduce myself. If it was clearly not him, then at least we would know.
However, nobody answered the door, so Beth attached the balloons to the porch with a card that said: “To Clint. From a secret admirer. If you are interested in learning who this person is, please email her at: aislin_lumina@hotmail.com”
And that was that.
But that night, I received the email which was posted on the blog. Oh my god…could this really be him? I wrote back that I was searching for a Clint that I had met awhile back who was from Tennessee. I was hoping this was him.
Yesterday, he wrote back that he was not from Tennessee but that he had been there. He thought maybe he had told me that. He said he worked in the film and TV industry and meets lots of people. He told me that he believed in “random chances” and maybe this had all happened so he and I would meet.
That’s sweet. But he’s not the right Clint. My Clint really told me that he was from Tennessee. And he really told me that he was a mechanic. And though I do believe in “random chances,” I have to find the right Clint.
What is so important about this part of the story, however, is the fact that this random person…who is only associated with this story because he is a young man also named Clint living in North Hollywood…this random person WANTS to be the Clint we’re looking for. He WANTS to be part of the story. He WISHES that it was him we were looking for. Because at the end of the day, we all want to be part of something big. What this shows me is that if some random person who is not part of the story is so flattered and intrigued by all of this, imagine how the person who IS part of the story will feel…I imagine the “right” Clint will be even more flattered and intrigued.
We just have to hold fast to hope.
He will go back to Carter’s…
And speaking of Carter, on Friday Beth had a nice chat with him. Carter told her that he had learned from one of Clint’s friends that Clint had been out of town in Northern California on business. Apparently, he does something with computers. Now, of course, this is all translated through Mr. Carter, so we don’t really know exactly what this means and what it is he does with computers (for all we know, he may have been learning about building and repairing the computers in newer automobiles). But if he has been away learning this new job, that helps explain why he hasn’t been around the shop. But still, he has known Carter for many years. And he wouldn’t just decide to never speak to him again. He has to return at some point. Carter is confident of this.
And as Mr. Carter says, “You just have to be diligent. This will work out.”
Updates to follow…
I was not clear with this story. And that has lead some to be very confused by what transpired over the weekend. The email posted was sent to me was from someone named Clint…not someone impersonating him. It just wasn’t the right Clint.
Here’s what happened:
In addition to our search through all of the auto body shops in this part of the San Fernando Valley, we also compiled “Clint lists.” Anyone who had been to our house in January would have seen these lists scattered all about the floor. Basically, they were lists of people named Clint (or Clinton) who lived in this area. I discovered that on yahoo search, you can do a person search by state, using just a first name. Hundreds of people came up in the California search, but we were able to narrow them down based on location and based on age (in some instances you are able to approximate the age of the person). Granted, this is not a complete listing and the person either has to list themselves or has to have a landline phone in their name that would be listed. So, it was entirely possible that he was not even one of these people. I, for example, have never had a landline phone or any utilities in my name, and am, therefore, next to impossible to search for. But we figured, if all else failed with the mechanic lists, we could start calling up some of these people just to see what would happen. I knew he was around the area of North Hollywood, so that was the first list we would use. There was a name on the list: Clint Borden. One night I dreamed that this, out of all the names, was his name. So, the next day, Beth and I drove to North Hollywood to drive by the house and see what it looked like. There were several pick-up trucks parked outside (including a couple of white ones and as Beth has always said, only mechanics drive white pick-up trucks). There were also several really old cars parked out front, and in most instances, these are the kind of cars owned by mechanics because in order to have a really old car, you really need to know how to fix it. So, this looked like it could be our guy.
Finally, one day in January, I got up the nerve to call the house. No one picked up. The answering machine said: “This is Clint. Leave me a message.” So, I left one. I explained who I was and who I was looking for. I said, “I don’t know if you are the right Clint. If you are, call me back. If you’re not, I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
No one called back.
It was the next day we located Carter’s Auto. And once we had found that and confirmed with him that the Clint at Carter’s was probably our guy, we basically abandoned the “Clint lists.”
Then this past Friday afternoon, after Beth visited Mr. Carter, we drove around taking pictures of some of the significant sights in this story so we could post them on the www.findaclint.org website. These included: the sight of the first meeting, Carter’s Auto, The Black Broom (the pagan store Clint told me about), etc. It was when we were driving around in that neighborhood that Beth said, “Hey remember that house we thought he lived in? What was that guy’s name?”
“Borden,” I replied. “It was Clint Borden.”
“Well, we should take a picture of the house. It’s one of the Clint sights.”
So, we drove down Denny Ave one more time. Man, this house sure looks like the place where a young mechanic and all of his dudes and buddies might live. And I started thinking about it. What if it really was him and the message someone got erased or he never heard it or something? I mentioned this to Beth.
“I just wish there was some way we could find out for sure that it wasn’t him,” I said.
So, we devised a brilliant scheme. And we felt even if it turned out that this wasn’t him, what a great scene this was going to be in the movie.
On Monday, Memorial Day, we drove to North Hollywood. We drove to Ralph’s and bought some balloons and a little card to attach to them. The only balloons that didn’t have hearts or bears or something lame like that on them were American flag balloons. It was Memorial Day, afterall. The plan was that Beth would park the car on Denny Ave. Then, impersonating an FTD delivery person, she would walk up to the house to deliver the balloons. If Clint was there, she could then get a description of him. If he fit the description and she was pretty sure this was him, I would then go up to the door and re-introduce myself. If it was clearly not him, then at least we would know.
However, nobody answered the door, so Beth attached the balloons to the porch with a card that said: “To Clint. From a secret admirer. If you are interested in learning who this person is, please email her at: aislin_lumina@hotmail.com”
And that was that.
But that night, I received the email which was posted on the blog. Oh my god…could this really be him? I wrote back that I was searching for a Clint that I had met awhile back who was from Tennessee. I was hoping this was him.
Yesterday, he wrote back that he was not from Tennessee but that he had been there. He thought maybe he had told me that. He said he worked in the film and TV industry and meets lots of people. He told me that he believed in “random chances” and maybe this had all happened so he and I would meet.
That’s sweet. But he’s not the right Clint. My Clint really told me that he was from Tennessee. And he really told me that he was a mechanic. And though I do believe in “random chances,” I have to find the right Clint.
What is so important about this part of the story, however, is the fact that this random person…who is only associated with this story because he is a young man also named Clint living in North Hollywood…this random person WANTS to be the Clint we’re looking for. He WANTS to be part of the story. He WISHES that it was him we were looking for. Because at the end of the day, we all want to be part of something big. What this shows me is that if some random person who is not part of the story is so flattered and intrigued by all of this, imagine how the person who IS part of the story will feel…I imagine the “right” Clint will be even more flattered and intrigued.
We just have to hold fast to hope.
He will go back to Carter’s…
And speaking of Carter, on Friday Beth had a nice chat with him. Carter told her that he had learned from one of Clint’s friends that Clint had been out of town in Northern California on business. Apparently, he does something with computers. Now, of course, this is all translated through Mr. Carter, so we don’t really know exactly what this means and what it is he does with computers (for all we know, he may have been learning about building and repairing the computers in newer automobiles). But if he has been away learning this new job, that helps explain why he hasn’t been around the shop. But still, he has known Carter for many years. And he wouldn’t just decide to never speak to him again. He has to return at some point. Carter is confident of this.
And as Mr. Carter says, “You just have to be diligent. This will work out.”
Updates to follow…
Comments:
Post a Comment
