Spring is in the air, daffodils are thrusting their way through the dog poo, spontaneous singing can be heard from the high rise blocks and film crews are out gambolling on Primrose Hill. This is a favoured location for film crews, not only does it have good sightlines, a spectacular view over London but being Primrose Hill the producers can pop back to their nearby £1,000,000+ Regency Townhouse for a quick spot of lunch and sex with the nanny.
This particular crew were filming a young kid cycling down the steep slope of the hill and, because dead children can cause productions to over run, they had child, tricycle and camera mounted on a motorised flatbed. There was, what back in the 1980s we used to call an AFM (assistant floor manager), standing at the bottom of the hill with a walkie talkie trying to keep unsuitable people out of shot.
We exchanged cheerful nods and I opined that I'd never seen a mokit on a tricycle before, he gave me the glassy eyed grin of someone being forced to talk to weirdos all day, and I walked on whistling cheerfully in the knowledge that my fat backside was waddling away in at least one of the takes.
This particular crew were filming a young kid cycling down the steep slope of the hill and, because dead children can cause productions to over run, they had child, tricycle and camera mounted on a motorised flatbed. There was, what back in the 1980s we used to call an AFM (assistant floor manager), standing at the bottom of the hill with a walkie talkie trying to keep unsuitable people out of shot.
We exchanged cheerful nods and I opined that I'd never seen a mokit on a tricycle before, he gave me the glassy eyed grin of someone being forced to talk to weirdos all day, and I walked on whistling cheerfully in the knowledge that my fat backside was waddling away in at least one of the takes.
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