Jeremy Gillespie
Host / Producer
Jeremy would rather swing a hammer than use a nail gun.
He would rather swing an axe than use a splitter.
He prefers reading books and personal research to the education found in “institutes of higher learning.”
He just found out what a “selfie” is, and you’ll never see him take one.
He performs his own bike maintenance out of fear of upsetting his bikes by taking them to a stranger.
All coffee is consumed black, the way god intended it to be consumed.
He can’t tell jokes, stories, or anecdotes. He can’t remember a limerick to save his life. Spare yourself the agony and simply walk away if he begins one.
He believes hard work and dedication to your craft is the only true path to happiness, and true happiness is the ultimate measure of success.
Ian Rygiel
Host / Producer
Ian is a rogue, scholar and gentleman adventurer. During The Great Recession, he loaded trucks, swung a hammer and hauled demo to get by, but he has also worked as an educator, freelance videographer and editor.
For him, the West has always held a certain allure, speaking to him through novels, poetry and classic westerns. Broke Out West is an opportunity for Ian to follow in the footsteps of the explorers, vagabonds and writers who heeded the call of the road and experienced America for themselves.
Blog Posts:
Virginia: Part 1
7:00 am and we’re on the road. Dew-covered bikes glisten under a hot, humid sun. Thin, gnarled trees and sandpits gradually give way to lush forests and earth. We’re on the road for 30 minutes when I realize I’ve left all my over-shirts in Manahawkin; the first casualty of travel. Asphalt speeds underneath rubber tires for two hours while the humidity disappears and the sun climbs higher above the horizon. We stop at a welcome center just over the Delaware border fresh from soaking in one hell of a view from on high. After a stretch, we make awkward banter for the camera, fill our bellies and hit the road once more. The day grows hotter, and the traffic thickens as we near Baltimore. Semi-trucks box us in on all sides and spew black smoke, which fills our eyes and mouths, while settling in a haze around our boots. I’m hot and the day is growing hotter. My legs cramp, my wrist aches and sweat pours down my back. Jeremy and I shift our weight around on our bikes. We stretch while riding. We swear loudly into our coms. Our sanity is saved by a small two-lane highway on the other side of the Virginia border. Rounding a curve, trees disappear to reveal a gorgeous mountainside, green and lush. The aching joints and tense muscles linger, but the scenery becomes a welcome distraction. Cows! I yell. Goats! I point. More fat cows! My urban upbringing betrays me. We arrive at Luray Caverns 30 minutes late, and I want to hate the place. I’m in a rotten mood and out...The best education can be found in a pub
I’ve always enjoyed sitting in dive bars. I’m not talking about the hipster-chic types, where yuppies can safely slum it, but the taverns, bars and pubs found in working towns across the country. The places with dark wood, stained even darker from years of cigarette smoke and contact from countless bodies. There’s a level of comfort I’ve found in these sacred places. No matter what town or state they’re in, they feel familiar. Populated by workers, regulars, and professional drinkers, these bars are the new campfire. Looking around at the introspective gazes of the patrons, it’s easy to find the ones who have lived their lives, experienced the world, and basked in success and failure alike. They’ve got story after story, and while they might seem as world weary as everyone else, their eyes are alive. The most common of these stories is the “if only…” tale. The lottery ticket that was almost a big win… The sport that could have led to a professional contract… The business that would have made millions… …if only… And if there is one thing I’ve learned from sitting in these bars, it’s there is no shame in the “if only…” story. The shame comes from only have one. After listening to these modern day bards wax poetic, it’s not long before I’m feeling restless again. Picking myself up, I’m ready to leave the stale air behind, venture out into the world, and continue writing my own story. This way, if the day ever comes when I’ve settled into just one bar in just one town, I’ll have a few of my own...A Rising Tension
As with my last blog post, I’d like to start by referencing a previously written article, if only to start the conversation “The Dark Side of Getting Into College,” written by Lauren Stiller Reikleen, takes a look at the colossal amount of pressure being placed on children to get into college. It should come to no one’s surprise that all of the practices, tutoring sessions, and extra-curricular activities are leading to highly stressed, anxious, and sleep-deprived kids. This is not a problem that ends with a student’s acceptance into college either. I would argue this upbringing is one of the biggest underlying factors the generation of 20-30-somethings, most affected by the Great Recession, are now coping with. When a large portion of someone’s life and identity is wrapped up in the concept of higher education, the result is two-fold: Certainly, it cultivates a generation of intellectually-minded individuals who appreciate art, culture and music, but it also breeds a generation that will find it harder to cope when they are unable to put their education to work — say, when an economy collapses in on itself due to greed and predatory lending practices. What we have now is a new class of citizen. This class has been shaped and molded to become the new bourgeois, but has found limited employment opportunities within this social class, and instead, works in traditionally lower class, proletariat occupations. The result is the creation of the poorgeoisie. And the poorgeois are just as hard-working, motivated and intellectually minded as they ever were — but now, many of us are also more stressed and anxiety-ridden...
Lauren Quirolgico
Producer / Director
Lauren Quirolgico earned her BA in Communication from Seton Hall University and possesses an MA in Media Studies and a certificate in Media Management from the New School in NYC. She is a native New Yorker and has been working in film, television and media consulting for over seven years.
The world doesn’t need mediocre, average and typical, Lauren is striving to be exceptional. Her interest in Broke Out West is academic, professional and personal, as she is interested in hearing how the Great Recession has affected individuals and businesses across the country.
Ryan Palmer
Director of Photography
Ryan Palmer studied, Communications at Penn State University and Marywood University, and also Filmmaking at the New York Film Academy in NYC. He has worked across the country on countless independent projects over the last seven years.
Ryan is best known for his role on set as a Production Sound Mixer and Boom Operator for which he has worked on a number of acclaimed projects including two films selected to the Cannes Court Métrage and one film which won the Cine Golden Eagle Award. Ryan is also a skilled Cinematographer and Photographer and has worked with Fox and Viacom.
Joe Dominic DeMuro
Unit Production Manager
Joe has a BA in theater, several Information Technology certifications, as well as certifications in fitness and nutrition.
Primarily an actor and filmmaker, Joe has had to utilize various means to support himself in the changing landscape of America.
Joe grew up in a small family owned business, and is concerned about the future for himself and for others. We live in a new America where the rules are different from that of our parents. Social unrest and the declining economy seem to be just a tip of the iceberg.
Jesse Christiansen
Intern
Jesse Christiansen is the young pup of the bunch. He is 21 years young and currently attending Caldwell University as a Communications major where he will be graduating in May of 2015.
He currently relies on the kindness of strangers, as his only source of income is pizza delivery.
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