This could be Hobbit forming!

One of the last things a Polio survivor is prepared to surrender is his or her sense of independence. Not being able to do what you want, when you want is incredibly galling.

I lived overseas as an actor and writer for many years before the onset of my post-polio syndrome and toward the end of that period cast envious thoughts in the direction of friends who got to be part of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy.

Then, when I returned to New Zealand there was a call for large, hairy men to be extras in The Hobbit. Extra work is pretty lowly stuff, but to be part of a project like The Hobbit was a chance not to be missed.

There was only one problem. By now, the PPS was in full cry and there were days when I could barely hobble to the kitchen, let alone charge up a hill waving a battleaxe.

Nevertheless, I tried out on a good day and got accepted. Next I had to wait for my call. I waited for quite a while and grew increasingly anxious as the PPS swung into a nasty cycle.

Finally the call came – on a day when I could hardly walk and moaned and groaned a lot as I moved around. I drove from Palmerston North to the Stone Street Studios in Wellington and fronted up in an air of quiet desperation. At the same time I offered up a silent prayer that I would be able to cope.

When I reached make-up, I was kitted out in a medieval-style costume and covered in soot, mud and fake blood. The story was that I had been roughed up by Smaug, the dragon.

I was taken on set and shown to my place.

“Lie down there and moan a lot,” said the assistant, pointing to an improvised stretcher.

I could hardly believe what I’d heard. Hey, I could do that!

Soon, I was acting my heart out, while taking my ease on my back. If I needed an extra bit of realism, I’d twitch the wrong way and the PPS would kick in – groan! Boy, I was good!

One of the dwarves tended to me with a water bottle and a camera moved in for a close-up. Woo hoo! Fame! Fortune! Digital immortality!

Thank you Mr Jackson for allowing me to be part of a wonderful experience.

I was so delighted with the whole experience and so flushed with triumph that I drove all the way home in my mud and blood makeup. Mercifully, I was never pulled over for speeding!

   ����h"=AŘ�