When I read about the casting call for Spider-Man 3 in The Cleveland Plain Dealer, I leapt at the opportunity to be part of movie-making history in Cleveland.

Cleveland is becoming a good city for film, and I had been at one other casting call in the venerable Oak Room of Terminal Tower. I knew what to expect.

The lines were predictably long (more than 4,000 showed up that day); but I tried to dress appropriately for the part (Upper West Side Manhattan): nice slacks, turtle-neck sweater and light-wool sports jacket.

The wait was just over two hours.

We were given forms to fill out in line, and I called home to get suit and shirt sizes.

Lower on the form, I also said I would be available for every day of the filming. Important for continuity for casting and filming. Fortuitously, I also volunteered my car - a sporty Honda Civic, English-Racing-Green.

Actual face time with a casting person was under 60 seconds. Fast. Then back home; and the wait. It seemed like a week passed. Then the call: my car was cast in the movie! Me, too, as a precision driver.

I was told to report to driving school at Burke Airport. There we were put through the hoops - almost literally. Drive in tight formation, one line of cars offset against another, we were instructed. Three times through. Then a big silver Chrysler - or could have been a muscle-car Dodge - weaved through us at high speed.

Not too bad; but then he did the weave face on. I learned something fast: It's all about Trust. And following instructions without question. Just like the Army! I also knew from day one these guys were good.

That was on a Wednesday. First day of driving was Saturday. Wake-up at 4:45 AM, a bit early for an artist who usually got into bed not much before 4:00 AM (a bad habit now broken). Out of the house by 5:00 AM, and downtown by 6:30. Sign-in and to the start marks. The first day was pretty simple stuff up and down Ninth Street.

Drive 50 yards and stop, back-up, and do it again. More time spent waiting for the driving team to set up the shots. They used toy cars - the kind we used to get in cereal boxes - for the set-ups.

The driving/filming itself was done in segments: post-production edit will stitch it all together. Thank Goodness for that! Driving later in the week became harrowing at times.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday morning took us onto Euclid Avenue. I hadn't walked Euclid east of Ninth Street for years, and was saddened to see the empty stores; now outfitted, however, to look like NYC storefronts. There were posters for concert plastered on fake walls, exotic restaurants, and even signs for an exhibit at the Guggenheim. This was New York City!

Start driving by 8:00 AM, work until 12:00 or 1:00 PM, then lunch. Food was great; and usually four or five entree items each meal, including exotics like steamed crab legs. I think the catering trucks bore signs from Carmel, California.

I hung out with my new buddy Ron, about my age, and we tried our best to meet people: co-eds from Cleveland State at Starbucks, extras from around Ohio, production people, services - the gamut. It was a time to learn - and have fun.

But, until Wednesday afternoon, most of our time was in the cars.

Wednesday one of the top California drivers parked Ron, Rob, John and me next to Starbucks on East 14th Street. Not a bad place to hang out, but Ron and I were still chagrined that the kids were having all the fun. Driving was a kick. Like heading East on Euclid, with an armored car blazing past you in one lane, camera truck in the other. Both going the opposite direction to you.

Drive on the traffic line to avoid getting hit. Keep your distance. And, oh, try to ignore the camera boom that passes over the top of your car. Stop. Then drive backward like a bat out of hell to get back to your "Number 1." Plus, don't hit any of the pedestrians trying to go to lunch or get a better view.

But Wednesday afternoon, Thursday and Friday we sat, while the kids got to do the fancy weaves.

There was the "Bay Bomber", looking like a crash-and-burn vehicle from Road Warriors, and a camera mounted motorcycle, covered with heavy protective out-rigging. The driving was awesome, and Sandman's Armored Truck was driving over and through carefully rigged cars in the lanes. Bay Bomber blew a tranny. There was debris everywhere. The Starbucks Team seemed to be missing all the fun!

Saturday morning started out better. Ron and I were both put back in the line-up. Only to have our cars parked again on the street. then another move. Then the order came out from the top dog - head our cars over to Ninth and Euclid; and park with our noses - the car's noses - on the crosswalk line.

This was the big crash scene. Where Spider-Man defeats Sandman, then sails up to the top of the old Cleveland Trust Bank building, and away.

And we were there.

More cameras and cables than I have ever seen. Big ones. And the face glass covering the lens was pointing right at us. Pretty cool.

I ran back to the trunk of the car, grabbed the water-spray bottle and cotton rags, and checked Ron and my cars for bird flop. Then I got into position next to my driver-side door, straightened my collar and ran my hand over my hair.

We're working with a 250 million dollar budget, ya know. Gotta look good - or get blue-screened out back in California!

And then we got our instructions: First "Picture's up!" Then "Cameras Rolling." Then "Background."

Quick diversion: Background is all of the extras on the street; but Ron and I were given our own cues. Ron was simple, but when the director asked my name, "Logan" it must have been a bit too slow on the command. "We'll call you 'Hogan,' he said.

"Picture's up!" - "Cameras Rolling" - "Background" - "Ron" - "Hogan!"

A nice place to be, and worth the wait.

It's all about Trust. And following instructions without question. Just like the Army! I knew from day one these guys were good.

- W. Logan Fry