A happy holding pattern
As I await more notes on revisions from my agent, I am taking it a little easy here -- for a big fat change! When was the last time I took it easy? Who knows.
In the DVD player down in the family room, I am watching Bertolucci's The Dreamers. In the upstairs DVD player, I am watching Kubrick's 2001: A Space Oddyssey. In the VCR in my bedroom, I am watching Barry Levinson's Good Morning, Viet Nam.
On the stereo, I switch between The Monkees' Headquarters CD, and a Deepak Chopra meditation/yoga CD (depending, I guess, on whether I'm feeling unstoppably spiriutal or inexcusably chidlish, or is that child-like? Yay!) (You decide which CD goes with which mood!)
On the night table is (still) Joe Queenan's great memoir, Closing Time, and the new amazing biography of Bonnie & Clyde, Go Down Together, by Jeff Guinn.
And in the tape deck (yes! I still have a few of those!) are scads of old songs I wrote about 25 years ago. I am gearing up to do a new CD of old songs -- all re-recordings. And it has been quite a trip down memory lane. (I also have an old cassette of songs my biological father wrote. He's been dead now for just over 10 years. The quality of the tape is horrible but I am so grateful that I have it. They are the last remaining versions of his original songs -- along with his old & now long-gone Chesapeake Bay Retriever, Hawk, howling away in the background of some of them. Priceless. My father recorded the tape for me in his trailer in the Carson desert in Nevada & his dog used to like to sing along.)
So that's that for now: my life. I almost went to see the new Star Trek movie yesterday afternoon, but instead I am going to dinner this evening with a friend who has a friend from Venezuala here who speaks little English and needs help typing up a resume, so instead of being away from my humble abode two nights in a row (God forbid), I stayed in last evening and made the rounds of the DVD/VCRs in the house. (The Dreamers is an amazing film, is it not? Or is it just because I love Paris, films, old rock & roll, and sex? Hmmm.) I bought a surprisingly great red wine for only $11, so that was intensely cool. And I had sushi -- spicey tekka maki, actually. (Not sure how to spell that, sorry.) (Yes, I drink red wine with sushi. I would drink red wine with old rubber tire shreds, if that was all that was on the menu!)
So all's pretty swell in my holding pattern, except that I still miss Bandit like crazy. It absolutely breaks my heart. I keep watching for him everyday but he doesn't come home. I don't know what's become of him. Poor little guy.
In the DVD player down in the family room, I am watching Bertolucci's The Dreamers. In the upstairs DVD player, I am watching Kubrick's 2001: A Space Oddyssey. In the VCR in my bedroom, I am watching Barry Levinson's Good Morning, Viet Nam.
On the stereo, I switch between The Monkees' Headquarters CD, and a Deepak Chopra meditation/yoga CD (depending, I guess, on whether I'm feeling unstoppably spiriutal or inexcusably chidlish, or is that child-like? Yay!) (You decide which CD goes with which mood!)
On the night table is (still) Joe Queenan's great memoir, Closing Time, and the new amazing biography of Bonnie & Clyde, Go Down Together, by Jeff Guinn.
And in the tape deck (yes! I still have a few of those!) are scads of old songs I wrote about 25 years ago. I am gearing up to do a new CD of old songs -- all re-recordings. And it has been quite a trip down memory lane. (I also have an old cassette of songs my biological father wrote. He's been dead now for just over 10 years. The quality of the tape is horrible but I am so grateful that I have it. They are the last remaining versions of his original songs -- along with his old & now long-gone Chesapeake Bay Retriever, Hawk, howling away in the background of some of them. Priceless. My father recorded the tape for me in his trailer in the Carson desert in Nevada & his dog used to like to sing along.)
So that's that for now: my life. I almost went to see the new Star Trek movie yesterday afternoon, but instead I am going to dinner this evening with a friend who has a friend from Venezuala here who speaks little English and needs help typing up a resume, so instead of being away from my humble abode two nights in a row (God forbid), I stayed in last evening and made the rounds of the DVD/VCRs in the house. (The Dreamers is an amazing film, is it not? Or is it just because I love Paris, films, old rock & roll, and sex? Hmmm.) I bought a surprisingly great red wine for only $11, so that was intensely cool. And I had sushi -- spicey tekka maki, actually. (Not sure how to spell that, sorry.) (Yes, I drink red wine with sushi. I would drink red wine with old rubber tire shreds, if that was all that was on the menu!)
So all's pretty swell in my holding pattern, except that I still miss Bandit like crazy. It absolutely breaks my heart. I keep watching for him everyday but he doesn't come home. I don't know what's become of him. Poor little guy.
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