xtcian

1/4/03 Day XIV of the

1/4/03

Day XIV of the Rat-a-Tat-Tat Swizzle Stickin' Razzle Dazzle Chuck Wagon Road Trip

Los Angeles, CA

This was supposed to be our fun, relaxed day but instead turned into a flurry of cell phone calls, information frantically retrieved from dying Palms, and last-minute emails dashed off to disparate parties. We were having problems with Jason's DSL (the Airport refused to work on it) until I found another wireless transmitter somewhere on the mountain, a router named "Brazil." As best as we can locate it, Brazil is somewhere down the hill and to the west of us, and you need to be sitting in a particular position on the couch to get it but when you do, you're rewarded with blindingly fast internet service. I don't know about you folks out there in Broadband Land, but piggybacking (aka "stealing") wireless internet service is just about the most fun you can have. We even found a second wireless transmitter called "HandHeld" that is available if you put your laptop over the kitchen sink. I haven't had this much fun since ham radio.

We started the day at a brunch held by Kathy Eldon, where the conversation got very heavy-duty and morose about the current state of American affairs. I had one such conversation a year ago tonight in New York (read that story here) that precipitated a nervous breakdown and made Celexa a necessity. This one was almost as bad (basically, the Mayans posit that life as we know it will be very different starting in the year 2012) and touched on the kind of casualties we'll see in an Iraq war (6 million!). By the end, I needed to be back in the welcome heat of a Los Angeles afternoon, but was not half as riddled with anxiety as usual. The Celexa must actually have some palliative properties, or perhaps it does its best work unnoticed.

Either way, I'm committed to making my farm completely self-reliant on wind and solar power. More on that when I get there.

By 4pm, we were up at Walt Boyle's place for a get-together surrounding the UNC game and the screening of the Pink House trailer. In attendance: Mike J, Dani, Veronica, Jason, sweet Stasia, Jim, Walt himself, Tessa, me, and amazingly, the illustrious Andrew Bennett Taubman. Andy Taubman is one of my favorite people in the world; we lived together in the basement of the Lodge (called Exotica at that time) and while there are no two different people on the planet, we emerged having profoundly affected each other in the best possible ways. Andy made my writing better, and I like to think I helped develop his (now undeniable) charm. When I reflect upon the incredible minds I knew at Chapel Hill, he is always foremost along with Rick Maechling, Tessa, Ali, the Chipper, and a few others that made those years blessed.

The trailer screening was a hit; everyone seemed to dig it, and wanted more, which is the whole point. Walt said (and I agree) that the trailer doesn't quite tell you what the story is about, but with a little explanation, it shows that the movie is a substantial piece of work, possibly quite funny, and worthy of intrigue. Plus, the addition of the animation kinda blows open the artistic possibilities and makes the project seem like an incredible endeavor, and god knows it is.

Andy and me on Sunset Blvd.

We spent the rest of the evening with Andy at Toi on Sunset, the Thai place my sister Michelle made us go to every chance she could. The only table left was the one where you sit on the floor, so by the time we finished, I was prostrate and holding myself up with a pillow sling. I hate sitting on the floor. I'm too tall for that shit, yo.