I might as well admit it: this it "retro week" on the blog. I left my digital camera upstate at the farm, so I can't illustrate the things that are happening this week, which is fine, because so far I've done well just getting to the living room. Most of the last three days has been spent going through boxes in my office: giant, unopened behemoths containing both the mundane and crucial mixed together on the "pure" setting. I found my passport next to a receipt for a USA Today purchased at the Louisville airport in 1999.
I lug so much crap around with me that I'm surprised I haven't taken on some sort of celestial gravity. Fortunately, the farm has acted as a shit repository, but I promised Tessa that I'd go through it and throw away stuff that won't be missed. When she saw the amount of detritus stacked up in the garage on Beachwood Avenue, she actually cried. Tears came out of her eyes. I filled up a U-Haul trailer.
The thing is, everything gets used eventually, even if it is the spark of a tangential idea that leads to a great turn of phrase, or an old pamphlet that reminds of a screenplay I'm supposed to write. I regret that there is 70,000 lbs of this stuff, but it does have its place in my life. The key is to distill it down so that only the germinating idea seeds are left. Akin to "thinning out the pumpkins" so that the vines grow stronger, I guess.
Speaking of lugging things around for 12 years, we watched the "reunion" episode of UNC's General College soap opera, which supposedly tied up a bunch of plot lines left hanging well-nigh through the decade of the 1990s. Mostly, it was just fun to see Tessa on film, both now and back in 1988. Her bangs back then had their own agenda, flying north-northwest and thither and yon. She had big hoopy earrings, wore her Oxfords with the collars up, and had a "shra-shra" accent inherited from her father.
"General College," like most artistic endeavors at UNC, created way more brilliant professionals than it should. From humble beginnings (playing coke whores at the Student Union), GC'ers have gone on to helm "Guiding Light," become respected agents, artistic developers, and commercial producers not to mention the careers of Tessa, Billy Crudup, Dan Cortese, and yours fucking truly.
Posted by at July 16, 2002 8:04 PM