June 02, 2004
le plus ça change
6/2/04
Our trip to Los Angeles ends on Friday, when we will be motoring back to New York - actually, Boston - in a record four days. I thought I'd try to encapsulate my trips here, just so I can see how the last three months have rated, you know, comparatively.
1980 - Came here at age 12, lived with my cousin Mark in a tent in his backyard, worked catering with my uncle, played hoops, had a deep crush on one of my female cousins, and had a FABULOUS TIME. A+
1986 - Came back after my freshman year in college, worked catering for my uncle again, but was roundly derided as the worst caterer they had seen in 20 years of business. Went broke, alienated my family, was a typical jerk teenager. D+
1988 - Moved here for a few months in the dregs of my parents' divorce, watched my little brother and sister sink into deep angst-filled depressions, played lots of basketball by myself, worked for $5/hour stocking record albums. C
1990 - Upon graduation, moved here and went so stark raving broke that I had to live on a brick of cheddar cheese and a loaf of Brannola™ oat bread for one week. Finally got job as New Line Cinema's first intern, and promptly mailed rejection letter to the wrong big-time director. Rear-ended by reggae drummer and lost job (documented here) and retreated back to North Carolina in desolate shame. D-
1997 - Turned 30, and came to Hollywood to shepherd a road-trip screenplay of mine that had been optioned by huge agency. Had meeting with Dreamworks who said they had just bought movie "Road Trip" the day before. Project died. Sank into deep depression by 2nd year, thoughts of suicide in the 3rd. Left town with less friends than I started. F
2004 - Invited by Fox TV to put on a show, was a huge success. Noticed by people in the industry, pitching a bevy of great ideas, loving my wife who turns out to have a gift for TV writing. Meet tons of great people, have fun practically every night, writing at a good clip, played hoops with same cousins from 1980 and had a FABULOUS TIME. A+
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1980 and 2004
I just saw the fantastically bad "Day After Tomorrow" or whatever movie with the worst Dennis Quaid yet, and I have to admit that there was some grim satisfaction in watching twenty tornadoes destroy Los Angeles.
Oh, and yeah, that iSight only works for people who don't live in the internet Stone Age like us folk here in Napa do. Yeesh.
A great full-circle post, Ian. But I have to say that the thing that struck me, when I punched up the earlier IFAMLIO saga from 1990 (yes, even more than your mullet) was the photo of my mother with her PURSE. Why do ladies of a certain age always carry a humongous PURSE? I guess I owned purses at some point in my life, but for the past couple of decades I have carried cell phone, wallet, and money attached to my britches and/or in my pockets, or in various sized and varicolored backpacks. Holding onto a purse became such a burden at some point that I abandoned the practice altogether sometime in the 80s.
My mother's purse always weighed about 30 pounds, and was always attached to her person, even on the rim of the Grand Canyon, for heaven's sake. On the other hand, unlike her, I cannot be counted on to produce, anywhere, anytime, painkillers, kleenex, chewing gum, a measuring tape, the phone number of everyone in the continental U.S., a mini-Book of Mormon/Bible combination, a screw driver, peanuts from some ancient airline flight, a rain hat, often an umberella to go with it, antiseptic wipes, etc. etc.
Every comedian from Tracey Ullman to Dame Edna always has the PURSE as a vital part of the costume, and it says it all.
Now, back to our regularly scheduled blog.
I appreciate the link following "rear ended by a reggae drummer". The car wreck must have been traumatic, but it is better than being analy violated to the beat of Buffalo Soldier. You know, I just don't write "analy" enough to know if I have spelled it correctly.
Love ya