Well, dear readers, I am writing these here notes in a severe state of being overtired. Last night, I awoke at three in the morning feeling queasy. I could not go back to sleep, so I watched a motion picture on DVD in the bedroom environment. I still could not go to sleep, so I just lay in bed like so much fish, thinking about how I could not go back to sleep. I finally fell asleep at about seven and woke up again at nine. That gave me a grand total of four count them four hours of sleep. So, I spent yesterday in a state of flux, in a state of haziness, in a state of longeurs, whatever the HELL that means. I walked around as if in a dream. I went hither and thither but frankly I may have gone thither and hither and I would never have known the difference. First, my friend Brad, who does the orders for Aron’s Records, came over and picked up his reorder, and placed a nice healthy order for our new titles. After that, I had to deal with publisher things, for they have to fix two things on the back of the jacket – my photo seems to be vertically stretched, thereby making me look like a pork, and one thing in one of the blurbs isn’t italicized, even though the copy I sent them was italicized. Go know. After dealing with that, we dealt with the dweebs at amazon, who finally seem to understand what they’ve done wrong, and it seems that the problem is on the road to being fixed. Then I went to look at some mini LP samples from this LA company – they seemed fine, but I must say they are quite pricey. Since I know the printer (they are the house that has done all Varese printing for the last twenty years), I’m going to call and see what they can do. I still wandered about as if in a state of flux, a state of haziness, a state of longeurs, whatever the HELL that means. I walked around as if in a dream. I then picked up no packages and shipped five count them five packages. I finally returned to the home environment and ate some bagels, cream cheese, and lox. That perked me up a bit, but I still felt as if in a state of flux, in a state of haziness, in a state of longeurs, whatever the HELL that means. I sat on my couch like so much fish, and tried to watch the little TCM special on James Garner, which I’d TIVOd a week ago. But the special was just Robert Osborne interviewing Mr. Garner, and it was a complete and utter bore. Does Mr. Osborne, who is a very nice fellow, think he’s fooling anyone with the plastic surgery and the liposuction and the face lift and the eye work? He looks embalmed. In any case, I only got through five minutes of the special before I promptly fell asleep for an hour.
Last night, whilst being unable to sleep, I watched a motion picture on DVD entitled St. Ives. Our very own Mr. Nick Redman had warned me about this film, telling me it was revoltingly bad. Ten minutes into it, I thought, it’s not so bad – it’s sort of meandering along in neo-Chandler territory and I’m sort of enjoying it. I should have shut it off right then and there, because from that point onward it truly is one of the worst movies ever made. It is incomprehensible, characters behave stupidly, Mr. Bronson’s character is almost completely passive throughout the film, Miss Jacqueline Bisset reaches new heights of non-acting, and wonderful actors such as Harry Guardino, Harris Yulin, and Dana Elcar are completely wasted. John Houseman is just horrendous. The last fifteen minutes of the film are mind-boggling in their incomprehensibility. The film, surprisingly, is based on one of Ross Thomas’ well-thought-of Oliver Bleeck novels. Go know. I also watched a motion picture on DVD entitled Gate of Flesh, from Criterion. It’s one of Japanese director Seijun Suzuki’s completely wacko films. Mr. Suzuki was a bad-boy genre director (still alive and kicking), and this film is classic Suzuki – wild, wacky, colorful, strange, weird, stylized, and filled with 60s eroticism, the likes of which the US could never have gotten away with. If you like outré genre films, you might give it a try, although I warn you in advance to fast forward for two minutes the second you see a cow enter. Don’t come crying to me if you don’t heed my warning. Mr. Suzuki’s use of the scope frame, and his incredible splashes of stylized color (think Douglas Sirk having a really bad acid trip), are lots of fun to watch. The transfer is very good indeed.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I can barely keep my eyes open as I’m in a state of flux, a state of haziness, a state of longeurs, whatever the HELL that means.
I’m very excited that this evening I shall be supping with my friends, the Jones’s. That is always a cause for celebration and happiness. And, I’ll be bringing my five short stories over for Margaret’s perusal. The food will be, as always, yummilicious, and the company, as always, will be lively and sparkling, not necessarily in that order.
Prior to dinner, I must attend to all manner of things. I must check up on all pressing plant issues (everything is on track, and I should have my repressing of After the Ball in on Friday), I must hopefully see a fixed cover, I must pick up a package or three, and I must attend to some launch party details and calls.
I will tell you in advance that tomorrow’s notes will have a long story about a book that was solicited for preorders over five years ago, and which still hasn’t shipped. It’s a fascinating story of ego run amok, and of sheer arrogance. I like to call the story, The Curious Case of the Neverending Book. Stay tuned.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must get my beauty rest, I must, perhaps, begin a new short story, and I must get out of the state of flux, the state of haziness, the state of longeurs, whatever the HELL that means. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your all time favorite Burt Bacharach songs, and your all time favorite songs of Goffin and King. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I try to get out of my state of flux, my state of haziness, my state of longeurs, whatever the HELL that means.