Well, dear readers, it is Sunday and I’m here to tell you that it will be a day of rest – I intend doing a whole lot of nothing, except perhaps writing. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, there’ll be a whole of nothin’ goin’ on around these here parts. Speaking of these here parts, yesterday was such a nice, fun day. For example, I got up – that was both nice and fun. I then did a one-hour telephonic interview with a gentleman who is writing a book about people who did frequent guest shots on television, mostly in the 70s. He really liked my work back then and I was at the top of his list of people he wanted to talk to. I had a good deal of fun reminiscing and telling him some fun anecdotes and he seemed to enjoy hearing it. After that I did some errands and whatnot, then came home and wrote close to four count them four pages. After that, dear reader and birthday girl, Miss Adriana Patti came over and I drove the two of us to her birthday bash at Ruth’s Chris Steak House, where we had an unbelievably great meal and a good deal of fun. After that, I finally came home and sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched a motion picture on DVD entitled Seconds, starring Mr. Rock Hudson, and directed by Mr. John Frankenheimer. I hadn’t seen it since the DVD came out several years ago, and I’ve written about it before, but am happy to say I never cease to marvel at how great this film is. I championed it since the day I saw it at a sneak preview in Westwood, months before its theatrical release. Many in that audience walked out because they were so unprepared for its subject matter and style, and they certainly were not prepared to see Mr. Rock Hudson in this type of film. In fact, they booed when they saw his name come up in the main titles. But my love for the film was instant, the minute those phenomenal Saul Bass main titles began, accompanied by the absolutely brilliant music of Jerry Goldsmith (one of his finest scores). Mr. Hudson turns in the performance of a lifetime and had there been any justice he would have been nominated for an Oscar, and perhaps even one. But the film was a huge critical and box-office disaster. It was way ahead of its time, frankly, and it took many, many years for it to develop the cult it now has. For many years I was a voice in the wilderness about this film and Hitchcock’s Marnie, and Frank Perry’s The Swimmer. Seconds today is fresher than anything being made now. It’s lost none of its power or uniqueness, and I never tire of watching it. The DVD transfer is really terrific and, oh, that Goldsmith score – a textbook in how to get under the skin of a film, instead of like what they do today, where the music just is either relentless padding or sits on top of the film in a completely gratuitous manner, instead of getting into the film and its characters. It’s a must-see.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button because shortly there’ll be a whole lot of nothin’ goin’ on.
Have I mentioned that today there’ll be a whole lot of nothin’ goin’ on? Oh, I may take a drive, I may eat a meal, I may write a page or three, and I may make a telephonic call or two, but other than that the day is mine all mine.
This coming week will be filled with writing, working with Merissa and Joan, meeting with David Wechter, and having several meetings, including a potential drive down to San Diego for a meeting.
As I write these here notes there is the loudest cricket I have ever heard. It’s so annoying – it sounds like some mutant cricket but, as you know, there is no finding a cricket and I guess I’ll just have to endure the racket until the cricket falls asleep or gets tired of making a ruckus.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, write, jog, eat, drive about in my motor car, and do a whole lot of nothin’. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s free-for-all day, the day in which you dear readers get to make with the topics and we all get to post about them. So, let’s have loads of lovely topics and loads of lovely postings, whilst a whole lot of nothin’s goin’ on.