Well, dear readers, September is already flying by, like a gazelle in a flophouse. I gotta tell you. What would happen if I just up and ended the notes right here? One gazelle joke and out. Then I wouldn’t have to come up with pithy things to write, I wouldn’t have to type endless words and sentences and paragraphs. I wouldn’t have to crack wise and ruminate on food and motion pictures on DVD and Unseemly Buttons. But, then the notes wouldn’t be the notes and the notes must be the notes for if the notes aren’t the notes then the world would be in turmoil and there would be mass confusion and people would be walking on the streets mumbling, “The notes weren’t the notes and now I’m confused and in turmoil, not necessarily in that order.” You know, if anyone has a clew as to what the HELL I’m talking about, do let me know. In any case, we must keep order and calm so I will, in fact, write the notes. Speaking of the notes, yesterday was a fun little day. For example, I got up at nine. That was fun. I then did the long jog, after which I decided to head down to the book fair at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium. Naturally, I left my free passes on the kitchen counter, so when I got to the box-office, I told the man that and told him the names of the various dealers who’d sent them to me. That wasn’t good enough, but he paged one of the dealers – said dealer met me at the door and walked me in, which was very nice of him. This show was so ill-attended it’s a little surprising that the guy in the box-office didn’t take my word about the passes, just on the off chance that I might actually buy a book from someone. There were actually a lot of dealers there, including several that I know very well. I chatted with them and then looked at all the various booths. The economy, as some of you know, is in dire straits and even dire flushes and full houses, but you wouldn’t know that by this book fair. Instead of dealers actually wanting to price their books to sell, the prices are higher than ever and no one, and I mean no one was buying anything. I always say that I can’t see how prices can go up further, and yet they do. And yet, these dealers continue to sit on their books because no one is having any of it. There were some very nice books, but I knew in advance I wasn’t buying anything, so I just took my time and looked around. I was there about ninety minutes, and then I came back home. I did some work on the computer, did some organizing, wrote some e-mails, and then it was time to toddle off to dine with Mr. Cason Murphy and his ever-lovin’ mother, Miss Karen.
We all met at the official haineshisway.com restaurant, Genghis Cohen. It was a swellegant time and we laughed and laughed and just when we thought we could laugh no more, we laughed again. We discussed many things, talked about various and sundried people, and ate magnificent food. As always, I ordered for the table – we had pickles and slaw Genghis Cohen-style, orange chicken (extra crispy), garlic chicken, green beans, and crackerjack shrimp. I was so full I thought I was going to explode, but since there were three of us sharing everything, I’m assuming that with the long jog I’ll be okay, weight-wise. It was Miss Karen’s first time there, and her favorite of all the dishes was the crackerjack shrimp. All in all, perfectly perfect dinner and lovelier than lovely company. After that, I came home and sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched a motion picture on DVD entitled Daniel, a film by Sidney Lumet, written by E.L. Doctorow, from his novel, The Book Of Daniel. Since I’m a big fan of Mr. Lumet, I’m surprised this film escaped me when it came out – it wasn’t out for long, however, as it was a critical and box-office bomb. The film is a fictional story of the son of parents who were executed for selling secret information to the Russians – in other words, a thinly-veiled fiction about Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, here called the Isaacsons. It’s a long film with a lot of dialogue and leisurely pacing and Mr. Lumet did himself no favors by not having a musical score – the only music in the film are songs by Paul Robeson. The acting is excellent from everyone – Timothy Hutton as the son looking for answers, Amanda Plummer as his psychologically screwed-up sister, Lindsay Crouse and Mandy Patinkin as the Rosenbergs/Isaacsons, Ed Asner as their lawyer, John Rubinstein as Mr. Hutton’s foster father, and a lot of other good actors. The story was certainly interesting, and I was never bored – apparently, Mr. Lumet considers this one of his best films, despite its bad reception by audiences and critics. I don’t consider it one of his best films, but I did think it a good film with interesting things in it. The transfer on this Legend DVD (Legend has licensed a bunch of Paramount titles) is decent and nothing more.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because these short notes have suddenly turned into a novella.
Today, I shall have to awaken very early and do a very early jog, for I have a breakfast meeting at nine. If, for some reason, I don’t wake up in time, then I’ll jog after the breakfast meeting. After that, I have to have a long telephonic conversation, which will be followed by two other long telephonic conversations. Then I have to write a long e-mail, and then I have to try and figure out how many RSVPs we have for Karen Morrow’s event, and I must also do a bunch of errands and whatnot – in other words, a nice, busy day.
The rest of the week is filling up with various and sundried meetings and meals, including a dinner tomorrow night with our very own Miss Barbara Deutsch. I’m expecting several packages this week, including the new order of Murder At The Grove hardcovers, and I’m hoping to find out if what I’d like to be Kritzerland’s next limited edition CD is doable.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, get up early, do an early long jog, have a breakfast meeting, do errands and whatnot, and have telephonic conversations and write e-mails. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s everyone’s favorite Monday morning pastime, The Initials Game™. You know the drill – you’re on the honor system – only list names that you know, without looking them up on the Internet or elsewhere, other than to verify that they’re who you think they are. Celebrities, sports figures, cartoon characters, fictional characters from plays, books, and movies, etc. And the initials are: H.M. I don’t think this is going to be as fruitful as last week’s initials, but then again you people never cease to amaze me so we’ll just have to wait and see. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, as we end the notes that were like the notes.