Well, dear readers, here I am, high in the friendly skies sitting next to a person who, I believe, is Russian. In front of us are his two, I believe, Russian friends. They are a gabby Russian group (I suppose they could be Ukrainian or Latvian or Armenian) – all I know is they have not shut up for the last thirty minutes and therefore I have not been able to get some really needed sheep. I mean sleep. Sheep I can get. Sleep I can’t get, not with these raucous Russians (or Ukrainians or Latvians or Armenians). They are boisterous, these Russian/Ukrainian/Latvian/Armenians and whatever the HELL they’re talking about is sure amusing to them. They laughed and laughed and just when they thought they could laugh no more, they laughed again. I, on the other hand, did not laugh because I had and have no idea what the HELL they’re talking about. Now that the movie has begun perhaps they’ll shut up and then perhaps I can get some sheep. I mean sleep. Sheep I’ve got. Sleep I need. You see, last night I don’t believe I got any sleep or sheep. If I did I’m not aware of it and if I did I certainly was dreaming I was awake. However, I think if you are still with your eyes wide shut then you are getting rest of some sort. I wanted rest of the other sort, but some sort is better than none, sort-wise. I must say, therefore I shall say that this trip was lovelier than lovely and very much what I needed. A few days away every three years or so is a good thing. And I discovered the joys of the Cracker Barrel, peanut butter Moon Pies, Big Bone Lick, and rural Kentucky where, surprisingly, you can walk a mile and see a camel. I also discovered the Coney dog at Gold Star Chili, a Jewish deli in Indianapolis, and a tony Eyetalian jernt in Lexington. And I finally got to meet our very own Jrand, a delightful fellow, and his pal Evil Kurt, also a delightful fellow. And I got to see a really fun production of a little show I like to call The Brain From Planet X, and I got to spend some time with its cast, crew, and creative team, all of whom were just wonderful folks. Best of all, I got to spend some time with my dearest, darling friends the old Kentucky Pogues in rural Kentucky, where you can walk a mile and see a camel. It was grand fun to hang with them and chat and laugh and eat. They have a strange new dog by the name of Nigel, who is a slight neurotic. And they have their big gray cat. Their old Kentucky home is spacious and lovelier than lovely. Pogue was kind enough to drive me to the Cincinnati airport at a VERY early hour. That ninety-minute flight from Cincinnati to Houston was right on time. This time, I was seated on the left side of the plane, the side with only one seat, so that was much better for me. When we got to Houston I was in terminal B and my next flight was, of course, in terminal E. I thought we’d be taking that little train thing to terminal C, where you then walk to terminal E, bypassing terminals A and D. However, the little train thing wasn’t working, so we all had to traipse down to some gate where we were herded on to a shuttle bus thing, which drove us to terminal C. I then walked to terminal E, bypassing terminals A and D. The Houston flight boarded right on time. We were out on the runway for about fifteen minutes, and then we took off, and all the while a cacophony of Russian/Ukrainian/Latvian/Armenian chatter came my way as I was trying to hit the road to dreamland. Of course, they’re all watching the movie and/or sleeping now, so I just think I’ll start letting forth with a cacophony of Yiddish, and some amusing German phrases like Mahler’s Das Knaben Wunderhorn. That always gets them. Maybe then they will realize how annoying they were – after all, why should they now get to sleep when they precluded me from doing so with nary a care about me and my sleep and sheep. Yes, I think a little tit for tat right about now will be just the ticket.
Of course, I was served the usual omelet with the usual ham and sausage and the usual fruit and the usual biscuit, all of which resembled food but managed the mean feat of not actually tasting like it.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I’ll continue these here notes when I’m firmly ensconced in the home environment and after I’ve caught up with everything, including, I hope, some nap time.
We had a little mixup at the airport with my ride, so I had to wait there for forty minutes, which didn’t thrill me. The ride finally showed up, and then I was driven to the home environment to find signs posted everywhere that tomorrow no one can park on the street outside my house – from my corner all the way east to Laurel Canyon. Why? Because some idiot film company is shooting a public service announcement commercial. So, how that will impact the delivery of my CDs in the morning is anyone’s guess. At the least, I can have him park in my driveway and bring the CDs in that way. It’s a pain in the ASS, however, because now I’ll have to go find a whole different way to get to the postal office. As soon as the CDs are here, I’ll put them in the already addressed packages. Then the helper gets here and we will do all the dealer orders and get everything to where it needs to go. Then I have to deal with a little Kritzerland hiccup regarding our new release – I have to push it back a couple of weeks until we either resolve the issue or not – if it’s the latter, the release doesn’t happen, but I’m hoping we can come to a successful conclusion of the hiccup. I will put another title immediately in the works and it’s a good one.
I opened lots of mail, the best of which was my first copies of my new book. That is always such a thrill – to hold the real book in one’s real hands. So, the book is now live at Kritzerland and ready for preorders. People who order directly from us will get signed copies plus a little extra fun bonus. I should be ready to ship them in a couple of weeks.
Last night, I watched a motion picture on Blu and Ray entitled Toy Story 2. This was the movie where, for me, Pixar finally got everything right. I’d enjoyed their earlier films including the first Toy Story, but none of them quite made it to brilliance. Toy Story 2 goes along doing just fine, and then, suddenly, they just enter genius land with the Randy Newman song When Somebody Loved Me. It takes the film and puts it into a whole other universe, and from then on Pixar seemed to understand exactly what separated them from everyone else. All in all, a wonderful film. The transfer is, of course, immaculate and breathtaking.
Tonight I’m going to see the Musical Theatre Guild’s staged whatever of Irma La Douce, a show I’ve only seen on stage once. Since our very own Mr. Barry Pearl is in it, I’m sure we’ll have a good time. I’ll probably get there early so I can visit Mystery and Imagination Books and show them my new tome. And the MTG is having a silent auction. It’s a good thing the Russian/Ukrainian/Latvian/Armenian folks won’t be there.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, package up CDs, prepare dealer orders for shipping, and then ship. I’ll have a spot of lunch, and then I’ll see Irma La Douce (Irma the Douce). Today’s topic of discussion: Since I am dreaming of Gold Star Chili and the Coney dog, what is the best chili you’ve ever had. What kind was it, why was it great, and can you still get it? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland and some sleep and sheep.