Well, dear readers, the hills are alive with the sound of mucous. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, the hills are alive with the sound of mucous and it’s a sound that frankly makes me want to vomit on the ground. Whatever guck I got that began in my throat, traveled to my chest, and then took an immediate shortcut to my nose. So, I’m in the blowing, coughing, sneezing, blowing and coughing phase of this guck. Funnily, the person who I know happened to give me this guck and been strangely silent since that evening. Strangely Silent – that’s the title of my next novel. The person is most likely strangely silent because the person went through what I am now going through and probably realized that the guck had been spread to innocent parties. Well, hopefully this will be over soon because I do not like feeling yucky and gucky and it really hurts to cough so I’m doing my best to suppress, but that, of course, only makes you cough more. I did manage to get a little over eight hours of sleep and, as it turned out, I didn’t really have to get up at eight since the helper got out of her jury duty in time to take possession of the CDs herself. I went back to sleep around nine and slept until ten-thirty. Then I answered e-mails and took my medicines and then I went to Jerry’s Deli for yet more chicken soup, along with a patty melt and no fries or onion rings. After that, I picked up one package, then came home to have a meeting with a film director. He gave me all the materials we’ll need to do the soundtrack to one of his films.
After that, I wrote the liner notes for what we hope will be our end of February release. Then I did yet more work on the computer, doing some lyric updates to the Billy Barnes song, LA Is – just updating the names of places in a few instances – just as Billy would have done himself. I did try to watch a motion picture on DVD entitled Beloved, a musical of sorts from France, directed by a person clearly enamored of the films of Jacques Demy, but without Demy’s visual brilliance and certainly without a composer of Michel Legrand’s quality. It’s a two-and-a-half hour movie, and I was too fidgety to watch more than forty minutes of it – I enjoyed some of it, but the music just isn’t good enough to make it work. I do love the actress Ludivine Sagnier, but she disappears after forty minutes and turns into Catherine Denueve. The other star is Chiara Mastroianni – the daughter of Miss Deneueve and Marcello Mastroianni. I suppose I’ll try to finish it at some point. I think if I’m to watch anything else whilst I’m sick, I might try to finish the remaining episodes in the last Inspector Maigret box set – I only watched about half of them when I first got the final box.
Then the fellow who does our tape transfers picked up the tapes for our upcoming project. And we got our second blurb for the new Adriana Hofstetter book – from our very own Pogue. Here it is:
“‘I’m not part of this generation!’ huffs Adriana Hofstetter, defiantly declaring her independence from her fellow students at Hollywood High, as well as stating the obvious. For Adriana is the squarest peg never to fit in a round hole… not that she’d want to be pigeonholed by the usual teenage obsessions. Even she calls herself a freak. Her fashion sense has gone the way of the Dodo bird. She’s “new” technology-challenged. And she’s utterly confounded by social networking (understandable when your only friends are the musical-mad gay Billy and an octogenarian ex-film producer who rattles off more one-liners than Henny Youngman).
But Adriana has no time for the angst and self-absorption of her peers. Not when there’s a new mystery to get absorbed in. When a cast member disappears rehearsing the school’s production of The Music Man, our quirky amateur sleuth quickly realizes they’ve got Trouble, right there in Hollywood High, spelt with a capital “T”, that rhymes with “D” and stands for… “Dead”? It’s a sure bet Adriana will find out…despite suspicious cast members, admonishing policemen, threatening letters, and a meddling mother. Once again, Bruce Kimmel pays witty, wry tribute to the square pegs of the world and the enchanting town of Hollywood, both old and new.”
Charles Edward Pogue, screenwriter of THE FLY & DRAGONHEART
Isn’t that a lovely second blurb? Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I must get these here notes posted so I can get to bed early and get as much beauty sleep as possible.
Today, I must continue my resting and getting better. To that end, I’ve cancelled going to see You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown – just not a good idea to be out in the cold and out late. So, I’ll do stuff around the house, I’ll go out for a quick bite and yet more chicken soup, I’ll hopefully pick up some packages, and I’ll rest.
Tomorrow and the weekend will be more of that boring routine – but I’ve got to get this all out of me. Hopefully that will be sooner than later. Then next week I’ll be able to get back into the swing of things, as I have several lunches and meetings to do.
Oh, yeah, by the way – Happy Valentine’s Day to those who have Valentines. I do not have a Valentine, but I do have people that I care for dearly, so they are all my Valentines. So, eat some candy hearts, kiss someone (I can’t do that either, since I would not want to infect anyone with the guck), and give a nice hug to someone.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, continue resting and getting better, I must not see a show, I must eat, I must hopefully pick up some packages, and I must rest. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your favorite films of Miss Catherine Deneuve and Mr. Marcello Mastroianni? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland where I shall hopefully sleep well and hear no traces of the sound of mucous.