Well, dear readers, I must get crackin’ on these here notes because I’ve got a lot to talk about and you know that when I have a lot to talk about I’ve got a lot to talk about – in other words, I’ve got a lot to talk about. So, let’s get things rolling with a nice visual. Those who’ve read the Kritzer books know that my grandparents lived at the Hotel St. Regis on the Ocean Park promenade. When I was growing up we went down there a lot – that was when it was Ocean Park Pier and my grandfather had his Wheel-O stand. Then it became Pacific Ocean Park – the Hotel St. Regis was located directly across from what became the entrance to POP. In all of my looking over the years, I have seen many, many photos, postcards, and other ephemera of POP and not one angle in any of them ever revealed the hotel. The only evidence of it was in some TV episode I watched – can’t remember which at the moment, but it was a chase scene and as a car turned a corner there it was. But I think whatever program it was was shot after the park had closed or maybe even burned down. But yesterday, on the POP Facebook page someone posted a photo of the entrance to POP – Neptune’s Kingdom. And finally, the angle was different and not head on, and in the left-hand corner of the photo, there is the Hotel St. Regis – you can even see its sign. And here it is for your mental delectation.
Isn’t that great? If you count the bottom floor as the first, which it was, my grandparents were on the third of the four floors and their window would have been about three over to the left.
End of prologue. And now, the notes proper. Yesterday was a rather okay day as days go. I was up at six to announce our new title, then I went back to sleep, was awakened around nine-twenty by the telephonic device, then fell asleep again and slept until eleven. Then I got up, answered e-mails, printed out orders, did some work on the computer, then went and had a chili, cheese and onion omelet and no potatoes, and an English Muffin followed by some tap tap tapioca pudding. After that, I picked up one package containing several items. I saw one idea, very rough, for the cover of the new book, which will be original art. I’ll see another couple of ideas, then we’ll settle on one. Then I sat on my couch like so much fish.
Yesterday, I watched a motion picture on DVD, an HBO movie I’d missed, from 1995, entitled Indictment, about the McMartin case. This is a seriously good motion picture about one of the most shameful examples of how screwed up our justice system is and now disgusting and awful the media is – they’ve only gotten worse since the McMartin case, and these bottom feeders are never ever held accountable for their biased and horrid behavior and their never-ending quest for sensationalism based on nothing. To these miscreants there is no presumption of innocence. And the district attorney, the judge, all of them are all agenda-laden types who have no business doing what they’re doing – and yet the fate of innocent people is in their hands. This case, the longest in US history and certainly the most expensive at $16 million dollars, was a travesty from day one. And there are still people to this day who think the McMartins were guilty. Lives ruined forever – what does anyone care? Certainly not the district attorney or the mayor or the person who used more than questionable techniques to elicit testimony from small children – and not a one of them was held accountable for their heinous behavior. It’s all detailed in this really good film, penned by Abby Mann, directed by Mick Jackson, and featuring an incredibly strong cast, including James Woods (never better), Henry Thomas, Mercedes Reuhl, Lolita Davidovich, James Cromwell, and others. The film is so powerful that I frequently found myself yelling at the TV as I watched it.
And just in case you think anything’s changed, one only has to look at the once again current brouhaha with Woody Allen. I’m not trying to be controversial, but whatever one thinks of that, and I take no sides because, guess what – I don’t know what happened and have only read the he said/she said articles – Mr. Allen was not prosecuted, and until there is proof, then Mr. Allen must be presumed innocent. It’s the way it’s supposed to work. But not with our media – no, they have to whip everyone into a feeding frenzy, and it’s a hundred times worse now than it was with the McMartins, thanks to every idiot and his brother having Facebook and forums and blogs on which to post – they come right out and admit they don’t really know anything but they still find Mr. Allen guilty. They come right out and say that they can because they’re not sitting on a jury. For me, that seems a little delusional and more than a little typical. Just say the word molestation and whoever it’s being directed at is guilty. The McMartin trial should have been a clear lesson on these kinds of dangers, but no, on it goes. Anyone who doesn’t automatically come out and say GUILTY is immediately “unfriended” (Facebook is like grammar school in that regard) and called a friend of molestation. I cannot recommend this film highly enough both for its artistry and importance.
After that, I had a work session, and then I went to cousin Dee Dee and Alan’s for a dinner party. In attendance were my cousin Mickey Rapkin (who wrote Pitch Perfect) and his friend, actor Jason Harner, Kelsey Scott, who, in addition to doing a couple of Kritzerland shows, also co-starred in Twelve Years a Slave, her friend, whose name I don’t remember, former dear reader Panni, and li’l ol’ me. I arrived after the first course, and I only ate some couscous and some vegetables, plus a small bit of apple crumb something-or-other. The conversation was sparkling and occasionally laugh-out-loud funny. We heard tales of cleanses (what is it with this stuff), and weird yoga done in extreme heat – after all the yoga talk, I said that I was a Jew and didn’t do yoga – after all, yoga spelled backwards is – a goy. Mickey had been at Amoeba a few days ago and found the Varese LP of the Nudie Musical soundtrack. He asked me to sign it to him, which I happily did. Then I came home and it was so late I had to immediately begin these here notes.
Today, I have the last of the songs to choose, but must wait until our final cast member is set. I’ve gotten most of the music we need, too. I’ll start the liner notes, then at two Terri White and her ever-lovin’ Donna come over and we’ll go get a bite to eat somewhere. After that, I’ll relax and watch a motion picture or three.
Tomorrow, I’ll continue writing liner notes, then I’ll go to the theater – I have to be there at six-thirty to run a few things – Dana Dewes comes back to the show. Then I’ll watch the show and sit with some folks I know. Friday I have a morning meeting at a nearby coffee shop, Saturday is mine all mine, and Sunday I judge the finals for that singing contest.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, finish choosing songs, write, have a lunch meeting with Terri White, hopefully pick up packages and then relax. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Ask BK Day, the day in which you get to ask me or any dear reader any old question you like and we get to give any old answer we like. So, let’s have loads of lovely questions and loads of lovely answers and loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, after which I’ll be up and doing many, many things.