Well, dear readers, I think I shall actually try and get to bed before two in the morning. Isn’t that a fine idea? I’m still feeling logy and weird, but the Excedrin PM worked and I didn’t wake up with a headache, although I can’t say there isn’t one lurking. I did wake up at five-thirty, nauseous, and some of that got into my throat in that burning way and that really made my already trashed voice even worse and it really hasn’t gone away. I’m hoping it will be gone by the time I arise this morning. It’s tiresome already, all this fighting illness stuff. I blame covert germ warfare tests. I blame Rio. I blame the damn bossa nova. I blame Mame. I blame my youth – you remember my youth from a loooooooooong time ago? I blame this damn paragraph, of which I’ve had my fill.
Yesterday was an acceptable day as acceptable days go. I woke up at eleven-thirty after about nine hours of sleep. That was acceptable. Then I just relaxed and did some stuff on the computer, plus a bit of work on the LA show. Then I decided not to have an all salad day because the red wine vinegar would have been too acidic on my wacky throat, so instead I went and had a breakfast burrito, fruit, and a bagel. Then I came home and answered e-mails and for fun I listened to all of Lanny’s orchestrations (as synth mock-ups) in a row, and boy are they fun and terrific. He’s just starting to get to the other composers’ songs now – I think he’s only got one left of mine, plus the one song he doesn’t have yet, the one with the monologues in between verses. Then I sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched a motion picture on the Flix of Net entitled Timeline. I knew what I was in for, but I figured I could snooze a bit – which I did for about twenty minutes. It’s a terrible movie, maybe the worst Richard Donner’s ever done. Two screenwriters thinking they’re better and cleverer than Michael Crichton, who wrote the novel on which the film is based. Um, no. The casting is weird, the whole thing feels scotch-taped together, which I gather it was. They obviously tested the film, in the way they do these days, and then kept reediting instead of believing in what they had. There was no amount of reediting that was going to save this gobbler – that would have had to happen in the script and casting stages. Jerry Goldsmith wrote the score – I’m no fan of his later work, especially this late (he didn’t live much longer), but it’s Jerry Goldsmith and Goldsmith knows how to score the movie the director made. But of course they all ran scared, reedited and then told Goldsmith he had to adjust his score to the new edit and he refused. That’s the party line. I think the reality line is that when a movie sucks they don’t want to blame anyone but the composer. It’s always that way – blame the music – not the script or the actors or the director, always change the music. Well, they changed it – Brian Tyler did the new score and it’s just what you’d expect – a lot of thumping and two-note “tunes.” And Mr. Donner got the score he deserved because that’s what you get when you have no courage and you pander. And guess what? The film was a flop anyway, so, it wasn’t the music, kids. Anyway, it was fairly dreadful.
After that I just relaxed.
Today, I will hopefully arise after a good night’s beauty sleep. I’ll relax, do some work on the LA show, eat, hopefully pick up packages, get the last of what needs to be shipped done because the helper is then gone for a week, getting married. If I feel better, then I’ll make today the all salad day. If not, not.
Tomorrow is our first Kritzerland rehearsal, which I’m very much looking forward to, and also I’m praying the hardcover books arrive. Wednesday I’m lunching with Sami and her mom, Thursday is our second Kritzerland rehearsal, then we have our stumble-through on Saturday and our sound check and show on Sunday.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, do some work on the LA show, eat, hopefully pick up packages, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your favorite time travel films and books? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, after which I’d say I’d put the blame on me, only you know what – don’t blame me.