Well, dear readers, where are these damn flies coming from? Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, where are these damn flies coming from? Every day I seem to find one damn fly in the kitchen and one damn fly in the den. I let them get tired and then I kill the HELL out of them, although they can be quite elusively elusive. I try never to have a door open long enough for a damn fly to get in, but obviously they’re getting in. In case you haven’t gotten the drift, I hate flies, I loathe flies, although I’m fond of both versions of The Fly. I firmly believe flies were invented to annoy people. What other purpose do they serve? Have you ever tried to converse with a damn fly? Have you ever tried logic with a damn fly? I mean, I sit there and I say to them, “If you keep annoying me I will kill you just as sure as the day is long.” Do they get it? Do they use their little fly brains? Noooooo – they just keep annoying and therefore they DIE. Have you ever tried playing Scrabble with a fly? Doing the hokey pokey with a fly? Have you ever tried doing musical theater duets with a fly? They are no fun at all. They’re ugly little things and you’d think they’d learn not to come within a country mile of me or anywhere I am. But noooooo – they just keep annoying and therefore they DIE. Too many flies. It’s hot as hell in Philadelphia – what am I, 1776 all of a sudden. And speaking of hot as hell, once again we have had crazy heat here – over 100 degrees. It is insanity. On Saturday it’s supposed to be 104. Who here thinks this is normal? Anyone who thinks 111 degrees in Woodland Hills is normal needs their head examined. Records are being broken every day. Oh, and has anyone noticed that this is the final day of August? I can’t keep up with how fast these months fly by, like a gazelle eating a casaba melon. And tomorrow is a new month, a little month I like to call September. And it is my fervent hope and prayer that September will be a month filled with health, wealth, happiness, creativity, and all things bright and beautiful.
Yesterday was an okay day – nothing great, nothing terrible, it just went along. I did get nine hours of sleep, so that was nice. I answered e-mails, did some work on the computer, then went and had a side Caesar salad and a grilled cheese and bacon sandwich for my meal o’ the day. Then I picked up no packages and came home. I decided to finish catching up on SACDs and I’m almost done with that. I listened to the New World Symphony by Dvorak, an all Gershwin CD – those two were Living Stereo three-channel SACDs and sounded amazing, as did the Living stereo three-channel Mahler Das Lied von der Erde. Whilst listening, I continued my way through the book Roadshow. It hasn’t gotten any better. I find the writing style irritating, and the jumping from thing to thing without any purpose or warning was even more irritating. But the most irritating were the endless misspellings (mentioning the wonderful Peter Sellers as Peter Sellars – I mean, this isn’t brain surgery), cadged stories (he went to various performing libraries and copied stuff), and completely erroneous information (no, Half a Sixpence did not have glorious 70mm photography because it was shot in glorious 35mm and blown up to 70mm for a few engagements). I just keep thinking, well, there can’t be any MORE errors, and yet, they keep on coming.
After that, I went to Gelson’s and got a tiny bit (about an ounce) of lobster salad for my snack, came home and ate it. Then I began the daunting task of the commentary for the film music thing. I won’t be doing these again unless the person doing them stays far away from when we’re doing the Kritzerland show. It’s just too much. I also find it really difficult to write commentary before I have the show order, but I have no choice but to do it this way, since I won’t have heard all the selections until late on Friday and I will have zero time after that, other than cutting and pasting what I’ve written into the correct order, which I know I will then have to finesse. But at least I know the opening and closing. I’m not thrilled there are sixteen numbers in this thing, but at this point there’s nothing to be done about it. It was so frustrating, in fact, that I only got four numbers done and I just had to stop. I’ll try to do the rest today before rehearsal, and then after the rehearsal. I’d like to be done with it before the rehearsals on Friday – in fact, I have to be done with it by then or it’s simply not getting done, because I will do NO work on it on Saturday and Sunday. I’m told we’re up to about seventy-five people for Sunday’s show, which is great, but I’m also told that at least ten of our regulars booked other things, which I find truly irritating. It’s not like we’re a surprise or anything. Anyway, I’m hoping we’ll end up with ninety – after that it just gets a little too crowded there.
I also listened to more Miaskovsky music, all marvelous all the time. I even had a few telephonic calls.
Today, I’ll continue with the commentary, I’ll eat, hopefully I’ll pick up some packages, then we have our second Kritzerland rehearsal, and then I’ll finish the damn commentary come hell or high or low water. I sincerely hope no flies are in that equation.
Tomorrow we have rehearsals for the film music thing, and I have other things to do, as well. Saturday is our stumble-through then I’m sure some of us will go eat some foodstuffs. Sunday is our sound check and then we do our show, and I’m sure some of us will go to Little Toni’s afterwards, as that is what we do. Then Monday is this film music thing. So, what is a holiday weekend is anything but.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, write, eat, hopefully pick up packages, rehearse, write, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your favorite books about the business known as show – both film and theater? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, hoping there are NOT too many flies this day.