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August 22, 2018:


Bruce Kimmel Photograph bk's notes

Well, dear readers, here we are, a day-and-a-half into our Indiegogo campaign and we’re at 57%!  Yes, you read that right and I could not be more pleased.  Yes, we still have 43% to go, but this is an extraordinary beginning and we’ll keep pushing it along and at some point I’ll put up five new perks. Something in me would love to reach our goal super early – that would be simply a beautiful thing.  Here’s the direct link again and please share it with anyone you think might be interested in any of our fun perks. 


Yesterday, well, there was one extremely annoying irritant to deal with, which I dealt with by pushing it to today, but I’ll have to figure out how to really deal with it because it’s not so good.  I truly would so love to have a few months where there were no irritants, where I could catch my breath and not worry about things, so hopefully there will be no further retrogrades for a while and we can have a good thing going. What am I, my close personal friend Stephen Sondheim all of a sudden?  I got about seven hours of sleep, got up, saw that we’d just crossed 50% as day two began, which was gloriously glorious, and then I answered e-mails and had some telephonic calls.  I didn’t feel like sitting in a restaurant, so I just got some Taco Bell, came right back home, ate it all up, then buckled down, Winsocki and began a set of liner notes, which I kept at until I finished.  I sent those off, and also finished up the commentary, so that was all good.  I did go do a donut run, mostly because I wanted to give Grant’s mom three glazed donut holes for her ninety-ninth birthday – she loves those glazed donut holes. I told her that she needs to definitely hang on to 100 because that would be the rather astonishing thing of having her and Kritzerland turn 100 at the same time. 

I listened to just a little music, had more telephonic conversations, kept my eye on our rising total for the campaign, ate my one donut, then sat on my couch like so much fish.

Last night, I watched two “documentaries” on the Flix of Net.  Both were only forty-four minutes and the second of them was, in reality, just an episode of some Brit reality crime series, you know the kind, filled with pretentious narration by an irritating Brit voice and horrid music and lots of build-ups to what must have been commercial breaks.  The subject was an interview with a serial killer, which was also the title of the episode.  It was some whack job, an ugly mo-fo who killed eleven people.  The actual interview was fascinating, and so were the talking heads and the at-the-time footage.  If only one didn’t have to endure the narration and music. 

The first one was much more interesting and well done – about a young Hispanic arrested for the murder of a sixteen-year-old girl.  He tells his story and we see the interrogation tapes, once again police overstepping their bounds trying to pound and coerce a confession by manipulation and frankly illegal tactics.  It just makes you wonder how many people have been railroaded over the years by these immoral creeps who should know better.  The prosecuting attorney is, to my mind, even worse in her smugness and smarminess.  But the young fellow never breaks, maintains his innocence, keeps asking why they’re doing this to him (he was identified via a sketch artist’s rendering from a witness who only saw the killer fleetingly on a dark night).  It’s really frightening to see how it initially plays out.  His alibi is that he was at a Dodgers game at the time of the killing.  He lucks out with a great lawyer who hears about the case and believes in his innocence.  Happily they find the tickets to the game, but that of course doesn’t really prove anything to the smelly prosecution.  So this lawyer goes and views all the cameras and tapes from that game – you know, TV coverage and the on-field cameras for the big-screen TVs – and he finally finds a shot but it’s low-def, too blurry, and can’t be used.

Then in a completely random thing that is just one of those miraculous little miracles, as it turns out they were shooting an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm that night.  So the lawyer goes to the production company, finally gets them to show him all the footage shot that night and voila, there in at least three shots is this young fellow and his daughter, proof positive he was there.  But that means nothing to the oily prosecution, since those tapes were time-stamped at nine-fifteen and the murder took place an hour later – and their contention is he could have gotten there in time.  In other words, they don’t care about truth at all.  But the persistent defense attorney is then able to get the cell tower records of that night and that, coupled with the young man’s cell phone records clearly shows he made calls FROM Dodger Stadium at around ten-fifteen.  The judge finally threw out the case.  We then find out that the two interrogating officers were not let off the hook – one was, I believe dismissed, and the other was moved to a whole other department. The young man won a $300,000-plus lawsuit, too.  But the prosecuting attorney, the smarmy woman – nothing.  It’s a riveting 44-minutes with a for once happy ending. 

After that, occasional dear reader Leslie and daughter Alexa came by for a brief chat, and then I finally relaxed and listened to some more music.

Today, I hope I have some way to deal with the irritant I know I have to deal with, and then I’ll start liner notes number two and hopefully complete them.  Then I’ll hopefully pick up what would be a very helpful important envelope, and then at six I have our little Sami and mom farewell dinner at Ruth’s Chris.

Tomorrow we have our callbacks, so that will be interesting and fun, Friday I have a work session, then that night I’m supping with the Shermans at a restaurant of their choosing, and then I’m not sure what is happening on the weekend.

Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, hopefully deal with the irritant, write liner notes, hopefully pick up an important envelope, and then have a dinner.  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, happy to have achieved the Heinz of percentages, 57%.

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