Well, dear readers, when the clock strikes twelve will twelve sit there and take it or will twelve strike the clock right back? This is the question that is roaming around the windmills of my mind as I write these here notes. There are evenings when I begin writing these here notes without a clew as to what the HELL I’m going to say, that I think, holy moley on rye, I’ve been writing these here notes every single day for the past eighteen YEARS. How frightening is that? That’s over 2900 DAYS. Just ponder that number. I gotta tell you – the windmills of my mind are boggled in the extreme. But what, me worry? I just keep on truckin’, like the damn Energizer Bunny, a bunny I know a little something about since I did one of the famous Energizer Bunny commercials, directed by Mr. Frank Oz and acting alongside Mr. Rip Torn, who once gave me a ride back in my teen hitchhiking days, and who was very encouraging to this young wannabe actor. What is this? I’m doing the story of my life all of a sudden? Shouldn’t I be writing some damn notes?
Yesterday was a loooooooong and winding day. I only got six hours of sleep, got up, got ready, and then had a noon o’clock meeting on a show I’m helping out with, that somewhere down the line I’ll probably direct a staged reading of, dangling participle and all. They’ve been working on it for years to no real avail, so they asked me to help and I’ve been meeting with them, but today’s meeting was, I think, a real breakthrough – I’d come up with what I thought was a simple solution to many problems and they jumped at it and suddenly a lot of stuff that didn’t seem feasible suddenly seemed like you could make work by doing this simple adjustment. It opened huge doors and as we all sat yakking, many good ideas were bandied about. I’ve asked the book writes to now do a two-page bullet-points plot layout. No detail at all, just a one or two-line description of each scene and how we get from thing to thing. That will make the songwriters’ job much easier.
After that, the songwriters took me to lunch at Hugo’s – but prior to my arriving there, I picked up one important envelope and did some banking. Once at Hugo’s, I had my beloved pasta papa, which was great. After that, I stopped at the mail place, but there was no important envelope there, which means it’s lost or was never sent, but they know about it and I’m hopeful they’re overnighting a check. Then I moseyed on over to the Group Rep at four for our auditions. Several of the “confirmed” people were no-shows, which is standard operating procedure for the entitled actors of LA. I don’t think they understand how annoying it is and I also think they don’t understand that those of us who are victims of their inane behavior keep lists that we share with every casting director in town. So, actors, don’t be stupid. If you confirm, show up, or have the damn courtesy to send an e-mail explaining why you can’t. Other actors were invited to audition and never responded – of those, only one showed up. But we did see about fifteen people and I was able to cast everything but one male ensemble role, three more kids, and our leading man. So, we’re not quite finished with the casting, but getting closer.
Then we went to the Coral Café to discuss everything. All I wanted was a small Caesar, which is what I thought I was ordering, with a few bits of chicken, but nooooooo, what arrived was a humungous salad with more chicken than I’ve ever seen on a salad, so much so that you couldn’t even see the damn salad. The Caesar dressing, normally very good, wasn’t very good, the chicken was kind of gross, and I’m not sure I ever found much of the lettuce. All in all, when I finished the chicken and a few bites of salad, I was ready to vomit on the ground and I’m still a bit nauseous even as I write these here notes. I took one Pepcid already and shall take another shortly.
Then I came home, answered e-mails, and finally relaxed. I forgot to listen to music so I have just rectified that situation, oh, yes, I have just rectified that situation. Dionne Warwick is singing a non-Bacharach/David song – Here’s That Rainy Day – beautiful.
Today, I am truly hoping the merde doesn’t hit the fan, truly I am. Otherwise, I have a lunch meeting, hopefully I’ll pick up packages and an important envelope, and then I really need to find our final person for the Kritzerland show so I can finish choosing songs. Then I’ll relax.
Tomorrow I’m not sure what’s happening and the same goes for the weekend, but there will be some new perks going up as we head to the finish line of the Indiegogo campaign – we went up to 102% yesterday, so that was good. And I remind you dear readers, one perk you should grab is the cast album.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, hope the merde doesn’t hit the fan, have a lunch meeting, hopefully pick up an important envelope, cast our final person, choose songs, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: As long as we’ve been discussing Mr. Bacharach and Mr. David and Miss Warwick, what are your favorite Dionne, Burt, and Hal songs? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, whilst I ponder the things that are roaming around the windmills of my mind.