Well, dear readers, great Caesar’s ghost, it is late and therefore I must write these here notes in a hurry for to not write these here notes in a hurry would cause chaos and disarray and perpetual anticipation – oh, a Stephen Sondheim reference. So, let me dive right in and say that I am sitting here like so much fish listening to underappreciated British composer, Mr. Cyril Scott, his fourth symphony, which is quite attractive. I really knew little of Mr. Scott and probably would have known nothing about his music were it not for Mr. Bernard Herrmann who, on Lyrita Records, made a recording of two of his nice piano concertos. That was all I knew until I got this recording on Chandos. There are a few other Chandos albums of Scott music and I’ll probably have to get those at some point. Anyway, as you know, I’m very fond of English music by English composers and these are just lovelier than lovely pieces in the style I like very much. Prior to Mr. Scott I had a long telephonic conversation, hence the late notes, and prior to that I watched another limited series crime documentary, this one entitled Bad Vegan. It was quite interesting, a story of a smart woman who kept making incredibly stupid decisions and the con man who conned her and yet kept her on the hook telling her the most outrageous lies. It’s frustrating to watch this woman never really explain why she allowed herself to be duped by this man who she married when it was so bloody obvious what he was doing. And even at the end of the fourth and final episode, she has a telephone conversation with him – and why? She went to jail because of him and his shenanigans, lost everything, and why would you have a conversation with that person, unless the filmmakers asked her to, so they’d have what I suppose is an ironic ending to their show. But it was compelling, as many of these things are. All that said, the woman at the center of it all says the documentary is deceptive and fudges facts to make better drama and she does point out that that final phone call was made at an earlier time, which the producers acknowledge. And prior to that, I watched some 1950s thing called The Brain Eaters. It’s a low budget cheesefest and not very good or even fun. I was thoroughly bored throughout it’s very long sixty-minute runtime. It was made on a budget of $26,000 and shot in six days and it features an early performance by one Leonard Nimoy (misspelled in the credits as Nemoy). It opened on January 14, 1959 in LA as the bottom half of a double bill – the top half being The Screaming Skull. Roger Corman was a silent producer on the film, and was sued by Robert Heinlein, who said the film was close to his novel The Puppet Masters, which Corman said he’d never read. After reading it, he admitted they were similar and settled out of court for five thousand bucks. And that’s more than you needed to know, I’m sure.
Yesterday was a peculiar day for reasons I no longer remember. I got seven hours of sleep, answered e-mails, had a telephonic conversation with the publisher and the contracts are now done and I’m just awaiting contact from the check-in coordinator so we can send in the book elements. Doug Haverty didn’t get around to making the order page – hopefully, that will happen today at some point so we can do the pre-orders. I had Jersey Mike’s for food – one Philly cheesesteak sandwich, regular size, which is pretty small, and one mini turkey sandwich, which it tiny. Both were good. Then I finished my part of the project with David Wechter – he has only to write the one-page epilogue and that’s that. Then we begin cutting out fifty pages and finessing the entire thing. I’d written half of the ending but hated it – the flow wasn’t right, the fun stuff wasn’t fun, and I needed a strong finish, which we never got around to figuring out. But last night, whilst showering before bed, it came to me how to do it and what it should be, so before going to sleep I wrote all that down. Then it was just cutting some stuff and replacing it with the new stuff. After that, I did my viewing, had some ice cream for a sweet, and the rest you know. Great Caesar’s ghost, I say.
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll do whatever needs doing, I’ll hopefully hear from the check-in coordinator, I’ll probably leave the house and get something to eat – I have to stop doing DoorDash so much – I’ll hopefully pick up some packages, and then I can watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow, we resume performances and I’ll probably attend. Saturday I can relax and then attend the evening performance, and I’ll be seeing Sunday’s matinee and do the talkback after and then I’m having a nice meal out somewhere and I don’t care who knows it. Then next week is very busy, including getting one of our actors ready to replace a gal who leaves the show after Friday night’s performance.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up when I’m up, do whatever needs doing, hopefully hear from the check-in coordinator, eat, hopefully pick up some packages, and then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: If you could get in your haineshisway.com Time Machine and go back to see one roadshow engagement film, which would it be? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, enjoying the music of Cyril Scott and saying great Caesar’s ghost, just because I can. And which of you smart dear readers knows where that comes from and who said it regularly?