Well, dear readers, I must write these here notes in a hurry for she of the Evil Eye will be here all too soon and I shall have to go a’wandering whilst she cleans. Upon my return, the Darling Daughter will hopefully be coming over and I think that rather than organizing the garage or storage, we’ll start to organize the Indiegogo perks, as I’d like to start getting that stuff shipped out, although they frown on that until they release the other funds they’re holding. But I’d rather be on top of it, frankly and frankly I’d rather be on top of it. I did manage to watch two motion pictures last night. The first was a no-budget 1962 piece of cheese entitled The Hands of a Stranger, a non-credited version of The Hands of Orlac, one of the most ripped-off stories in movie history – countless versions and variations of talented pianist loses his hands in an accident and has the hands of some deviant grafted on. This version played the bottom half of a double bill – top-billed was the very good film, Horror Hotel. This film takes place on three different sets for the most part – endless, repetitious scenes that make the film’s eight-five minutes seem longer than Ben-Hur. The “acting” from the leads is strictly from hunger, but there are two interesting actors in very small roles – the first gets “Introducing” in the credits – that would be young Barry Gordon. Of course, he was hardly “introduced” in this cheapo – he’d already been on TV many times and had been in two major studio films – The Girl Can’t Help It and Cinderfella, and, of course, he’d already starred on Broadway in A Thousand Clowns. The second interesting actor who was briefly in it is named Sally Kellerman. Not worth your time. Watch any of the other versions. Then I watched a 2019 thriller/horror film (made in 2017) entitled 1BR – as in one-bedroom apartment. It’s about a young girl trying to make a new life in Los Angeles, California, as she moves into a new apartment where the tenants seem ever so friendly. As it transpires, things aren’t quite what they seem. It’s mostly a Scientology-like cult thing that won’t let her leave. It’s not terrible, nor is it very good, but I liked the lead actress. Again, very low budget, I have no doubt, and the writer/director’s first film and, as of now, his only film.
Yesterday had one highlight, otherwise it was okay with one annoying thing in the evening. I got maybe seven hours of sleep, got up, shaved, answered e-mails, did a few things on the computer, and then moseyed on over to a high-end strip mall south of Mulholland on Beverly Glen. It’s where Herb Alpert’s club Vibrato is, and there’ve been several really good trendy jernts next door to Vibrato, long before Vibrato was there – I’m talking late 1970s/early 1980s – that jernt sits empty now. There’s also a deli there, but I’ve never tried it. And then there’s this Eyetalian jernt there called something I can’t remember. There I met Richard Sherman and daughter Vicky and what fun we all had. Richard seemed happy and well – ninety-four-years-young – and we reminisced, laughed, and ate grand foodstuffs. He had his usual Eyetalian meal, pasta Bolognese. Vicky had fettucine Alfredo and a little starter salad, and I had penne with sausage in a pink sauce, along with a starter Caesar. I’m always bowled over by how much Richard loves my books – Vicky tells me he reads them over and over again. I brought him the latest and a copy for Vicky, too, as she’s begun to read them – she’s just finishing up the Kritzer books. It was two wonderful hours. Here’s Richard and I as we were leaving the jernt.
I came right home, answered more e-mails, did a few more things on the computer, prepared the episode nine document but really needed a day off from writing to formulate how I’m doing these two LA episodes. Then I watched what I watched. Between movies, I thought I’d have a nice salad for my evening snack and wanted something really light. So, I ordered from Stanley’s – at first, I put the chicken Caesar in the cart but I didn’t want that at all. So, I looked through the other salads and found the one that I wanted – a honey walnut thing in a very light raspberry vinaigrette. I’ve only had that a couple of times many years ago and it’s very nice – don’t know why I haven’t had it in all this time I’ve been ordering take out. I wrote to give me two dressings, and then I went to checkout but I hadn’t actually put it in my cart. I’d already forgotten that the Caesar was in there – I ordered, and it arrived twenty minutes later and I could not believe I got this huge chicken Caesar that I didn’t want. Well, I wasn’t going to waste it, so I ate it and I sure wish I hadn’t. The other salad would have been perfect and perfectly light in calories. This thing wasn’t so light. Very annoying.
Today, I’ll be up by eight-thirty and out of the house at nine. I really, really don’t want to eat anything of substance. I may just go to Art’s Deli and get a bagel and cream cheese and a side of either bacon or sausage. That’s very reasonable and will allow me to have a meal with the Darling Daughter. I think we’ll go to Stanley’s and I’ll get that light salad thing. I know she’ll love the food there. We’ll do whatever organizing we’ll do, then at some point she’ll go on her merry way, and I’ll try to write at least half of episode nine. I’ve already chosen the song for that episode, so that part’s done. Then I can watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow, the Darling Daughter may return and if that happens, then maybe we’ll go spend a couple of hours at the storage place. I’d truly love to start tossing stuff from there directly into the trash and I’d love to organize things so I can actually get in there and find stuff. I do know the two Unsung Musical cover paintings are in there somewhere and I’d like to find ‘em and sell ‘em. Then next week is finishing up writing the episodes, at which point, I’ll go through them, make some little adjustments because I’ve rethought something, and do title pages for all the episodes. Also have to cut down the screenplay.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up by eight-thirty, I must eat only a nosh, I must organize Indiegogo things with the Darling Daughter, then share a meal, I must write half of episode nine, and then I must watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your favorite movie of the weeks from the Golden Age, say 1970 to 1980. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, happy to have had a let’s get together lunch with my wonderful Richard Sherman.