Well, dear readers, it has just occurred to me that as I wrote "it has just occurred to me" that nothing, in fact, has occurred to me, therefore why did I write "it has just occurred to me"? My goodness, these notes already have a peculiar Samuel Beckett air to them, don't they? It reminds me of his novel, How It Is, which I bought as a teenager, having enjoyed Waiting for Godot. Well, this novel, How It Is is very strange - I could never get past the first page and yet I thought the first page marvelouly obtuse. Here is the first sentence/paragraph of Mr. Samuel Beckett's How It Is:

how it was I quote before Pim with Pim after Pim how it is three parts I say it as I hear it

Here is the second sentence/paragraph:

voice once without quaqua on all sides then in me when the panting stops tell me again finish telling me invocation

Isn't that marvelously obtuse? Rather like these notes. I especially like the fact that there is no capitalization (except the "I") and no punctuation (that continues for the entire book). And any writer who uses the word "quaqua" is okay by me. Have I mentioned that it has just occurred to me that nothing has occurred to me except, of course, it has occurred to me that I will be using the word "quaqua" many times in today's notes. That way, if anyone happens to search the word quaqua whilst using our handy-dandy Unseemly Search box they will be rewarded beyond their wildest dreams. Speaking of wildest dreams...

Last night I dreamed I was at Manderley.

In my dream, I came out of my bedroom, walked into the living room and sat down at the piano. I began to play some clever tune, but I noticed that not much sound issued forth. I thought that strange. Then I noticed that the whole keyboard was slightly askew. I looked at the slightly askew keyboard and began to get a bad feeling. I looked up at the window near the piano and it too was askew. I than ran into the kitchen and saw that my handy-dandy laptop computer was gone. As I ran to the den I began chanting, "No, no, no, no, no..." over and over again. When I got to the den the whole room was a mess and everything was missing. I ran back through the living room and out the front door, yelling for help. When I got near the driveway, there was a van of some sort parked there and it was clear that the uncouth interlopers were still in the midst of robbing me blind. I began to yell at the top of my lungs, "Neighbors! Neighbors! Help me! They are stealing my stuff! Neighbors!" Either no one was home or they didn't hear me or they were not inclined to come help, but no one answered my call. I then looked down the pathway that leads to the yard and there was a man there coming toward me with what looked like an automatic weapon. Then I saw someone coming down the street. Then the whole thing got even more surreal, and it turns out the police were already there and they captured all the uncouth interlopers with great glee and all my stuff was safe and sound and they put the uncouth interlopers in chains and took them off. Then I woke up.

Wasn't that an interesting dream? I hate when I dream about uncouth interlopers who come and steal from me, come and take things that don't belong to them. Who do these uncouth interlopers think they are? And what is up with my neighbors? I won't be having any of them over for dinner, let me tell you that. In any case, the uncouth interlopers got their just desserts, and I don't mean a Cherry Pie. I am glad my dream had a happy ending, otherwise it would have been a nightmare and we hate nightmares, especially as regards uncouth interlopers trying to take what doesn't belong to them.

Someone once asked if I make these things up. No, I do not make them up. I really dreamed it, and my dreams are quite vivid and luckily I remember enough of them so that I can hurry to my handy-dandy laptop computer (safe and sound in my kitchen) and mention them in these here notes.

You know, it has just occurred to me that we should all click the Unseemly Button below before we all find ourselves saying "quaqua".

As I mentioned in yesterday's notes, I was putting together a little compilation CD of all the Guy Haines tracks (for a friend). I had no idea Mr. Haines had sung on so many albums, but luckily all of his songs fit on one long CD. I hadn't heard many of these for many years. And so I played other bits and pieces of some of those long-past albums and I played a couple of albums in their entirety. It is fascinating to hear this stuff years later. When I'm in the throes of doing an album, I always like what we're doing, I hear it over and over again and I'm usually pretty okay with everything by the time we're finished. But coming back to them years later, I usually only hear mistakes and hear things that I would do differently, and yet I can still appreciate them for what they are or aren't. But I very rarely think that I got something perfect, and I very rarely think that I got something totally wrong. One of the albums that I listened to was The Paul Simon Album, and I must say it was a bit of a shock. I really didn't like a lot of it. I thought my casting (which I'm usually pretty good with) was not perfect, and I thought some of the arrangements were less than stellar (I only worked closely on a handful of them, probably less than five). Normally, I'm very involved in the layout of the songs, but I think I was doing two or three other albums at the same time. I'd been very pleased, for the most part, with the other album in that series, The Burt Bacharach Album, where I'd basically done all the arrangements in conjunction with the musical director, Brad Ellis. I just kept thinking as I listened to the Simon album, I'd really like another shot at this. But, that said, the album does have a handful of nice tracks which do work successfully - Amanda McBroom's Still Crazy After All These Years is lovely and simple; Jane Krakowski's Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover is great, and Tami Tappan's I Do It For Your Love is the best thing on the album, both vocally and in terms of arrangement and production. That track is everything I love to do as a producer. It's got real mood, it's a little movie for the ear. I remember finishing mixing it and not being totally happy. I remember saying to Vinnie, "It's missing something." I went home, thought about it, and came in the next day and said to Vinnie, "I hear the sound of water dripping from a rusty faucet." That's just what I heard in my head - I went into the studio with a bucket and some water and created the sound I heard. And we put it into the song as if it were part of the arrangement, on a specific beat of each line. And it just makes the song for me, even though it's a fairly subliminal thing that most people aren't even aware of hearing. One of the other albums I listened to in its entirety was Prime Time Musicals. Unlike The Paul Simon Album, that's one where I think that I wouldn't change anything at all - I love all the material, the arrangements, the casting, and the whole affair is just a lovely confection.

Today I am picking up the last of my three proofers' notes, and I will combine them all into one memo, mark up the galley and send it back. I believe we are in the home stretch now and I'm very excited. I'm also going over to Image Entertainment to hear the final sound EQ on the Nudie Musical transfer, so I can approve that. So, that too is in the home stretch. I'm in my home, too, stretching, so the whole thing just has a synchronous feel to it.

It has just occurred to me that I should end today's notes, because I have a very busy day ahead (tonight I'm having dinner with our very own Vinnie). Don't forget, we must all say the word "quaqua" to everyone we see. If anyone asks what the hell you're talking about, merely reply, "Oh, you know, it's a Samuel Beckett thing." That will stun them and silence them. Today's topic of discussion: What are your favorite Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil songs? I am a huge fan of theirs, and I think it's sometimes fun to do pop composers as well as theater composers. I'll start: Here You Come Again (my favorite!), On Broadway, Somewhere Out There, You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling, Uptown. Your turn.