haines his way

Log Archives
November 2001

Friday, November 30, 2001

Well, dear readers, the rains of yesterday are gone and today the sun is out and it is a rather startlingly beautiful day here in Studio City, California 91604. Remember when zip codes were "zones" and had two numbers? Like Hollywood 28, California. I always preferred zones to zip codes. First of all, I had a zip code long before they existed, and that zip code was always to be zipped up. That was a fine zip code for a young lad to have, because if you were zipped down everyone pointed at you and made fun of you. The more astute of you may have noticed that I have somehow managed to get right to the zipper, and that is because this is the "tease" section, this is supposed to get you all hot and bothered to click the Unseemly Button below to get to the body of these here notes. Also, it has been pointed out to me that the Unseemly Button is not actually a button at all, it is words. And yet, I keep calling it an Unseemly Button. I know not why, I just do. Zip. Uh, oh, to see the result of the zip, you will have to click the Unseemly Button Which Is Really Words below.

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- Friday, November 30, 2001 @ 10:25 AM PST

Thursday, November 29, 2001

Well, dear readers, it's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, it is pouring down rain right here in sunny California, and the old man is snoring. I rather like the rain, though, and am watching it pour down through my kitchen windows. Well, it's not pouring down through my kitchen windows, that would make things very wet indeed, kitchen-wise. Rather, I am sitting here watching the rain pour down outside my kitchen windows. I do not like the old man snoring, but when the old man is snoring that's that and there is nothing to be done about it.

Yesterday, Mr. Mark Bakalor told me that my Main Entry Text was too long, that the splash page should only contain a teaser, and then people should click the Unseemly Button to get to the real body of the text. So, apparently, I should be teasing you in this opening section. Very well, then. I am slowly unbuttoning my shirt. There is soft music playing, and candles burning, and the rain is beating softly on the roof - beating like our hearts. I'm removing my shirt now, my upper torso now completely bare except for skin. Wait, this isn't a tease, this is scary. This is like a Wes Craven movie. A bare chested me could cause the same kind of terrible dreams which I had two nights ago. Well, so much for teasing. Perhaps I'll have an English Muffin whilst you all click the Unseemly Button below.

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- Thursday, November 29, 2001 @ 09:55 AM PST

Wednesday, November 28, 2001

Well, dear readers, I am writing these notes at 5:30 in the morning. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, I am writing these notes at 5:30 in the morning. Why, you may ask, am I writing these notes at 5:30 in the morning, and I might tell you because you have a right to know. I am writing these notes before the crack of dawn because I had terrible dreams. Horrible dreams. Yes, dawn is not even cracked (well, actually I knew someone named Dawn who was, in fact, quite cracked) and I am up writing notes because I could not sleep on account of terrible dreams.

So, I logged on to my handy-dandy laptop computer to see what was what, and I was greeted by three e-mails, all having to do with the same thing, and all quite annoying. They had to do with The Story, which I will now absolutely be telling in all its glory, sooner rather than later. My story will contain no fiction whatsoever. Just cold hard facts backed up by cold hard documentation. Aren't those the best kinds of stories? My story is a horror story, so you might want to read it in the evenings, curled up by a fire with a glass of hot chocolate nearby.

My morning question is this: Does the ability to act in a totally reprehensible, underhanded and slimy way create bad karma? If so, when does the bad karma kick in? Not that I believe people would actually behave in such a way - after all, how could they? Wouldn't they be inviting bad karma? No, no one could possibly behave in a totally reprehensible, underhanded and slimy way because, logic would have it, they would have to get their comeuppance and bad karma would kick them in their bad butt cheeks. My second morning question is this: Do people with a lot of money avoid bad karma and getting their comeuppance? Do they think they are above moral and right behavior because they have a lot of cash to behave any way they please? Aren't those interesting questions? These are the kinds of thoughts that I think at 5:30 in the morning. Why I think them I have no clue. As I said, certainly there couldn't be people like that in the world, so why am I even thinking such thoughts?

In fact, I have no clue what the hell I'm going on about, do you, dear readers? Perhaps I'm still in the middle of my terrible dreams, perhaps that's it. Perhaps these notes are part of my nightmares. Yes, these are Nightmare Notes, no doubt about it. These notes aren't real at all, they're part of my dream state, which, by the way, is California. I must awaken from these nightmares to a new dawn. I must get myself out of the boggy swamps of my nightmares to a sunshiny day. Has anyone noticed that these notes have suddenly veered from nightmares to New Age in one fell swoop? May we ponder the mind that came up with the saying "one fell swoop"? Talk about nightmares. Shouldn't it be "one swell foop"? Doesn't that trip off the tongue better? Well, I have gone completely round the bend so perhaps we all ought to just click on the Unseemly Button and read my Big Announcements.

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- Wednesday, November 28, 2001 @ 06:31 AM PST

Tuesday, November 27, 2001

Well, dear readers, that was a comment from our dear reader Elan, who posted yesterday (using the handy-dandy Unseemly Comment Box). The answer, of course, is that there can never be enough rambling. We were born to ramble, and that is the raison d'etre of these notes. "Raison d'etre"? Isn't that just a little too fancy shmancy? Now we're doing French? I don't want these notes (ramblings) to get all hoity toity and yet I have used the hoity toity phrase "raison d'etre", which loosely translated to "eat the damn raisins". What that has to do with the price of tomatoes I have no idea. What anything has to do with the price of tomatoes is beyond me. Except, of course, the price of tomatoes, which has everything to do with the price of tomotoes. What the hell am I talking about? Where was I? Oh, yes, how much rambling can I do? Well, there is simply no end to the rambling I can do, because that, as we all know by now, is the eat the damn raisins of these here notes.

Elan also said he didn't think the chat room or message board was a good idea and also wanted to know where this whole thing was going, and also felt there should be more content. Let me address these issues one at a time.

The jury is still out on the chat room. Other than the Unseemly Comment Box, I have no interest in a "message board". In fact, I would quickly become bored by a message board. I have no idea where this whole thing is going, but if I were to hazard a guess I would say it's going nowhere fast. I agree about more content and I would be content to have more content immediately, but that damn Mr. Mark Bakalor is slow as molasses, with an emphasis on the latter two syllables. Even now, or even shortly, the Unseemly Guy Haines Photo Gallery should be open. I don't know if that falls under the category of "content", though. Of course, our The Broadway Radio Show will be premiering next Monday. If Elan or anyone else has any suggestions about content please post about it or e-mail me privately.

I can tell you this, dear readers, depending on what happens in the next two weeks, there will be plenty of content on this here site and in these here notes. The story will be told, because, above all, I am a story teller. Stay tuned for more details about The Story, because, frankly, I am chomping at the bit to tell The Story. If you've ever chomped at the bit you know exactly whereof I speak. I do believe it's that magical time when we must all press the Unseemly Button below, which will whisk us off to a magical land where we can ramble and tell The Story and chomp at the bit and have all the content that we desire. After all, that's the eat the damn raisins of these notes. Click away.

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- Tuesday, November 27, 2001 @ 09:56 AM PST

Monday, November 26, 2001

Well, dear readers, the vote is unanimous - I shall continue to write these here notes on the weekend, despite the stats showing me that there's almost no one reading them. We shall build, we shall grow, we shall have weekend readers, by gum. I haven't bought gum in some time - perhaps a box of Chiclets is in order. I have always liked Chiclets because it's like chewing teeth. I think I need therapy, dear readers, don't you?

I read that my close personal friend, Mr. Stephen Sondheim, has filed a lawsuit against the rich and powerful Mr. Scott Rudin, who is trying to interfere with Mr. Sondheim and Mr. Weidman's reworked version of Wise Guys, now called Gold. Well, this is heinous (heinous, do you hear me?). The thought that the rich can do such things is nauseating. The rich think they own the world, don't they? They think they are above the law and can twist the judicial system, just because they have money, don't they? These rich think they can use people and then spit them out like so much fish. Whoa, Nellie, I'm on a tear here, aren't I? Where did that come from? I don't even know Scott Rudin, but this type of David and Goliath thing bugs me and I just had to speak out about it. Luckily, Mr. Stephen Sondheim is also rich and will hopefully prevail. It would be a problem to fight the rich if you weren't rich, I think, but Mr. Sondheim is rich and so it will be a test of wills. Have you ever seen a test of Wills? Very bad. He doesn't study and he always does very poorly. Isn't it rich? Isn't it queer? If anybody has any idea what the hell I'm talking about, they should keep it to themselves, because if I find out what I'm talking about I may just have to commit Harry Carey.

My goodness that was a long paragraph about absolutely nothing whatsoever. Mr. Mark Bakalor hates long paragraphs and he will now bitch slap me once again. I wonder if all I've written thus far today would be the "a few thoughts" section of my header. After all, there have been few thoughts since I began spewing forth these words, which then begat sentences, which then begat paragraphs, and all for naught. Or is it nought? Or is it not? Or is it knot? So many variations, so little time. Perhaps we should all simply click on the Unseemly Button below and get on with the survey that I referred to in my header.

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- Monday, November 26, 2001 @ 10:24 AM PST

Sunday, November 25, 2001

Well, dear readers, what the hell did happen yesterday? I will tell you what happened yesterday because who am I not to tell you what happened yesterday after I've brought it up? That would be unseemly and we can't have anything unseemly around here, can we? Mr. Mark Bakalor came over on Friday and while he was here he showed me that stats. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, Mr. Mark Bakalor showed me the stats. Stats, of course, is stats spelled backwards, so who was I to argue with being shown the stats. And what these stats showed was that virtually almost no one came to the site last weekend to read these here notes. That's what the stats showed. I was so depressed about this that I simply couldn't write the notes yesterday, just knowing that virtually almost no one would be reading them. But then I thought, if only one person comes here to read them then it is worth writing them - but by then it was too late. And then I got e-mail from people who were disappointed that I hadn't written them, and now I'm all guilty about not having written them. So, here I am on Sunday, knowing the stats, but writing anyway because I simply will not feel guilty one more second.

The Unseemly Guy Haines Gallery will be open for business quite soon. At least that is what Mr. Mark Bakalor tells me. He has also told me how to do my very own links. Yes, I'm supposed to do my very own links. This is not an easy task for someone such as myself. It's not as easy as italicizing, for example. For example, italicizing "for example" is easy - I just push Control+Shift+I, and voila - "for example" is italicized. But for links I must sit here and type title and even then I don't think I'm doing it right, even though that is what Mr. Mark Bakalor wrote on a piece of paper. If I've done it wrong it doesn't really matter since the stats show that virtually almost no one will be reading this.

I've already got a headache from typing that link. Speaking of links, have you all eaten your Sunday breakfasts? Link sausages, eggs, toast, bagels, lox, cod, bacon, ham and cereal? I hope so and I hope we are all now feeling our oats. Have you ever felt your oats. How did the oats feel about being felt. After all, oats don't necessarily want to be felt and here we are feeling them willy-nilly with nary a care in the world for the damn oat. What the hell am I talking about? It doesn't matter because the stats show that no one is reading this anyway. Well, shall we click on the Unseemly Button to continue? I think we shall, even though the stats show that very few of us will actually be clicking.

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- Sunday, November 25, 2001 @ 10:34 AM PST

Friday, November 23, 2001

Well, dear readers, I hope all of you had a wonderbar Thanksgiving feast. I went with cousin Dee Dee and Alan to Dee Dee's mum's house, where we had more food than you can shake a stick at. I know, because I shook a stick and there was still more food. We had turkey, we had stuffing, we had sweet potatoes, we had mashed potatoes, we had pumpkin pie, we had lemon pie and by the end of it we were all sitting there like bloated whales, unable to move, unable to do anything but make sounds of being unable to move. It was, however, quite delicious and worth the pain.

Today I will be seeing Mr. Mark Bakalor, who is here in town for reasons known only to him. He is bringing his handy-dandy digital camera and we are going to try to capture some photos of my close personal friend, Mr. Guy Haines. He will then post these to this very website when he returns to his actual city. Then, and only then, will he make those fershluganah links on the left of the splash page clickable. I do not like links that are not clickable. Clickable links are the way to go, in my humble opinion. Yes, soon those unseemly links will be clickable and when they are let's all go over and click them just because we can. In the meantime, you can click the clickable Unseemly Archive Button, if you've missed any of these unseemly ramblings, and of course you may click the Unseemly Button below to get to see the rest of today's unseemly ramblings. In fact, let's all click that clickable link right this very minute. Why should we wait any longer? Tempis fugit or fuget or peugeot or fungus or whatever the hell it is - remember, time waits for no man or woman. The time is now. Time is fleeting. Oh, let's just click the damn thing and the hell with all these time sayings.

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- Friday, November 23, 2001 @ 11:21 AM PST

Thursday, November 22, 2001

Well, dear readers, here we are, Thanksgiving of 2001. Back in 1968 when I saw 2001 at the old Warner Cinerama on Hollywood Boulevard, it seemed inconceivable that I'd be writing bk's notes II right here at haineshisway.com. Well, of course it seemed inconceivable, because the internet would have seemed inconceivable back then (presumably if it had been conceivable then someone would have conceived it) and yet here we all are, on the internet in the year 2001. In point of fact, the year 1968 now seems inconceivable to me - which is all part and parcel of the time/space continuum effect. I don't know what the time/space continuum effect is, but I like the sound of it. What am I, Ray Bradbury all of a sudden?

I will keep these notes short today, because I know that there is turkey to be stuffed, gravy to be graved, cranberries to be cranned, and, as the King would say, etc. etc. etc. I hope that all my dear readers will eat voluminous amounts of food so that we can all feel stuffed like the turkeys do.

I missed the Thanksgiving Day Parade as I do every year, but I heard there were many Broadway musicals represented. I tried to sleep in this morning... What does that mean? I tried to sleep in? What, I should try to sleep out? It's far too cold to sleep out, so of course I tried to sleep in. What I should have said was I tried to sleep late this morning, but some inconsiderate wazoo was running the engine of his motorcycle. He never, as far as I could tell, actually went anywhere, he just kept revving the engine until I wanted to go outside and hit him with a cheese slice. Instead, I got up and ate a cheese slice, an invigorating thing to do at eight-thirty in the morning.

Well, if these notes are going to be short, then perhaps we should all click the Unseemly Button below so they can end.

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- Thursday, November 22, 2001 @ 10:27 AM PST

Wednesday, November 21, 2001

Well, dear readers, here we are, about to celebrate another Thanksgiving. And while there are certain things I most certainly won't be giving thanks for, there are just as many things (or more) that I will be giving thanks for. I'll let all you dear readers figure out which is which and what is what.

Last night we "laid back" the transfer we did on Monday night, laid it back to digital tape or whatever they lay these things back to. We were, amazingly, able to go in to the totally faded but mint print, and replace the really worn sections of our master, and somehow our genius colorist and engineer, Marvin, got them to match perfectly. So, now there is only approximately a minute of worn footage in the whole thing and that worn footage is minor. Isn't that great? The next thing we get to work on, in a few weeks, is the sound. Of course, like the camera negative, all the original sound elements are missing, so this will be a chore. Right now, if it's at all possible, we're thinking about doing a funky 5.1 remix - a fake remix - but still a remix, using the stereo album masters for the songs, if we can get them to synch up. But we'll also be including the original mono track as well, and we're not even sure we can make the stereo thing work, although we shall try our best.

If you know anyone who was in the film or who worked on the film, please have them e-mail me, as we're going to have a reunion of some sort, which we'll shoot for our faux documentary.

I'm very tired because, once again, I didn't get home until after two o'clock. Then, one of my favorite people, Miss Carol Hall (she of The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas) called me very early this morning, because she'd just found out "the story" and she wanted to know what had happened and if I was doing fine. I told her I was, in fact, doing fine, and I told her "the story". After she heard "the story", she used an interesting word - karma.

I'm tired of typing in the Main Entry Text box (well, I'm tired in general, because of two late nights in a row), so here's what I'd like you all to do: On the count of three, let's all click the Unseemly Button below - one, two, three...

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- Wednesday, November 21, 2001 @ 10:56 AM PST

Tuesday, November 20, 2001

Well, dear readers, I got home very very late last night, therefore I am very very tired this morning. Therefore, there may be some unseemly typos which I will be too tired to fix. I did get up at an early hour to try to write these here notes, but something was awry or perhaps amok with the page that I write these here notes on. I could not access said page - it kept saying "website not responding". I hate when it says that. How dare the website not respond when I got up so early just to write these here notes? That was just heinous (heinous, do you hear me?). Of course, Mr. Mark Bakalor told me it was me not his fancy shmancy page. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, he was trying to give me the Gaslight treatment, trying to make me think it was all my fault somehow, or the fault of aol or Internet Explorer.

Note from Mr. Mark Bakalor, "If he was able to get to the site, which he was, then he should have just as easily been able to get to the admin. section, which he wasn't. Therefore, I suspected the problem was client side and not host... so there!"

But, luckily we've had a happy ending to the story (we love happy endings) and here we are, writing these here notes.

Last night I went to Todd AO labs and sat in on the transfer of my film, The First Nudie Musical. It was a very interesting experience. I'd never sat in on a telecine transfer before, and what they do is fairly amazing. First of all, let me tell you the sad story of the elements. Oh, yes, we will now have the sad story of the elements, but luckily there is a happy ending to the sad story of the elements (we love happy endings. But, to read the sad story of the elements, you will have to click on the Unseemly Button below.

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- Tuesday, November 20, 2001 @ 12:03 PM PST

Monday, November 19, 2001

Well, dear readers, here we are on a brand new Monday in a brand new week, writing brand new words, at least in this particular configuration. Of course, all the words you're reading are really quite old and were made up by Word People from many ages ago. But enough about them.

I have, of course, in my senility, been giving out the wrong premiere date for our brand spanking new The Broadway Radio Show, but that is only because Mr. Mark Bakalor, in his senility, gave me the wrong premiere date. That is a lot of senility going on here at haineshisway.com, but frankly we're proud of our senility, so there you are. The real premiere date is Monday, December 3rd (not the 4th), and we've got some very special guests for the premiere show. We've also got something very special planned for the radio show. Once a month, the show will be devoted to a New Writer's Showcase, a special longer show highlighting new songs and shows by up and coming new writers. I had always wanted to do a sequel to Broadway Bound, and this seems another way of approaching it. If there are new writers reading this, simply e-mail Donald or me and we will tell you how to submit your material to us. Stay tuned for more details.

As I mentioned last week, tonight and tomorrow night we are doing the digital video transfer of my very own film, The First Nudie Musical, for its 25th Anniversary DVD release - a Special Edition, no less. We're doing a faux documentary, directed by my friend (and Academy Award nominee for his documentary on The Wild Bunch) Nick Redman, there will be two commentary tracks - one by yours truly, and one with Cindy Williams, Diana Canova and others. There will also be a deleted musical number, and in addition to the DVD there will be a soundtrack CD included in the package. I'm so excited about it that I can't even think about writing anymore until I click on the Unseemly Button below.

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- Monday, November 19, 2001 @ 10:02 AM PST

Sunday, November 18, 2001

Well, here I am, writing on a Sunday morning, because Mr. Mark Bakalor is a tough taskmaster and he actually thinks that someone will come here and be reading this. Most people I know are just arising, eating their Sunday breakfasts of bagels and lox, or pancakes, or omelets, or huevos rancheros, and reading their various and sundry Sunday papers. And yet, I am doing none of those things because I am sitting here writing this fershluganah blog. Well, I can tell you, it's not going to be a long blog today, it's going to be a short blog today because I too wish to have bagels and lox, pancakes, omelets and huevos rancheros, and I too wish to read my various and sundry Sunday papers.

Yesterday, as you know, Mr. Donald Feltham and I had Belgian Waffles. Did you know that Belgian Waffles only have eighty calories? Isn't that good? Of course, when I got through putting the melted butter and the three pounds of syrup on them they had 1,080 calories, but that is neither here nor there nor even there nor here. We came up with some great ideas for our upcoming The Broadway Radio Show, which I will go into more detail about when there's actually someone here reading this instead of eating bagels and lox and reading various and sundry Sunday papers.

For those who've been following these daily meanderings, I will tease you and tell you that last night Susan Gordon contacted me and we had a most lovely conversation. Isn't that funny? For those who don't know what the hell I'm talking about, merely click on the Unseemly Archive Button located at the top of every page.

Today I will be going over to my friend Mr. Grant Geissman's house. Grant is a brilliant guitarist and has played on most of my albums, including my close personal friend, Mr. Guy Haines' very own album. He has a program in his computer called Quark or something, and it allows me to see what my novel would look like when it's formatted as an actual book. This is a very exciting thing. I cannot do that on my lowly laptop computer because I do not have Quark and even if I had Quark I wouldn't know what the hell to do with Quark because these computer programs are all an enigma wrapped inside a black box floating in a black hole, at least to me they are. Oops, I think it's time to click on that Unseemly Button below, don't you?

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- Sunday, November 18, 2001 @ 11:04 AM PST

Saturday, November 17, 2001

Well, dear readers, I must write in a hurry, I must write in a white heat. Not a red heat, mind you, or even a green heat, no, I must write in a white heat because shortly Mr. Donald Feltham will be arriving at my home and off we shall go to Encino where, he tells me, there is a wonderful Belgian waffle place where we apparently will have wonderful Belgian waffles whilst discussing Mr. Donald Feltham's brand spanking new The Broadway Radio Show which premiers on December 4th, said premiere being a total surprise to Mr. Donald Feltham because apparently Mr. Mark Bakalor and I forgot to tell him about setting the date and has anyone out there noticed that this has turned into one of those unseemly run-on sentences that we all hate so much that just goes on and on with nary a period in sight I mean once these things start there is no stopping them and they take on a life of their own and is anyone really reading this anyway after all it is the weekend and aren't people out eating Belgian waffles and walking their dogs and someone please throw me a damn period because my fingers are getting very very tired and it's almost time to have to click the Unseemly Button below because I have almost used up all the space in this handy-dandy Main Entry Text box that Mr. Mark Bakalor has so thoughtfully provided me with and who will be very very angry because not only is this the longest run-on sentence in history it is also the longest damn paragraph I have ever seen in my life and it's totally unacceptable and by golly and by gosh just go ahead and click the damn Unseemly Button below because that's the only way we're getting out of this run-on sentence because I cannot stop I cannot stop I just go on and on and on and my hair is starting to look like Larry's from The Three Stooges and we can't have

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- Saturday, November 17, 2001 @ 09:36 AM PST

Friday, November 16, 2001

Well, dear readers, the danger in listening to music whilst typing is this: It puts you in a certain frame of mind, creates a mood as it were. For example, I'm listening to the soundtrack to Marie Ward by Mr. Elmer Bernstein right now. The track currently playing is kind of a harpsichord period thing and it's just making me want to go put on some tights and a tunich and go romping in the fields with some faire maidens and faire men in tights. Oh, wouldn't that be pithy fun? We could romp and play the wooden flute, and say things in metered cadence. I love saying things in metered cadence, don't you? And then we could feast on legs of mutton and drink wine from goblets. Oops, can't do that anymore, because the next track has come on and it's a liturgical vocal piece. Now I have to take off my tights and tunich and put on my hooded robe. I hate all these costume changes, especially this early in the morning. I do believe I have gone off on an unseemly tangent, have I not? But this is what happens when you listen to music whilst typing.

Well, that was a waste of a perfectly good paragraph, wasn't it? Frankly, writing a daily dose of drivel isn't as easy as it sounds. But I go on and the world goes round and round and round and round and round and life is a cabaret old chum and maybe this time all I care about is love although sometimes a day goes by and I don't care much about love although it is perfectly marvelous and all that jazz. Oh, I have spoken with too much candor and I'm starting to ebb so I'll just stop. Someone really must come shoot me and put me out of my misery.

Well (that is now three paragraphs which have started with the word "well" - I feel I am going to the well way too much, don't you?), I believe it's time to do that thing that we've all grown very fond of doing. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, it's time to click the unseemly button below so that we can continue these ramblings in all of their lengthy and unfocused glory. Clicketh noweth.

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- Friday, November 16, 2001 @ 09:17 AM PST

Thursday, November 15, 2001

Well, dear readers, here we are on a beautiful Thursday. Last night I went to the Gardenia to see my pals Marcy Heisler and Zina Goldrich, two very talented songwriters who sang a bunch of their very talented songs. They were aided and abetted by Scott Coulter (who sang and played the egg - not at the same time) and one of my regular bass players, Mr. Kenny Wild. It was a delightful evening - and the ladies sang their two most loved songs - Taylor, The Latte Boy and The Alto's Lament. I was there with the lovely and talented Lisa Richard, the lovely and talented Adryan Russ, and we were joined by the lovely and talented Babbie Green.

Someone forwarded me a certain amusing newsletter from a certain company. I was very appreciative of the lovely comments about me. They were so sweet and positive. There was one line that I thought I should respond to briefly: "We wouldn't have produced as many albums as we have with Bruce if we weren't thrilled with him." I am thrilled that they were thrilled, but the impression given here is that this was some company (the "we") that hired me off the street to produce "as many albums as we have with Bruce". I think a simple perusal of any of the press material or the multitude of articles done at the time the company began will reveal that this was not some company (the "we") that hired me off the street to produce "as many albums as we have with Bruce". Oops, you'll have to click on that Unseemly Button below to get the rest of the skinny and/or fat.

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- Thursday, November 15, 2001 @ 10:01 AM PST

Wednesday, November 14, 2001

Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, today we shall have a lovely announcement. But before I get to said announcement (and it's lovely) first I shall tell you that today, in addition to making a lovely announcement, I shall be getting a haircut. Isn't that exciting? This is one exciting blog, I must say. Oops.

I forgot, more paragraphs equals easier reading. In any case, I shall soon be shorn like Samson by the ever wonderful and brilliant Teddy, who has been "doing" my hair since 1971.

Mr. Mark Bakalor tells me that we have had good "traffic" here at haineshisway.com. This makes me very happy indeed, because a blog needs traffic, or is it the other way around? After all, what good is a blog or a website without traffic? The only thing that's good without traffic is the freeway, but here in Los Angeles, California, that simply will not be happening. What a boring blog this is today. I feel we need some pep, some vim, some vigor, some verve. I feel we need a lovely announcement. However, in order to read the lovely announcement, you will have to click that unseemly button below, because I have run out of space in the Main Entry Text thing.

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- Wednesday, November 14, 2001 @ 09:23 AM PST

Tuesday, November 13, 2001

Has anyone noticed that there are three "wells" in the title above? I don't know what happened. I typed one "well" and suddenly I couldn't stop, I just had to type two more "wells" - Well, well, well, is what I say.

Has anyone noticed that I just started a new paragraph? That is because Mr. Mark Bakalor wrote me yesterday and told me that it would be easier reading if I had more paragraphs.

Yes, here's another paragraph, because that Mr. Mark Bakalor said it must be so.

I don't know, I like longer paragraphs, don't you, dear readers? In any case, here it is, Tuesday. I'm about to go out and do some errands, but I thought I'd update my blog or journal or column or notes or whateveritisyoucallthisdamnthing. Oops, it's time to click that unseemly button below, you know, the one that says, "Read More". I'd like to rename that button Unseemly Button, wouldn't you? Click away.

Read more...

- Tuesday, November 13, 2001 @ 11:44 AM PST

Monday, November 12, 2001

Well, dear readers, we're off and running. Or should it be we're on and running? First off, I want to thank all of you who've, over the last few weeks, sent such lovely e-mails to both David Levy and myself.

I'm very happy to have this brand spanking new website devoted to my pal Guy Haines, and I'm glad he's allowing me to have a place to scribble my thoughts. And just what are my thoughts? Well, today, Monday, they are varied and many, so let's get to them, shall we?

But first, you must click the link below to see them. Don't ask me why, this is just Mr. Mark Bakalor's way of making things difficult. That is in his nature, and no matter how hard we may try, we may not change people's natures. Click away.

Read more...

- Monday, November 12, 2001 @ 10:48 AM PST

Friday, November 9, 2001

First, a message from Guy Haines:

When my hordes of eight fans said I should have my own website I thought, what a fine idea. After all, everyone needs their own website. Mark Bakalor came on board to design it and I feel he's done a fine job. But, then he said I had to contribute. Well, I simply can't contribute. I'm much too busy with tennis and my full time occupation of having no life.

I have asked my close personal friend, Mr. Bruce Kimmel, if he wouldn't mind writing a daily journal for the site. He was gracious enough to consent, although he did ask for a year's supply of Red Vines. I told him he could write about anything he wanted to as long as it wasn't about me. I want this to be the only performer website where there is absolutely nothing written about the performer. Isn't that unique?

Read more...

- Friday, November 9, 2001 @ 02:16 AM PST