Well, dear readers, it’s the last day of July, can you believe it? This month has flown by, like a gazelle eating a Kobe impossible burger which is, of course, impossible. Aren’t these months getting shorter and shorter? Certainly, I’m getting shorter and shorter but that’s another story. And tomorrow will be a little month I like to call August, and it is my fervent hope and prayer that August will be a month filled with health, wealth, happiness, creativity, and all things bright and beautiful. Earlier, I was watching a Broadway concert with the BBC Proms conducted by John Wilson, who reminds me so much of Todd Ellison when he was younger. I discovered Todd when he was playing keyboard for the revival of She Loves Me back in 1993. I instantly liked his energy and his self-assurance. So, I told him I was going to make him a star conductor and sometime in the next couple of years, I hired him to do an album and then he did many more for me. And he did become a star Broadway conductor. One of the nicest guys and John Wilson seems like a nice guy, too. Some of these conductors who’ve conducted major orchestras with Broadway and Hollywood material, seem so full of themselves that I can’t even watch them. John Wilson, on the other hand, just seems even keeled and like he’s having a really good time. There’s a big chorus and soloists like Sierra Boggess and Seth McFarlane. I will say that whoever was mixing the sound did quite a poor job of it. You know there’s something wrong when it cuts to the winds blowing away and you can’t hear what they’re playing. Oh, mixer, we need to hear them. That happens a lot. It’s on the Tube of You and free if you don’t mind commercials interrupting every song every three minutes.
Yesterday ended up being okay, but I had a really rough night and only got about four hours of non-consecutive sleep. We have to put the blame not on Mame, not on the night, not Rio, not my youth, but squarely where it belongs, McDonald’s and the grossest Big Mac ever. I want to vomit on the ground just thinking about it. It kept me up all night. It felt like it wouldn’t digest and that it was going to come up like lava from a volcano. Thankfully, it didn’t, but it was very annoying, and I probably took ten Pepcids along the way. I got up for good at one, answered some e-mails, and then, after I had my wits about me, I futzed and finessed. I spent over an hour on three pages that I could just not get to my liking. Finally, I got it right. The rest of the futzing and finessing of fourteen pages was also laborious but I got it done and it took about two-and-a-half hours to do.
Then I had a Cobb salad and no bread from Stanley’s and that was excellent. That’s the only food I had. Then I finally managed to write a couple of pages, then a couple more. I took a break, then went back to writing, ultimately doing ten pages, which was fine, and I have crossed 200 manuscript pages and 40,000 words. Novella my ASS.
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll do whatever needs doing, I’ll futz and finesse, I’ll check with the mail place to see if two important envelopes have arrived, I’ll eat, I’ll write new pages, and I’ll send Muse Margaret another ninety pages. Then at some point I can watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow will be more of the same and then I have a lunch meeting. Then the rest of the week will mostly be writing and dealing with a lot of other stuff. We’re still waiting to hear whether we have the rights for the musical we’ll be doing, and I may have to send another note about that. Getting rights for productions in Los Angeles is sometimes difficult and requires signoffs, which I feel is ridiculous. While North Hollywood is technically part of LA, it’s anything BUT LA. If I have to, I may have to personally contact one of the writers. I hope I don’t have to do that. Anyway, please send strong most excellent vibes and xylophones for the rights’ holders to say yes so we can announce the damn thing.
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, futz and finesse, check with the mail place, eat, write new pages, send ninety pages to Muse Margaret, then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: Studio cast recordings have been going on since the early 1950s. The first one I ever heard, I think, was Goddard Lieberson’s wonderful studio cast album of On Your Toes. What are your all-time favorite studio cast albums? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, bidding a fond farewell to July – July, we hardly knew ye.