Despite my total, years-long distaste for the Santa Clarita Valley, there are parts of Southern California I will remember fondly. Not enough to visit them again some time after I leave, but I think they kept me sane enough as this valley was slowly driving me crazy.
I remember the South Coast Plaza mall in Costa Mesa, the bridge between buildings. If you wanted to get to Borders or Paul Frank or McDonald's, you walked that covered bridge, that pause and peaceful silence before more purchases. There are conversations on that bridge between others as they pass by you, and you might be having your own while walking that bridge, but it's enough just to watch the cars pass under the bridge, to see all the other buildings in what looks like a consumer district. You look out as far as you can, and you can sense the ocean somewhere nearby, the ultimate peace in this state, which I never visited often, but the times I did remain memorable, such as that Santa Monica sunset near the pier after an awful advance screening of The Producers in 2005, and being on the pier itself, on that ferris wheel as the sun set further.
The most recent complete peace happened while Mom and Dad were in Las Vegas and Meridith and I eventually had 10 days at home. On one of those days, we took the bus to the nearby Ralphs, had lunch at McDonalds, and then walked to where the Italian sub shop was, which took us past Meridith's old high school, Valencia High. But before that, we came upon what is usually considered cookie-cutter housing, a development with row upon row of houses of varying design in the front, but generally with the same purpose: Porches. No matter how small the porches seemed on those houses, there was always room for a chair, a sense of relaxation, a thought that the world could stop right here and rest for a while. I loved those houses. I wanted the designs of a few of them for myself. I'm getting all of that in a different way with the apartment we're going to be moving into in Henderson, but then, I just needed to know that the world still cherished calm, and it did there. It was the kind of place where dog crap on the sidewalk doesn't seem so bothersome. Inconvenient if you step in it, but you only have to look and be careful. This was the kind of development that encourages you to slow down and look closer at the lives around you through the houses, the cars, the moments that tell you that life should not always be a race for something that could very well be unachievable after years of straining so hard for whatever it might be. That's not to say one should not take risks, but care should be taken in what's pursued, as it relates to you, as it might satisfy you.
While we walked closer to the Italian sub shop, I saw Valencia Ice Station, which contains two ice rinks. I had to go in because it had been years since I'd been there. I never skated there, but I remember going in with either Mom or Dad (or both) to pick up Meridith when she was there. I had to go in to see what it was like this time.
The large right-side rink had skaters on it, and the left-side rink had hockey players practicing. To stand there and watch the skaters and then go across the way and watch the hockey players, they're interesting contrasting microcosms. There we were, it was almost noon, and here they were, skating and hoping to win the next game. And that was enough. That's all that was needed in those lives at that moment.
All I needed in my life came when we went to the arcade on the second floor (We were in the second floor, watching the skaters and hockey players from long balcony seating) and Meridith and I found not only a working air hockey table, but also a Galaga arcade machine for myself. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, and after ducking into the restroom for necessary action, Meridith and I played air hockey on a surface that was much smoother than what we usually have at other arcades, such as the one at Ventura Harbor Village. It's not slick enough, and the thin puck sometimes just stops and drifts in the middle. This puck moved across that surface as if it instinctively knew the surface, that it would be the fastest puck ever made. It was a more intense game than I'd had in years, and every time Meridith scored every goal to an eventual win, a cluster of multi-colored lights on the top would spin around. She liked that a lot.
When I played the Galaga machine, I played it as intensely as I did the one at Ventura Harbor Village, weaving and ducking as if the aliens were firing directly at me. When I get into that game, I'm gone. I am that ship, banging on the buttons to fire fast and often. I've gotten as far as level 12, but no further. I aim to change that when I find another Galaga machine somewhere in Las Vegas, possibly even at the Pinball Hall of Fame, the next time I go, this time with Lisa, who's game for it, since it'll be the first time in years she's played pinball, and her favorite video games are all arcade machines there, such as Mario Bros. and Centipede. See? I've finally figured out the secret to a happy life: My beloved pinball games and the most beautiful woman in the world. I wouldn't be surprised if all this makes me live to 150 years old. And I'd be happy with that, because it means more time with her.
I don't think I ever got used to Southern California because it never felt like it offered constant, wide-ranging pleasures. I need that in my life. That's how I live. I don't believe errands should feel like errands. There should be fun in everything. And I never felt that here, not with grim-looking freeways, not with some supermarkets lit so dimly as if to hide the prices inevitably encountered. I feel that constant pleasure in Vegas, and it's where I belong now. I've always wanted to live somewhere that thrives on hedonism. This is it. But at least I found pieces of it here, enough to help during long stretches of days when nothing particularly interesting happened. Sure, there are books, and I had those, but that's not always enough for life. So at least there was all this here. And in some way, it helped me figure out who I finally wanted to be and what would make me happiest. That's fine, but just visit here if you'd like. Never live here.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
When You Meet a Great Man, You Know It Immediately
Great experiences are fairly uncommon in the Santa Clarita Valley. The ones that you do have are either only one-day affairs, such as the Food Truck Festival that celebrated the remodel of Auto Row (where all the car dealerships are), or you have to go out of the valley to find them, which is usually always the case. And then you find someone here who lives here, but is not affected by the day-to-day activity of this valley because he's doing so much else for his career that he doesn't have time for the piddling little instances of plastic living prevalent here.
Sy Richardson is that man, a man who loves acting such a great deal that he'll go anywhere to find it. Movies, television, commercials, stage, he's done it all and continues to do it. I first noticed him as the ever-suspicious coroner on Pushing Daisies and contacted him on Facebook to express my highest compliments on his role, and also how much I still miss the show. This led to an occasional correspondence on the site, with Richardson suggesting that we meet some time. But on what day? And for what reason behind it? Not that I didn't want to, but Richardson is a busy man (His most recent appearance is on a Denny's commercial that has just begun airing on TV), and rightly so because he's one of those actors, who, when you see him in anything, you know you can trust that your time will be well spent, that you will be curious about the circumstances of his characters.
The time to meet came on Friday, July 1, the day Larry Crowne opened in theaters. Richardson had a small part in it as one of Crowne's (co-writer/director/star Tom Hanks) co-workers at UMart, the big box store that's not only a commentary on the machinations of corporate America, but also of the economy as it stands now. He was going to see the movie at Edwards Valencia 12 at 5 p.m., and looked forward to meeting me.
I have had some great experiences in this valley, but they didn't come very often. In nearly eight years, they've been spread widely apart, such as Ninja supplanting Viper as my favorite rollercoaster at Six Flags Magic Mountain, or discovering those few books at the Valencia library (formerly of the County of Los Angeles, and one that I will not revisit in its new form) that I needed to hold close to me for the rest of my life, or finding not only a decent air hockey table for my sister and I to play on at the arcade at Valencia Ice Station, but also a Galaga arcade machine, my favorite video game. I place the experience of meeting Sy Richardson at the top of that list.
On Facebook, on that Friday morning, he told me he'd be outside the theater at 4:30 p.m. This was huge for me. I was going to meet the one man who was just as much an important part of Pushing Daisies as Lee Pace, Anna Friel, Chi McBride, Kristen Chenoweth, Swoosie Kurtz, Ellen Greene, and especially creator Bryan Fuller. I was hoping for stories related to the filming of Pushing Daisies. I was looking for him to autograph my season 1 and season 2 DVD sets. My season 1 DVD set was studded with autographs from when I went to a Paley Center event at the Cinerama Dome in April 2009 that was screening the final three episodes before they aired on ABC. Barry Sonnenfeld, executive producer and director of the first two episodes, was there. Writers were there. Other actors were there, such as Gina Torres, who played Emerson Cod's dog-trainer girlfriend. Most importantly, Bryan Fuller was there, and when he came onto the stage, I immediately stood up to applaud and inspired the standing ovation that quickly followed. He deserved it for the vision and the magical life he brought to television. But on that Friday morning, as I looked at those autographs from that event, I saw that that DVD set would not be complete without Richardson's autograph. There he was, always being handed a bit of cash to keep quiet about what Ned, Chuck and Emerson were doing in their investigations, and always following up the explanations by them with a suspicious, "Mmm-HMMmmmm." The one thing to understand about a Bryan Fuller show is that even the characters who don't appear as often as the leads are just as important. Fuller sees to that, casting actors who are distinctive in many ways. And Richardson was one of those esteemed actors.
Comes a little before 4:30 p.m., and Mom and Dad drop me off at the curb, next to the sidewalk that leads directly to the theater, so I don't have to cross the street to get there. I walk up a few steps, then to the theater, passing the circular concrete fountain that's nearby, looking for Sy. He spots me first, waving at me from where he's sitting, at a table with one of the location's standard umbrellas opened up, this being summer and all. I walk over, shake hands with him, and express my gratitude not only at meeting at him, but also of the honor that it is to do so. His wife is there with him, and I immediately think of Lisa, because his wife looks like she's not only supported him with good cheer all these years, but has enjoyed the experience as well. And in fact, before I go to get my ticket for Larry Crowne, I talk briefly about how wonderful Pushing Daisies was just for me to watch, and his wife says that it was a wonderful experience.
After I get my ticket, I sit down near Sy and we talk for a few minutes about this and that, about how long I've lived in this valley, about What If They Lived?, the book I co-wrote with Phil Hall. It's getting a little uncomfortable in the heat, so Sy decides that it's time to head in. And we do, into welcome air-conditioning, but before we head to the auditorium where Larry Crowne is showing, we stop in line at the concession stand. A small bag of popcorn for Sy's wife, and a large raspberry iced tea that she and Sy share during the waiting for the movie to start and during the movie.
While in line, Sy asks me if I write any film scripts. I say no, but mention that Lisa has been at work on a script for a long time, about her experiences living in the Kings Point senior community with her mother, as well as the real estate agents she met when they eventually ended up at the Southampton condo in Fort Lauderdale. "A comedy of errors," as she described to me, but I'm not trying to pitch it to Sy. I'm not one of those people, particularly since I gave up film reviewing last year. I don't like the cycle of the year, that the films put out for awards contention are jammed together in the final three months, rather than being spread out through the year so there's more to consider seeing. I don't like how it eventually felt like I was just running in the same circles over and over. I wanted something different for my life, and I found it in writing that book, finding Lisa, and coming up with more ideas for my own books, as well as a few plays, and a possible novel. I'm much happier like this.
Sy is one of those great men in that you can't quite tell if he's listening, but he is. He takes in everything around him with equanimity. And as he, his wife, and I walk to our auditorium, he looks at the posters of what's coming to theaters. What is he thinking about? Are these movies he may want to see when they come out? Is he considering the characters on each poster, wondering if he could have been in a film like that? You never quite know with Sy, but that's what makes him a lot of fun to spend time with. Because he doesn't reveal everything right away. If you want to know, you have to make the time, if he's willing to give the time, as I was so fortunate enough to get.
As we reach the auditorium, Sy tells me that he had no idea how big Tom Hanks actually was. He not only does all this work as an actor, writer and director, but Sy also says that he attends all the SAG (Screen Actors Guild) meetings and participates in the events of other organizations in any way he can to help fellow actors. I tell Sy that the breadth of his fame was apparent with the back-to-back Oscars he received for Philadelphia (1993) and Forrest Gump (1994), but I had no idea how good he was to other actors, though it could be seen when he made a surprise appearance on Letterman when Julia Roberts was on, having already been on himself a night or two before. And the promotions he did on various other shows, including one on a Spanish news station here, indicated how good-natured he still is after all these years.
We reach the auditorium and as we begin to climb up the steps to the end of one row about four to five rows down from the top, he tells me that he just saw his Denny's commercial today. I ask him what he thought, and he says he liked it. I sit on the end, next to the steps, Sy sits next to me, and his wife sits next to him. A cupholder armrest goes down between them for the raspberry iced tea, and his wife has the popcorn. Sy doesn't partake in that.
On the screen, there's interviews and a clip package going on for Rizzoli & Isles, and Sy tells me that that's one of his favorite shows. I show him the cloth bag I brought with me, and tell him that I've got the DVD sets for him to sign, and in his own way, without moving much, I understand that he'll sign them later. Here, in the auditorium, it's not the time. As a commercial for some new technological advancement in phones plays, he asks me if I'm planning to write any other books and I tell him about the three presidential-related books I'm doing research on. He returns the volley with news that he's up for a film to star Melissa Leo, about a priest who was a rapist and a murderer in Boston. He would play the Cardinal of Boston, who wasn't such an upstanding man either. I tell him it sounds like a great role for him since it gives him a lot to chew on, and he'll undoubtedly bring the same great skill to it as he has to his many other roles. He also tells me that he's going to Louisiana next week to begin work on a stage production of Inherit the Wind. Sy goes wherever the work takes him. He is the true definition of a working actor. The money is most welcome, but you can also tell in him that he does it because he loves all of it.
The screen goes wider and the trailers begin. Trailer after trailer after trailer. Soon, the green MPAA "Approved Audiences" thing for the next trailer, the 8th trailer, appears, and I lean over to say and ask, "You did make a movie with Tom Hanks, right?" He laughs.
Larry Crowne finally begins, and Tom Hanks' directorial style is most interesting. He races right through the opening credits, interspersing them with clips of Larry hard at work at UMart, dedicated, enthusiastic. Sy is seen in one brief scene, giving Larry a price on a camera, and that's it. That's his only scene. I look over at Sy, and there's no visible disappointment. Chances are he might have experienced this before, and Hanks' reason seems to be that he wants to move along right to Larry's firing from UMart, to begin the purpose for this movie. He's not one of those directors who enjoys extraneous scenes, at least not until later, and then it's for the atmosphere of the film, to keep up the feeling that has been established, hence George Takei getting some screen time as the economics professor at the community college. Sy seems to agree with me after we see what Hanks has done that he wanted to move the story along. It's a 99-minute running time, after all.
There's many good laughs, and then it's over. Then Sy points something out to me that shows the kind of man Hanks is in Hollywood. We see his name at the beginning of the end credits, and he tells me that there's names of other actors in the movie who didn't even appear, who were part of other UMart scenes, and Hanks still credited them. Hanks evidently appreciates those who worked hard for him.
Sy's wife gets up during the end credits to wait outside the theater for us. Being an actor, Sy is a natural credits-watcher, especially on this movie, but I am as well, from not only my years of reviewing movies, but also from being into them since I was 7. During the end credits, Sy tells me how impressed he was with what he thought was Hanks' first film as a director. I tell him that Hanks' first one was That Thing You Do! from 1996, no doubt parlaying his immense fame into getting that opportunity. He tells me that he'll have to see it some time. The credits end, and I see the old Universal Studios theme park logo on the screen, which I didn't think anyone used anymore. Well, only Hanks. Other directors don't have any reason to use it, but I like that Hanks did, and it shows he has a sense of history about Hollywood.
On the way out of the auditorium, I say to Sy that maybe he'll appear in the deleted scenes on the DVD. He explains to me that there was a whole subplot in UMart in which it was thought that his character was going to be the one to let go, and there was a going-away party for him in response, but then it turns out that Larry was the one to be fired. As he continues telling me this as we walk out of the auditorium, we go the wrong way, not toward the front of the movie theater, then turn around and walk to where his wife is waiting. I have to pee really bad, but I'm not interrupting the rhythm of this day. I will gladly follow Sy wherever he goes.
As we pass the posters we saw on the way in, Sy tells that he has worked with many, many directors, but still not Spielberg, although he almost did once. He was up for the role in Jurassic Park that Samuel L. Jackson played, but they chose Jackson because, as is known even if you don't pay much attention to what goes on in Hollywood, it's all about money, what can bring in the big cash from ticket sales. I don't mind that I hadn't heard anything about his experiences on Pushing Daisies. I remember Meridith saying that I should get a picture with him on my cell phone camera, but it's not that kind of tete-a-tete. With Sy, you just go wherever the conversation goes, and that's the best way for it.
Outside of the theater, we go back to the table we were at before the movie, only now it's occupied by a mother and a kid, waiting for the husband/father and the other kid to bring back hot dogs. Sy asks if we can have the other half of the table just for a minute, and she agrees. I pull out the DVD sets, indicate to Sy where to sign (especially on the front of the season 1 cover, along with all the other autographs there, and on the front of the season 2 cover, where his signature will be the only one), and I show his wife the sets as well, explaining the Paley Center event that I had been to. She tells me that it was such a pleasure to work with Bryan Fuller.
Everything signed, I put the season 2 booklet away in the case, close it up, and put the DVD sets back in my bag. Sy thanks the woman, and just as we walk away, the husband/father and other kid return with the hot dogs. What timing! I express my lamentation to Sy that the industry doesn't seem to give much opportunity to Fuller these days, what with his workplace sitcom script about a no-kill animal shelter and an hour-show adaptation of Sellevision by Augusten Burroughs not going through. I mention that it's good Fuller has that furniture store going with his partner in West Hollywood, but television needs him back badly. Sy tells me that he's at work with Kristen Bell on what I think is that long-announced new version of The Munsters. After I get home, I find that Bell is now on a Showtime series called House of Lies. How much longer are Fuller fans like me going to have to wait for him to return to where he so desperately belongs?
Sy tells me that it was nice to meet me, and I indicate the same, also expressing my appreciation to his wife about meeting her as well, "the inspiration behind the man," as I put it. I wish Sy the greatest of luck with Inherit the Wind in Louisiana, we shake hands again, I shake hands with his wife and they're off to wherever the rest of the day takes them.
I call Mom and Dad to find out where they are. They're at Pavilions, in the shopping center that's in front of our old apartment complex. Walk on over! I've still got to go badly, and so I begin my way back to what I knew the first year we were here, marveling at how what I remember hasn't changed all that much. I see it sometimes anyway when we drive by, but not this close. I'm changed though. I've reached the pinnacle of the time in this valley by meeting Sy, and it's with that that I can say my time in this valley has ended. There is nothing else that can top it. Now I can move to Las Vegas, satisfied that I've done everything I could possibly do in this valley, and begin a major new life with Lisa.
Sy Richardson is that man, a man who loves acting such a great deal that he'll go anywhere to find it. Movies, television, commercials, stage, he's done it all and continues to do it. I first noticed him as the ever-suspicious coroner on Pushing Daisies and contacted him on Facebook to express my highest compliments on his role, and also how much I still miss the show. This led to an occasional correspondence on the site, with Richardson suggesting that we meet some time. But on what day? And for what reason behind it? Not that I didn't want to, but Richardson is a busy man (His most recent appearance is on a Denny's commercial that has just begun airing on TV), and rightly so because he's one of those actors, who, when you see him in anything, you know you can trust that your time will be well spent, that you will be curious about the circumstances of his characters.
The time to meet came on Friday, July 1, the day Larry Crowne opened in theaters. Richardson had a small part in it as one of Crowne's (co-writer/director/star Tom Hanks) co-workers at UMart, the big box store that's not only a commentary on the machinations of corporate America, but also of the economy as it stands now. He was going to see the movie at Edwards Valencia 12 at 5 p.m., and looked forward to meeting me.
I have had some great experiences in this valley, but they didn't come very often. In nearly eight years, they've been spread widely apart, such as Ninja supplanting Viper as my favorite rollercoaster at Six Flags Magic Mountain, or discovering those few books at the Valencia library (formerly of the County of Los Angeles, and one that I will not revisit in its new form) that I needed to hold close to me for the rest of my life, or finding not only a decent air hockey table for my sister and I to play on at the arcade at Valencia Ice Station, but also a Galaga arcade machine, my favorite video game. I place the experience of meeting Sy Richardson at the top of that list.
On Facebook, on that Friday morning, he told me he'd be outside the theater at 4:30 p.m. This was huge for me. I was going to meet the one man who was just as much an important part of Pushing Daisies as Lee Pace, Anna Friel, Chi McBride, Kristen Chenoweth, Swoosie Kurtz, Ellen Greene, and especially creator Bryan Fuller. I was hoping for stories related to the filming of Pushing Daisies. I was looking for him to autograph my season 1 and season 2 DVD sets. My season 1 DVD set was studded with autographs from when I went to a Paley Center event at the Cinerama Dome in April 2009 that was screening the final three episodes before they aired on ABC. Barry Sonnenfeld, executive producer and director of the first two episodes, was there. Writers were there. Other actors were there, such as Gina Torres, who played Emerson Cod's dog-trainer girlfriend. Most importantly, Bryan Fuller was there, and when he came onto the stage, I immediately stood up to applaud and inspired the standing ovation that quickly followed. He deserved it for the vision and the magical life he brought to television. But on that Friday morning, as I looked at those autographs from that event, I saw that that DVD set would not be complete without Richardson's autograph. There he was, always being handed a bit of cash to keep quiet about what Ned, Chuck and Emerson were doing in their investigations, and always following up the explanations by them with a suspicious, "Mmm-HMMmmmm." The one thing to understand about a Bryan Fuller show is that even the characters who don't appear as often as the leads are just as important. Fuller sees to that, casting actors who are distinctive in many ways. And Richardson was one of those esteemed actors.
Comes a little before 4:30 p.m., and Mom and Dad drop me off at the curb, next to the sidewalk that leads directly to the theater, so I don't have to cross the street to get there. I walk up a few steps, then to the theater, passing the circular concrete fountain that's nearby, looking for Sy. He spots me first, waving at me from where he's sitting, at a table with one of the location's standard umbrellas opened up, this being summer and all. I walk over, shake hands with him, and express my gratitude not only at meeting at him, but also of the honor that it is to do so. His wife is there with him, and I immediately think of Lisa, because his wife looks like she's not only supported him with good cheer all these years, but has enjoyed the experience as well. And in fact, before I go to get my ticket for Larry Crowne, I talk briefly about how wonderful Pushing Daisies was just for me to watch, and his wife says that it was a wonderful experience.
After I get my ticket, I sit down near Sy and we talk for a few minutes about this and that, about how long I've lived in this valley, about What If They Lived?, the book I co-wrote with Phil Hall. It's getting a little uncomfortable in the heat, so Sy decides that it's time to head in. And we do, into welcome air-conditioning, but before we head to the auditorium where Larry Crowne is showing, we stop in line at the concession stand. A small bag of popcorn for Sy's wife, and a large raspberry iced tea that she and Sy share during the waiting for the movie to start and during the movie.
While in line, Sy asks me if I write any film scripts. I say no, but mention that Lisa has been at work on a script for a long time, about her experiences living in the Kings Point senior community with her mother, as well as the real estate agents she met when they eventually ended up at the Southampton condo in Fort Lauderdale. "A comedy of errors," as she described to me, but I'm not trying to pitch it to Sy. I'm not one of those people, particularly since I gave up film reviewing last year. I don't like the cycle of the year, that the films put out for awards contention are jammed together in the final three months, rather than being spread out through the year so there's more to consider seeing. I don't like how it eventually felt like I was just running in the same circles over and over. I wanted something different for my life, and I found it in writing that book, finding Lisa, and coming up with more ideas for my own books, as well as a few plays, and a possible novel. I'm much happier like this.
Sy is one of those great men in that you can't quite tell if he's listening, but he is. He takes in everything around him with equanimity. And as he, his wife, and I walk to our auditorium, he looks at the posters of what's coming to theaters. What is he thinking about? Are these movies he may want to see when they come out? Is he considering the characters on each poster, wondering if he could have been in a film like that? You never quite know with Sy, but that's what makes him a lot of fun to spend time with. Because he doesn't reveal everything right away. If you want to know, you have to make the time, if he's willing to give the time, as I was so fortunate enough to get.
As we reach the auditorium, Sy tells me that he had no idea how big Tom Hanks actually was. He not only does all this work as an actor, writer and director, but Sy also says that he attends all the SAG (Screen Actors Guild) meetings and participates in the events of other organizations in any way he can to help fellow actors. I tell Sy that the breadth of his fame was apparent with the back-to-back Oscars he received for Philadelphia (1993) and Forrest Gump (1994), but I had no idea how good he was to other actors, though it could be seen when he made a surprise appearance on Letterman when Julia Roberts was on, having already been on himself a night or two before. And the promotions he did on various other shows, including one on a Spanish news station here, indicated how good-natured he still is after all these years.
We reach the auditorium and as we begin to climb up the steps to the end of one row about four to five rows down from the top, he tells me that he just saw his Denny's commercial today. I ask him what he thought, and he says he liked it. I sit on the end, next to the steps, Sy sits next to me, and his wife sits next to him. A cupholder armrest goes down between them for the raspberry iced tea, and his wife has the popcorn. Sy doesn't partake in that.
On the screen, there's interviews and a clip package going on for Rizzoli & Isles, and Sy tells me that that's one of his favorite shows. I show him the cloth bag I brought with me, and tell him that I've got the DVD sets for him to sign, and in his own way, without moving much, I understand that he'll sign them later. Here, in the auditorium, it's not the time. As a commercial for some new technological advancement in phones plays, he asks me if I'm planning to write any other books and I tell him about the three presidential-related books I'm doing research on. He returns the volley with news that he's up for a film to star Melissa Leo, about a priest who was a rapist and a murderer in Boston. He would play the Cardinal of Boston, who wasn't such an upstanding man either. I tell him it sounds like a great role for him since it gives him a lot to chew on, and he'll undoubtedly bring the same great skill to it as he has to his many other roles. He also tells me that he's going to Louisiana next week to begin work on a stage production of Inherit the Wind. Sy goes wherever the work takes him. He is the true definition of a working actor. The money is most welcome, but you can also tell in him that he does it because he loves all of it.
The screen goes wider and the trailers begin. Trailer after trailer after trailer. Soon, the green MPAA "Approved Audiences" thing for the next trailer, the 8th trailer, appears, and I lean over to say and ask, "You did make a movie with Tom Hanks, right?" He laughs.
Larry Crowne finally begins, and Tom Hanks' directorial style is most interesting. He races right through the opening credits, interspersing them with clips of Larry hard at work at UMart, dedicated, enthusiastic. Sy is seen in one brief scene, giving Larry a price on a camera, and that's it. That's his only scene. I look over at Sy, and there's no visible disappointment. Chances are he might have experienced this before, and Hanks' reason seems to be that he wants to move along right to Larry's firing from UMart, to begin the purpose for this movie. He's not one of those directors who enjoys extraneous scenes, at least not until later, and then it's for the atmosphere of the film, to keep up the feeling that has been established, hence George Takei getting some screen time as the economics professor at the community college. Sy seems to agree with me after we see what Hanks has done that he wanted to move the story along. It's a 99-minute running time, after all.
There's many good laughs, and then it's over. Then Sy points something out to me that shows the kind of man Hanks is in Hollywood. We see his name at the beginning of the end credits, and he tells me that there's names of other actors in the movie who didn't even appear, who were part of other UMart scenes, and Hanks still credited them. Hanks evidently appreciates those who worked hard for him.
Sy's wife gets up during the end credits to wait outside the theater for us. Being an actor, Sy is a natural credits-watcher, especially on this movie, but I am as well, from not only my years of reviewing movies, but also from being into them since I was 7. During the end credits, Sy tells me how impressed he was with what he thought was Hanks' first film as a director. I tell him that Hanks' first one was That Thing You Do! from 1996, no doubt parlaying his immense fame into getting that opportunity. He tells me that he'll have to see it some time. The credits end, and I see the old Universal Studios theme park logo on the screen, which I didn't think anyone used anymore. Well, only Hanks. Other directors don't have any reason to use it, but I like that Hanks did, and it shows he has a sense of history about Hollywood.
On the way out of the auditorium, I say to Sy that maybe he'll appear in the deleted scenes on the DVD. He explains to me that there was a whole subplot in UMart in which it was thought that his character was going to be the one to let go, and there was a going-away party for him in response, but then it turns out that Larry was the one to be fired. As he continues telling me this as we walk out of the auditorium, we go the wrong way, not toward the front of the movie theater, then turn around and walk to where his wife is waiting. I have to pee really bad, but I'm not interrupting the rhythm of this day. I will gladly follow Sy wherever he goes.
As we pass the posters we saw on the way in, Sy tells that he has worked with many, many directors, but still not Spielberg, although he almost did once. He was up for the role in Jurassic Park that Samuel L. Jackson played, but they chose Jackson because, as is known even if you don't pay much attention to what goes on in Hollywood, it's all about money, what can bring in the big cash from ticket sales. I don't mind that I hadn't heard anything about his experiences on Pushing Daisies. I remember Meridith saying that I should get a picture with him on my cell phone camera, but it's not that kind of tete-a-tete. With Sy, you just go wherever the conversation goes, and that's the best way for it.
Outside of the theater, we go back to the table we were at before the movie, only now it's occupied by a mother and a kid, waiting for the husband/father and the other kid to bring back hot dogs. Sy asks if we can have the other half of the table just for a minute, and she agrees. I pull out the DVD sets, indicate to Sy where to sign (especially on the front of the season 1 cover, along with all the other autographs there, and on the front of the season 2 cover, where his signature will be the only one), and I show his wife the sets as well, explaining the Paley Center event that I had been to. She tells me that it was such a pleasure to work with Bryan Fuller.
Everything signed, I put the season 2 booklet away in the case, close it up, and put the DVD sets back in my bag. Sy thanks the woman, and just as we walk away, the husband/father and other kid return with the hot dogs. What timing! I express my lamentation to Sy that the industry doesn't seem to give much opportunity to Fuller these days, what with his workplace sitcom script about a no-kill animal shelter and an hour-show adaptation of Sellevision by Augusten Burroughs not going through. I mention that it's good Fuller has that furniture store going with his partner in West Hollywood, but television needs him back badly. Sy tells me that he's at work with Kristen Bell on what I think is that long-announced new version of The Munsters. After I get home, I find that Bell is now on a Showtime series called House of Lies. How much longer are Fuller fans like me going to have to wait for him to return to where he so desperately belongs?
Sy tells me that it was nice to meet me, and I indicate the same, also expressing my appreciation to his wife about meeting her as well, "the inspiration behind the man," as I put it. I wish Sy the greatest of luck with Inherit the Wind in Louisiana, we shake hands again, I shake hands with his wife and they're off to wherever the rest of the day takes them.
I call Mom and Dad to find out where they are. They're at Pavilions, in the shopping center that's in front of our old apartment complex. Walk on over! I've still got to go badly, and so I begin my way back to what I knew the first year we were here, marveling at how what I remember hasn't changed all that much. I see it sometimes anyway when we drive by, but not this close. I'm changed though. I've reached the pinnacle of the time in this valley by meeting Sy, and it's with that that I can say my time in this valley has ended. There is nothing else that can top it. Now I can move to Las Vegas, satisfied that I've done everything I could possibly do in this valley, and begin a major new life with Lisa.
Friday, July 1, 2011
One of the Biggest Days I'll Have in This Valley
Today. 5:00 p.m. Larry Crowne at Edwards Valencia 12. It's one of the movies I knew I wanted to see during the summer, and planned to, but I thought I might see it over the weekend or a little later. Not a chance.
An actor named Sy Richardson is going to the same showing. You might know Sy. Remember the Super Bowl FedEx commercial with the huge frickin' pigeons flapping about outside, and crashing a car through that high-rise office window? He played the boss in that one.
Better yet, remember "Pushing Daisies" and the ever-quietly-suspicious coroner? That was him! And that was how I met him on Facebook.
I found his profile and sent him a message conveying my highest compliments of his role on that show I still love and still miss so dearly. He is one of the genuine decent actors living here in the Santa Clarita Valley. He's not fake, phony, or hollow. And a few months before Larry Crowne came out (he has a small role as one of the employees at the big box store, thereby having the distinction of having been directed by Tom Hanks), he suggested the notion that I finally meet him when it comes time. Well, today's the day. And I'm bringing my season 1 and season 2 "Pushing Daisies" DVD sets for him to autograph (The season 1 set is studded with autographs from Chi McBride, Barry Sonnenfeld, many of the writers from "Pushing Daisies", the woman who played Gina, Emerson Cod's dog-trainer girlfriend, and a few others, all gotten at the Paley Center event which screened the final three episodes before they aired). I'll let you know how it went. I'm really excited about this!
An actor named Sy Richardson is going to the same showing. You might know Sy. Remember the Super Bowl FedEx commercial with the huge frickin' pigeons flapping about outside, and crashing a car through that high-rise office window? He played the boss in that one.
Better yet, remember "Pushing Daisies" and the ever-quietly-suspicious coroner? That was him! And that was how I met him on Facebook.
I found his profile and sent him a message conveying my highest compliments of his role on that show I still love and still miss so dearly. He is one of the genuine decent actors living here in the Santa Clarita Valley. He's not fake, phony, or hollow. And a few months before Larry Crowne came out (he has a small role as one of the employees at the big box store, thereby having the distinction of having been directed by Tom Hanks), he suggested the notion that I finally meet him when it comes time. Well, today's the day. And I'm bringing my season 1 and season 2 "Pushing Daisies" DVD sets for him to autograph (The season 1 set is studded with autographs from Chi McBride, Barry Sonnenfeld, many of the writers from "Pushing Daisies", the woman who played Gina, Emerson Cod's dog-trainer girlfriend, and a few others, all gotten at the Paley Center event which screened the final three episodes before they aired). I'll let you know how it went. I'm really excited about this!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
I'm Returning
It's taken me a few days to get back to a routine that now includes being in love. I've been floating on landscapes I'd never seen before in my life. Did you know that some clouds aren't just air and atmosphere? You can actually jump on them, and they get softer with every jump.
I've spent the past few days re-learning how to go out, and I miss her every time, but yesterday was easier than the day before. The day before, I couldn't gauge when we would be home, and we were out all day, and I began to get testy in Wal-Mart because I really missed her. Then yesterday, we became Metro PCS customers, the same phone she has, so it's much easier than the Verizon customers we used to be (We've had so many fights with Verizon over the years, and when she mentioned Metro PCS, with unlimited plans and no annual contract, we looked into it), because then we would be charged. So now that I have text messaging, too, I will still miss her when I'm out during the day, but it won't feel like torture when the day gets later and later. I lasted longer yesterday because I had called her before my family and I left for Burbank for the day, and I only began to get slightly testy at CarMax towards 8 p.m.
This new and oh-so-wonderful experience has affected my family in many ways. They're all incredibly happy for me, but for my mom, it's especially important because she wants to see me do well, to be the man she knows that I have been as I grew up, the one who when he cares, he cares so deeply. The one who has endless patience when his mother and sister have to pop into a restroom while we're out (It turns out that all these years have been excellent training for me). The one who makes sure others are taken care of before he gets to his own needs.
Meridith is excited, because she has a potential new sister. When she was young, she hocked Mom for another kid. "Maybe it'll be a girl this time," she always said. But she was also greatly affected by this, worried that she would lose me. She won't. I'm always available for her, no matter where I am, and the wonderful girl who has taken my entire heart agrees.
I've got books to write, a full-time job to seek, all the things that were in my life before, but now I've also got her, the one I want to do everything for. Every writer needs a muse, but you know what else? She's also a writer! Heaven is indeed a place on Earth.
So I'm here again, and I'll be writing like I always did, whenever an idea pops up. But most importantly, I'm also the happiest I've ever been!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Dancing on Clouds Previously Unimagined
The Writer Currently Known as Rory can't come to the blog right now. He's in love (and hopes to stay that way), but plans to come down soon to write whatever comes to mind (as usual), and then float back up into love.
Please leave a message at the sound of Barbra Streisand singing "Somewhere" (His potential One is a huge fan, just like he is). If it's urgent, sorry, you're out of luck.
"Some daaaayyyyyyy.....somewherreeeee....we'll find a new way of living...."
Please leave a message at the sound of Barbra Streisand singing "Somewhere" (His potential One is a huge fan, just like he is). If it's urgent, sorry, you're out of luck.
"Some daaaayyyyyyy.....somewherreeeee....we'll find a new way of living...."
Saturday, June 18, 2011
This Girl
This girl plays Keno and video poker at Aliante in North Las Vegas. I've never been interested in poker.
She told me that her grandmother taught her to play when she was 4.
I'm interested.
This girl was born in North Miami. I was born in Plantation. We each spent a very short amount of time in our birth cities as infants. As native Floridians, we connected immediately.
This girl is obsessed with the Casey Anthony murder trial, from a psychological point of view. What she explained to me about the personality of Anthony was more insightful than anything you could get off of Headline News, CNN, and any other talking heads that are just there for the sensationalism rather than real insight.
This girl is a huge Barbra Streisand fan, as I am. I told her that when Barbra Streisand finally directs another film (It's been too long since The Mirror Has Two Faces), I'm waiting like the Star Wars and Harry Potter fans have waited, sleeping bags and all. She said, "My kind of guy....I'll wait with you."
We flirted a little last night online, and my god, I have never felt breathless from flirting until now. I never imagined you could.
This girl is a voracious reader, like I am, but I love the difference between us. I can go between many books. It's like with Medium Raw. I stopped at page 253 at Target the other day, and I'll finish it when we go back to Target. In the meantime, I finished reading On the Boulevard: The Best of John L. Smith yesterday, and also got three-quarters of the way through The Inner Circle by Brad Meltzer. On a stack on the right-side arm of the couch is The Simpsons: An Uncensored, Unauthorized History by John Ortved, Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain, and Harold: The Boy Who Became Mark Twain by Hal Holbrook, the three books I intend to read next.
She doesn't like to start another book until she's finished what she's reading. She's nearly through Her Name is Barbra, a biography of Barbra Streisand by Randall Riese. I could see haunting used bookstores with her.
She's so much fun. We get into a rhythm in our conversations that feels like we've always known each other.
As I've said before, I'm not in 6th grade anymore. I don't ask out girls I barely know but like right away to the December Dance with me (Annie Librach, and I had asked her in September, not even a few weeks after school started. She turned me down on the same day). I'm a lot more patient now, and I want this to work however it might work.
We've seen photos of each other, and we still have to meet in person (Which will come after my family and I move to Las Vegas), though we agree that our strong intellectual connection will make that easier. But, honestly, I think I'm falling in love with this girl.
She told me that her grandmother taught her to play when she was 4.
I'm interested.
This girl was born in North Miami. I was born in Plantation. We each spent a very short amount of time in our birth cities as infants. As native Floridians, we connected immediately.
This girl is obsessed with the Casey Anthony murder trial, from a psychological point of view. What she explained to me about the personality of Anthony was more insightful than anything you could get off of Headline News, CNN, and any other talking heads that are just there for the sensationalism rather than real insight.
This girl is a huge Barbra Streisand fan, as I am. I told her that when Barbra Streisand finally directs another film (It's been too long since The Mirror Has Two Faces), I'm waiting like the Star Wars and Harry Potter fans have waited, sleeping bags and all. She said, "My kind of guy....I'll wait with you."
We flirted a little last night online, and my god, I have never felt breathless from flirting until now. I never imagined you could.
This girl is a voracious reader, like I am, but I love the difference between us. I can go between many books. It's like with Medium Raw. I stopped at page 253 at Target the other day, and I'll finish it when we go back to Target. In the meantime, I finished reading On the Boulevard: The Best of John L. Smith yesterday, and also got three-quarters of the way through The Inner Circle by Brad Meltzer. On a stack on the right-side arm of the couch is The Simpsons: An Uncensored, Unauthorized History by John Ortved, Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain, and Harold: The Boy Who Became Mark Twain by Hal Holbrook, the three books I intend to read next.
She doesn't like to start another book until she's finished what she's reading. She's nearly through Her Name is Barbra, a biography of Barbra Streisand by Randall Riese. I could see haunting used bookstores with her.
She's so much fun. We get into a rhythm in our conversations that feels like we've always known each other.
As I've said before, I'm not in 6th grade anymore. I don't ask out girls I barely know but like right away to the December Dance with me (Annie Librach, and I had asked her in September, not even a few weeks after school started. She turned me down on the same day). I'm a lot more patient now, and I want this to work however it might work.
We've seen photos of each other, and we still have to meet in person (Which will come after my family and I move to Las Vegas), though we agree that our strong intellectual connection will make that easier. But, honestly, I think I'm falling in love with this girl.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
A Day Away from Wal-Mart and Target Is Its Own Spiritual Cleanse
I couldn't do it yesterday. On Monday, we'd gone to two Targets, the only two in this valley. On Tuesday, Wal-Mart Supercenter, and since we headed out there after 1 p.m., I realized while we were out that I had forgotten to Tivo Jeopardy!. I'd had enough.
Mom had to go to Wal-Mart yesterday to get a watch she wanted. Yes, the same Wal-Mart.
No. Not again. I'd seen enough of the inside of that place already, plus, they didn't have a copy of Medium Raw by Anthony Bourdain, which I had been reading at both Targets. I don't mind bringing in my own books to read, but it's still a little disheartening to find the differences in demographics and reading preferences between Target and Wal-Mart. Ok, yes, Target does have a bigger space for books, so that must be part of it, but come on, more paperbacks than anything else?
So Mom, Dad and Meridith went out and in celebration of a day away from all of that, I turned on the air conditioning since it was pretty uncomfortable in the house. Yeah, I'm simple when it comes to good times. And I loved it. I read more of Hunger of Memory: The Education of Richard Rodriguez by Richard Rodriguez, which I'll probably finish today (The nice thing about not having a library in the area for a while is that reading becomes a calmer venture. You're not bound by due dates and the risk that you might not be able to renew some books. All the books in my room are available to me, whenever I want, and after this one, do I want to read The Sportswriter by Richard Ford or The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman by Ernest J. Gaines? My choice. No due date), and had yet another fascinating conversation with someone online. All I'll say right now, since I don't want to be presumptuous, is that she's incredibly nice, bright, a lot of fun, and we have so much in common that it's scary, but a good scary, including being native Floridians, having the same favorite tea (Lady Grey), loving old movies, always wary of new movies, equal love of Barbra Streisand, voracious readers, she's a third-generation Days of Our Lives fan (I was a huge fan in 6th grade and a little bit after, and when she caught me up on what had happened with my favorite characters, it was like I had never stopped being one), and whenever we talk, there's always a comfortable rhythm. It just fits. It'll still be some time before we meet in person, since I've still got to move to Las Vegas (she's been there for six months), and I'm just going to take it day by day. I'm not in 6th grade anymore. There's no need to try to rush anything like I used to do. I'm older, and at least a little bit wiser.
Oh yeah, today! My day off from all the errand running was a kind of spiritual cleanse. I truly felt renewed, and I'm ok with going back out to the usual places today. I can get through more of Medium Raw if we go to Target, I can finish Hunger of Memory, and I still have the "Sandwich Issue" of Saveur, and the "Barbecue Nation Issue" came yesterday. And I've got my mp3 player like always, so I'm set. Plus, I could use more spinach, and I'm not sure when Meridith's going to use the baby spinach we got for her masterpiece of a pasta dish that includes chicken breast and sprinkle cheese from Trader Joe's. The way she makes it, no sauce is needed. So whenever she uses it, there'll probably be some left for me, but I want to be sure that I have some when I need it again.
Also, the bananas I have became ripe unusually fast. I'm thinking that maybe it was because I placed so many in that big plastic blue bowl at once, and the pressure of all of it caused it. I don't know, but I'll be more cautious just in case. Nevertheless, I'd like some newer ones because I like them just as the green is about to disappear from the peel, when it's firm and sweet enough without starting to turn mushy.
Today's going to be a nice day.
And a P.S. to whatever forces of fate oversee human matters: Please go easy on me this time. I've been presumptuous before about women, but I've been very cautious this time. I wrote about her now only because she amazes me every day with her personality and what we have in common. That's all. Please, please, please, please, please, please don't take that as a sign to mess with me yet again.
Mom had to go to Wal-Mart yesterday to get a watch she wanted. Yes, the same Wal-Mart.
No. Not again. I'd seen enough of the inside of that place already, plus, they didn't have a copy of Medium Raw by Anthony Bourdain, which I had been reading at both Targets. I don't mind bringing in my own books to read, but it's still a little disheartening to find the differences in demographics and reading preferences between Target and Wal-Mart. Ok, yes, Target does have a bigger space for books, so that must be part of it, but come on, more paperbacks than anything else?
So Mom, Dad and Meridith went out and in celebration of a day away from all of that, I turned on the air conditioning since it was pretty uncomfortable in the house. Yeah, I'm simple when it comes to good times. And I loved it. I read more of Hunger of Memory: The Education of Richard Rodriguez by Richard Rodriguez, which I'll probably finish today (The nice thing about not having a library in the area for a while is that reading becomes a calmer venture. You're not bound by due dates and the risk that you might not be able to renew some books. All the books in my room are available to me, whenever I want, and after this one, do I want to read The Sportswriter by Richard Ford or The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman by Ernest J. Gaines? My choice. No due date), and had yet another fascinating conversation with someone online. All I'll say right now, since I don't want to be presumptuous, is that she's incredibly nice, bright, a lot of fun, and we have so much in common that it's scary, but a good scary, including being native Floridians, having the same favorite tea (Lady Grey), loving old movies, always wary of new movies, equal love of Barbra Streisand, voracious readers, she's a third-generation Days of Our Lives fan (I was a huge fan in 6th grade and a little bit after, and when she caught me up on what had happened with my favorite characters, it was like I had never stopped being one), and whenever we talk, there's always a comfortable rhythm. It just fits. It'll still be some time before we meet in person, since I've still got to move to Las Vegas (she's been there for six months), and I'm just going to take it day by day. I'm not in 6th grade anymore. There's no need to try to rush anything like I used to do. I'm older, and at least a little bit wiser.
Oh yeah, today! My day off from all the errand running was a kind of spiritual cleanse. I truly felt renewed, and I'm ok with going back out to the usual places today. I can get through more of Medium Raw if we go to Target, I can finish Hunger of Memory, and I still have the "Sandwich Issue" of Saveur, and the "Barbecue Nation Issue" came yesterday. And I've got my mp3 player like always, so I'm set. Plus, I could use more spinach, and I'm not sure when Meridith's going to use the baby spinach we got for her masterpiece of a pasta dish that includes chicken breast and sprinkle cheese from Trader Joe's. The way she makes it, no sauce is needed. So whenever she uses it, there'll probably be some left for me, but I want to be sure that I have some when I need it again.
Also, the bananas I have became ripe unusually fast. I'm thinking that maybe it was because I placed so many in that big plastic blue bowl at once, and the pressure of all of it caused it. I don't know, but I'll be more cautious just in case. Nevertheless, I'd like some newer ones because I like them just as the green is about to disappear from the peel, when it's firm and sweet enough without starting to turn mushy.
Today's going to be a nice day.
And a P.S. to whatever forces of fate oversee human matters: Please go easy on me this time. I've been presumptuous before about women, but I've been very cautious this time. I wrote about her now only because she amazes me every day with her personality and what we have in common. That's all. Please, please, please, please, please, please don't take that as a sign to mess with me yet again.
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