HOLLYN-wood (Norman, that is)

I haven’t been posting recently. Not because I don’t have anything to say. It’s just that I don’t have anything of value to say.

Actually, I’ve been in New York, where my father’s been very sick, after a stroke. I finally flew back today and, somewhat ironically, as I was somewhere over St. Louis, he passed away.

So, I’m heading back to New York on Sunday. Don’t count on any postings from me anytime soon. My Mom is still on 48K dialup with Mac OS 9, and for those who aren’t techies, let me translate that for you.

It sucks!!

Talk to you after the funeral and all.

You may have noticed that I haven’t been posting recently.

Then again, maybe you haven’t noticed.

In any case, this situation is liable to continue for a few more weeks. It’s been relatively crazy with what finishing the semester, my father suffering a stroke, my wife falling and smashing up her knee, and my daughter getting back from college just in time to have four widsom teeth pulled.

It don’t get any more fun than that.

In any case, I’ve continued my record of seeing movies that I dislike that other people then tend to say “Hey, what was wrong with that film anyway?” My usual answer is to scream “What is wrong with YOU??!!”

But then you stumble on a different movie and you feel like it is safe to go back into the theatres. I DID love BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, but we saw MATADOR last night and we were really happy that we did. It’s no one’s idea of a heavy film, but the story of a nebbishy Greg Kinnear meeting up with master but grungy hitman Pierce Brosnan on a business trip in Mexico starts out with promise and then delivers on it. It’s funny and honest, well-directed (firm hand with the actors and with style) and it rarely takes the easy way out. There were several times when I said to myself “I HOPE that he doesn’t do [fill in the blank].” And then, lo and behold, he DIDN’T [fill in the blank].

Go see it and skip FAMILY STONE.

Please.

This year we decided to leave the Tyranny Of The Turkey behind and we went to the Steak option for Thanksgiving dinner.

Now there’s something to be thankful for.

[And how was your Thanksgiving feast? And for those of you outside the States, I apologize. And for those of you who would consider a banana a feast, I apologize.]

Friday night we drove out to Palm Springs (well, “drove” is really too strong a word; what we really did is get in the car and sit on the 10 Freeway, watching “drivers” in other cars sit and watch us sit in our car watching them) to pick up our new puppy. Why Palm Springs?

Well, it goes back about 12 years ago, when we got our first dog — a Wheaten Terrier. Wheatens, in addition to being terminally cute and very good with kids (our daughter was six at the time and terrifed of dogs), are hypo allergenic. This means that they don’t shed and don’t have dander. This means that my wife could actually be in the same house as them.

And, did I mention that they’re also terminally cute?

In any case, we got Jasper and fell in love. Ten years later, when he died, we weren’t ready for another dog. But this year we felt that we might be and started badgering the breeder to reserve us another one whenever she had litter. [To be precise, she doesn't have the litter, her main dog does. But I assume you can figure out what I mean.] It took a while but, on September 3, her dog Lily had a litter and, guess what, they were terminally cute.

In any case, the breeder has (in the ensuing 12 years) moved to Palm Springs so, there we were, staring at the car in the “fast” lane this past Friday night. We eventually got out there at about 9:30pm (we had started at 3:45 but stopped off for some great Chinese food at a mall devoted only to Chinese food and stuff) and collapsed into our motel room bed.

Saturday morning, Renton was ours.

There will be no prizes for people who recognize where we got the name “Renton” from but let’s just say that we have the only dog that I am aware of who is named for a drug addict. It makes for interesting conversation when the puppy isn’t being terminally cute.

But Renton is, as I’m sure I mentioned, terminally cute all of the time. So we don’t have to explain the name very much.

Since then, he’s gotten up at 5:30 Sunday morning and 3:30 and 5:30 today. So, I’m really really looking forward to teaching until 10:30 this evening. This is me — bleary eyed.

And, hence, the title of this post.

Audio Books are the complete shit. Luckily, I never have to drive more than an hour at a time (I know, I know; those of you who live outside of Los Angeles are now thinking that I’ve officially lost my mind), but even at 30 minute distances, the only thing that beats a good mystery on an audiobook is listening to Randi Rhodes rant on Air America (I LOVE her! She’s Rush on Liberal Drugs!!).

Right now, I’m listening to LINCOLN LAWYER (by Michael Connelly). Before this I did something odd for me and went non-fiction — Joan Didion’s YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING [I totally recommend this book for anyone who has lost someone close to them, or intends to.].

My tastes generally run to easy-to-put-down mysteries. Janet (my wife) likes to listen to serious books as well but I actually like to use my driving time for non-strenous stuff — other than screaming at moronic drivers in the lanes next to me.

Speaking of driving, what is the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen someone do in a car? I once saw a guy chomping down on a huge meal, complete with a napkin tucked underneath his chin. Another time I saw a woman get nearly completely dressed in the car next to me. The amazing thing is, is that she went from bra and panties to completely dressed in the space of one red light (okay, it was the light at San Vicente and Wilshire which is famously long, but still…) I’ve heard the expression that people here in LA, live in their cars. I had no idea just how true that wasuntil I moved out here.

Why is it that job offers only come the day before you’re heading out of town for a short vacation?

Whose job is it to enforce the handicapped parking space laws and where the hell are they ever?

[The same goes for the people allegedly enforcing the 'NO SUV' rules in the USC parking lots.]

How come the traffic always suddenly picks up speed after I move out the lane, looking for some relief.

What do foreigners mean when they say “your president” when they all know damn well that I didn’t vote for him?

David Lynch spoke here at USC the other night about a foundation that he’s involved with that helps people find TM. I missed it (I had to go home an watch… uh… what’s on TV on Thursdays??) Defamer had a review of it that, frankly, didn’t exactly sell it to me. Was anyone there who can tell me what really went on?

This is hopefully the lowest I will ever EVER sink, but I’ve often remarked that Paris Hilton seems to have only one look, no matter how many photos I’ve seen of her (and I don’t even look at People magazine).

Someone got the brilliant idea to prove it. Give it a try. One warning, though. With this much concentrated Hilton face, all in one place, you might need to take a breath afterwards. Remember, put your head down in between your knees.

One sucky thing about teaching on Halloween night is that you miss all of the cute little five year olds who aren’t quite sure why they’re trekking around in Annakin Skywalker outfits except that a whole bunch of normally unseen neighbors keep giving them pieces of wrapped candy.

And they NEVER get that during the rest of the year.

All they have to do is yell “TRICKORTREAT!!” at the top of their lungs and shove a bag out in front of them.

The number of trick or treaters coming by our house has been declining in recent years. There is a small wave at about five o’clock — small kids with parents who hang back on the front sidewalk while their kids stagger up to our front door, plastic pumpkins dangling from their arms. They do the ceremonial TRICKORTREAT (does anyone ever say “I’ll take the trick”?), and then wait while we drop some candy or razor blades (oops, wait, I did NOT say that!!) into their receptacles. They then proceed to run back to their parents who are yelling “Say ‘thank you!!’”

They sometimes do.

About two hours later, a few older kids slouch through the neighborhood and a few of them even have some good costumes.

About 10:00pm, a new wave comes through the neighborhood — the kids of a lot of the Latina nannies in the neighborhood who, I assume, have just finished watching their charges while the parents are out drinking cider, bobbing for apples, and shooting heroin. Their treat bags and costumes have the homemade look to them, rather than the patina of something bought the week before at the local Santa Monica costume shop. The kids aren’t much different than the white kids — they still yell TRICKORTREAT and then have to be reminded to say thanks.

And then it’s all over.

This year, I taught on Halloween evening. One student wore a costume and she admitted that the wings that she had wanted to bring were too big to schlep from the car.

it’s just not the same.

I occasionally get requests for recommendations for editorial job positions. Two just crossed my desk for people with well defined skills.

One is for an assistant editor in LA for a Brazilian arts documentary. They say “assistant” but want a person with a laptop with Final Cut Pro 4.5 HD.

The other job is for a Portuguese Subtitle Editor with DVD Studio Pro or similar.

Anyone interested? It works for me if I know you so I could recommend without fear.