Sometimes I like to just take a look at the tag cloud of people I know who maintain blogs and see how good of a representation it is of the person I know.

Let’s take a look at mine, first.

It’s not bad in terms of giving you a basic idea of what I’m up to. Lyric mentioned today that her name is too small – she doesn’t like how Ollie’s and Darby’s are larger. We have california and the east coast represented, along with the things that do seem to weigh on my mind like my career, my struggle (and it’s twin brother “struggles”), my finances, and representation. Screenwriting is the largest word, because I do end up writing about that a lot. UCLA is also large, which makes sense because I greatly appreciated my experience in that fine film school. Topanga makes a large experience because – good or bad – the place definitely makes an impression. There’s the little trio of frustrating, funny, and god – which oddly I believe belong together, honestly. Then we have wisdom, which I strive to have and listen to, and family, which is also very important to me. Along with time, which I’m always trying to find more of. I’m happy to see hiking make an appearance, too. And since I develop iPhone apps, it makes sense that it shows up as well. I’d say it’s a pretty good snapshot. I think I wish maybe some sports got in there, and probably more family and friends by name – but honestly many times when I’m talking about family or friends I don’t mention them by name because I’m not always sure what people want me to say about them online. So I’m more generalized much of the time.

Oh, and some day it would be great to add a tag called “Oscar-winning.” But that can wait.

Let’s move onto my daughter’s tag cloud.

Lyric’s tag cloud is simpler, which I think is right, considering she’s 10. I actually love that she has a fairly uncomplicated life. Things can and will get much more complicated later, so let’s keep it simple now. And honestly, her tag cloud makes me glad because it reads like a list of people who love her very much interspersed with words like “Christmas” and “fun”! She was surprised to see that the word “Ollie” was so large. That guy just really makes an impression, I guess. And I would like to point out that while “mommy” is larger than either “dad” or “daddy” – if she would settle on one title for me the combined power of that one title might even supersede mommy all together.

How about my sister, Jessica?

As I’ve mentioned before, my sister is currently navigating her own personal hell with both strength and grace, so her tags are especially interesting as HUMOR and GOD still dominate the landscape along with theater/tour and thoughts/life. And if you read her posts, you see that she does rely heavily on both humor and God to make it through the day, so it’s nic to see that in her cloud. And then there’s the tag that at one time was so simple and easy, but now it’s not so. I’m not going to write it, I’ll just let you figure it out. (And no, it’s not JAPAN.) But really it always seems odd to me that this tag isn’t somehow split into two tags. The “before summer of 09″ and “after summer of 09″ tag. Because that tag used to be associated with head over heals commitment and affection, love and lovely writings that Jessica would write weekly if not daily. And now it’s a tag attached to such pain and heartache. Just one small word. And yet, I know that as Jessica continues to live this new life that’s been given to (forced upon) her, she’ll continue to write about new things – wonderful, unforeseen things, and slowly that tag will get smaller and smaller – just like many of the other tags that are still in her cloud but not much of her everyday life anymore. Like Japan. That one is getting smaller. And even “A Chorus Line,” because she’s not in that show anymore. Eventually all those tags will shrink and shrink and probably fall out of the tag cloud all together. But the fun thing to think of is…. what new tags will come and replace them? (By the way, I had to lobby long and hard to get mentioned by name enough to actually make it into Jessica’s tag cloud. And now that I’m there, I really don’t want to lose my place! Still annoys me that “toyko” and “Christian” are larger than me!)

Let’s take a gander at my writing partner’s…
Hey everyone, meet Doc Pedrolie. He’s my writing partner on all television endeavors, all graphic novels, and most features. He’s an all around awesome guy, and the first UCLA classmate I met out here in California. one of the nicest people I’ve ever known, and now a dear friend to our whole family. He hasn’t been keeping his blog for long, so the tags aren’t completely representative of all his many varied interests. (Seriously, Doc is one of those guys who you mention something like, “You know, I’ve been kind of getting into Bluegrass lately,” and he can then carry on an informed discussion for an hour about the nuances of Bluegrass, sharing recommendations, anecdotes and little known facts. You can throw just about anything at him and he’ll know stuff. And he doesn’t make it up, either, like I do.

Now first off, I have to commend Doc because his tag cloud actually mentioned my blog by name. Huzzah for that. And thank you. Past that, you can see that Imagination and Inspiration are begging to be seen, and that’s only right because Doc works on those things. He doesn’t wait for them to walk into the room. He hunts them down and captures them nightly. Los Angeles, this city of dreams, is well represented, along with UCLA and Bruin Scribes. Doc is nothing if not loyal. I like that “Unexpected Gift” shows up as a fairly large tag, because isn’t that what we’re all hoping for – and aren’t all the best things in life normally the unexpected gifts. The expected gifts, yes, they’re nice…. but you expected them. It’s the unexpected ones that will blow you away and exceed even your wildest imagination. Doc’s a big baseball fan, so that explains all the baseball related tags. And he’s from Chicago – and while he’ll probably never go back, there’s a part of his heart that is still there now.

And lastly, my good friend since childhood, Christian.
Christian is aptly named. He’s one of those great guys that – in a world where so many people make you ashamed to share the “Christian” label along with them – makes you proud to apply it if it applies to him too. Seriously, he’s a good guy. One of those touchstones kind of guys who would probably really shake you and your belief that there can be good in this messed up world if he went off the deep end (no pressure, Christian!)

Christian’s a pastor, so it should maybe come as no surprise to see God and Jesus and Bible and youth ministry so largely represented. But then again, the reason he’s a very good pastor is because he doesn’t care about these things because it’s his career, it’s his career because he cares about these things. But one thing I love about Christian’s tag cloud is that KIDS is huge. And fighting it for prominence (along with God) is GRIEF. Now I’d say in a fight, I’d put my money on God and KIDS to ultimately win out versus Grief, and that’s exactly what Christian has lived. Remember how I said that love hurts so much sometimes? Well, Christian knows. He’s earned a certain amount of wisdom in that whole area that, quite frankly, I hope to never have to earn myself. It’s his story to tell, so I’ll let you go to his blog to read it, but let’s just say that when Christian talks about suffering and love and all that, you’d be wise to listen.

I love that “creek” shows up in his tag cloud. I wish creek would show up in mine, or waterfalls, or woods, or something like that. But I do have to wonder what’s wrong with him that “dentist” shows up too. Is he just obsessed with his teeth or something? And, of course, as is the general theme these days for many of us, money holds a pretty big spot. But here’s another one I want in my tag cloud – MUSIC. I need more music.

I am NOT so happy to see that the ONLY non family member who shows up by name is Joe. That just doesn’t seem fair to me.

But soccer being that large, well that just seems right. Because the one place Christian is allowed to not act like his name all the time is on the soccer field.

So there you have it. The blogs I read regularly, and my take on their tag cloud. Probably weren’t expecting that, huh?

(And Tiffany, if you had a tag cloud, I would have read it for you!)

Wow, that was much longer than expected.

For instance, I try to write 5 pages a day. But sometimes I finish those 5 pages and find that I still have more in me, so I’ll go ahead and write another 5, 10, maybe even 15 pages. And then at the end of that day, I know that I’ve put in 4 days worth of work and bought myself a freebie if I need it. I love that. It’s like all the pressure is off, and I can just fly. And sometimes those no-pressure pages are better. (Sometimes they’re not, honestly.)

Today, I got a totally unexpected bonus. Normally on the weekend, we go out and try to have some kind of adventure as a family. But today, things were pretty chill. People wanted to do quiet things with paper, like draw.

So, okay, I joined everyone with my own notebook and pencil. And I was able to sketch out – the entire outline of my next feature, which had been hanging over my head for quite some time now! I was going to give it all my attention tomorrow, but now it’s like some magical elves wrote it overnight and delivered it to my doorstep. The thoughts and characters just really started flowing, and even though I kept telling myself, “Well, let’s see if I can get Act 1, and then I’ll stop” or “Act 2 and that’s it” pretty soon I found that I had roughed in the total structure of my film. Pretty cool.

And then, my representation wants some spec episodes from me and my writing partner to help them get us TV staff jobs. Again, with no real pressure, I got some emotional landscape for two different spec shows that really appealed to me – immediately they were very inspirational in terms of creating a full script. And so I was able to write that down too.

So on a day where I thought I’d still have 3 pretty big things looming over my head, I was able to really knock out a lot of it.

Bonus time.

Which is only right, because I have a 8 AM meeting tomorrow morning.

Waking up early still feels like a death sentence.

And this family just found out that Aussie has a tumor in her nose – and probably 4-6 months to live. Aussie is only 2 and a half years old. It’s a tragedy. We visited them a little on Friday, and Aussie is on medication and groggy and slow – completely different than her normal, perky, active self. The husband in the family, especially, is incredibly sad. I noticed him just staring at Aussie while the dog rested on the floor, trying to will to reality his hopes. It was so sad to see.

So sad, in fact, that – while we were inching closer to maybe getting a dog for ourselves – now Lyric’s decided she doesn’t want one. And given the way we worry and stress over every up and down that our geckos experience, I’m kind of relieved if we don’t.

Sometimes loves just doesn’t seem worth the pain. Sometimes that Paul Simon song, where you are a rock, you are an island – and a rock feels no pain and an island never cries – really makes a ton of sense. My heart and my head both know 99% of the time that it is worth it, but that doesn’t make the pain hurt any less, or the risk any less dangerous.

If you’d like to help me out (and I’d love it if you would!), here are things you can do:

1) Click through to Funny or Die and vote “Funny” – that would mean the world to me.

2) From that same page, post it to your facebook or twitter or digg accounts.

3) If you have a blog, post it!

4) Tell your friends to vote “funny” for it, too.

5) Leave friendly comments here and elsewhere.

6) Thanks, and enjoy!

But much of my dramatic muscles laid fairly dormant until I wrote a play for the summer camp I was running – “The Story of Esther.” I wrote a number of smallish one act plays for the drama week of my camp, and they were a smash hit with the parents.

And since my brother Jonathan is now a pastor who is hungry for material for his drama teams, I’m often asked to mine these old gems and polish them up. Most of them end up working quite well, like the David and Goliath comedy that my own daughter Lyric starred in as the ferocious yet somewhat lovable Goliath. It was a mind-blowing experience to see your own flesh-n-blood take a role you penned long before she was even a twinkle in anyones’ eye.

And now he’s gotten to the very first one I wrote, so after having to do some datamining tricks on my computer (since I wrote it about 4 machines ago, in a program I no longer hve, for a platform I no longer have) I was able to produce it for him. Many times I’m so busy that I just have to send it to him saying “Haven’t looked at it in 10 years. It seemed to work back then. No promises.”

But now, since I’ve recently come up with the bright idea of getting all 7 of these plays together and offering them for sale on a website, I thought I better take a look and see if it’s up to the level of quality I’d like associated with my name on the internet.

Esther wasn’t.

Upon reading my play, there waas something that bothered me immediately about the story of Esther. Not in terms of history – it is what it is, and you can’t really complain about a true recollection of events as they occurred. But as a play, as as story, as something worth enveloping an audience in for a half hour.

And this is it: I think Esther has some strange unintended messages for girls. As in:

1) The only reason men will listen to girls in the first place is if they find them attractive. And,

2) The only thing girls can do to change a bad situation is convince men to do something.

You have a king who had gotten rid of his first wife – Queen Vashti – because she didn’t want to just be ogled for her looks by the king and his drunken friends. Then the king replaces her with Esther – without knowing Esther at all – based on Esther’s looks alone.

Then Esther finds out about a terrible plot against the Jewish people. And the only option open to her is facing death and asking the king for mercy (for approaching the king unbidden – even by a wife – was punishable by death.) And she faces her fear, gets all gussied up in beautiful robes, approaches him, and when he looks at her he finds favor with her and grants her wishes – to stop this plot against her people.

So, in terms of potential lessons here? Don’t stand up for your own self-respect like Vashti did, or you get thrown out of the palace. Be pretty, like Esther. Hope you can be pretty enough to win some powerful guy’s favor, so you can get your wishes granted.

As a father of a daughter I adore, I don’t like these messages.

(And again, I’m not saying that the actual scriptural story of Esther has these messages, because it’s a history of an event. But when it’s made into a play, messages are sent – and when I read through my draft from years ago these are the messages I hated to admit I saw.)

So what do I do? It’s the Story of Esther. These are the facts of what happened. How can I change it?

And what’s cool – I could see how my training and pure storytelling discipline over the past decade helped me solve these problems with “instincts” that I wouldn’t have had without all the pages I’ve written between then and now.

I concentrated on the character of Esther to solve this problem – and knew I needed to add conflict. Now the king’s attitude – that of wanting beautiful women around just to look at and enjoy – can still be in a script, but the message sent about that attitude will really depend on other characters’ reaction to that attitude. If everyone is okay with it and the king suffers no consequences, it looks like that attitude is cool.

So Esther is not cool with it anymore. In fact, now I’ve set it up that when she finds out the king has chosen her as a wife, she’s a total romantic. She thinks he’ll want to talk to her, get to know her, enjoy her company as two people who love each other do. But when she first meets him and all he wants is her beauty – and in fact tells her to stop talking so much because her moving mouth makes it hard for him to enjoy her pretty little face, she’s traumatized. So, by focusing on a character and exploring what her true reaction to such a sad situation would be, I’ve solved the whole Vashti goes and Esther replaces her troubling message. And now I’ve added so much more character conflict. Esther thought things would be great, and instead they’re horrible. What should she do?

I also added more scenes for Vashti, so she could verbalize the “girls are only as good as they are pretty, honey” message that Vashti has now come to believe, based on her own terrible experience. And you see Esther develop to the point where she says this isn’t true. Again, it adds more conflict, but it also shows the two responses to a sad reality – giving up and accepting it, like Vashti, or being courageous and refusing to succumb to it, like Esther.

These are messages I am comfortable sending.

For the last bit – that girls are only powerful to the extent that they can influence a powerful man – I amped up the drama of that last scene to change that whole dynamic. Originally, I had Esther enter and the king find favor with her. That’s a big dramatic let-down to the build up of “oh my goodness you can die for visiting him unbidden”! Kind of like writing JAWS with no shark. That’s a problem.

So this time when she enters, the king is furious. His friends are there! She’s embarrassed him! So he gives her one last warning, saying she must leave or she will be executed. Esther stands strong: “I need to talk to you.” He tries to give her another warning, and she cuts him off – stating she’s exhausted her last warning, and at this point he needs to kill her or listen to what she feels so strongly about that she’d face death.

And this courageous display changes the king- challenges him. For this part, focusing on the character of the king helped me. He’s never had anyone challenge him on anything, except Vashti, and he acts like a baby when people do. But now seeing someone who is willing to call his bluff and face the ultimate punishment for the sake of others, he sees that he doesn’t hold all the power. In fact, he sees that this woman that he choose for her beauty alone is actually more powerful than her. And he feels empathy for the first time – a desire to help her despite it costing him.

So now, instead of simply having a beautiful woman ask some dude a favor because she wasn’t powerful enough to do it herself – I have a courageous woman who’s willing to sacrifice her own life to stand up and demand that the right thing be done. And this display changes a king who’s never seen anything like this before, and it’s making him feel things he’s never had to feel before.

And again, that’s a message I enjoy in this play.

So now, I’m proud to say I’m extremely comfortable with this script. I was able to make it send the right messages, along with really increasing the drama and being truer to the characters as real people.

That’s a good rewrite.

And an impossibly beautiful series of one waterfall after another as you ascend the mountain.

And impossibly huge boulders that seem placed both randomly and perfectly at the same time.

And the quest for the perfect walking sticks fulfilled.

And such an incredible, amazing hike that your daughter says, “There’s no word to describe how this place makes me feel!”

And did I mention these three?

And a panorama that you could sit in for hours and still notice new things.

And more waterfalls.

And an old stone wall of mysterious origins that you decide had to have been built by fairies or some kind of mythical woods creatures….

Just has to be an amazingly awesome birthday.

(Solstice Canyon in Malibu is truly one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen in my life. We climbed higher up the series of waterfalls and pools today than we ever had and found one wonder after another. It was one of those perfect times that makes you want to sing and run and laugh all at the same time.)

Now before you talk about going local and all that, I know. But going local from across the country is not easy. (“Not Easy” being defined as looking for a local option online for about 5 minutes and giving up.) I wanted to be sure to get something to her by Valentine’s Day, so I went with the big gun, FTD.

I bought them the Thursday before Valentine’s Day. We were very excited about our little surprise. So we waited… Did they come? Kept asking sneaky little questions when the day finally arrived. “Get anything today.” And lo and behold the day passed and nothing. I contacted FTD via their online customer service, and was promised they “would get back to me within 24 hours.”

The next day. Nothing. No message back. No flowers. I wrote again. This was crazy! A huge brand like FTD – flowers is all they do – and they couldn’t get them to my sister on Valentine’s Day? Or at least get back to me.

I tracked it on UPS – at first it said “Emergency, road closed.” Which wasn’t really true, I knew that people were driving – the roads had been plowed from the snow. But then, when there was no snow at all, the status changed to “No such address.” Which was insane. Of course the address exists. I contacted FTD again and got no response.

I thought after three contacts, surely FTD would get back to me, so I waited. And waited. I checked the UPS status. They now were saying they were leaving messages with the recipient asking for their actual address. I double, triple checked the address. It was completely correct. I asked my sister if UPS was leaving her messages. They weren’t. I left more messages with FTD. Frozen out from all angles.

Today I finally got through on the phone. She told me the flowers were delivered on 2/25 – which still would have been 11 days past Valentine’s Day. But that’s not true, my sister never got the flowers. I checked the tracking, and indeed they had been recorded as delivered in 2/25 – to Coral, Florida and signed for by someone named “Gomez.”

I hope Gomez is going through a traumatic event of some kind so the 11 day late Valentine flowers bring her or him a measure of comfort.

I asked the rep if they had a record of all my previous contacts and requests for help and information. She said they did. I asked if there was any record of me being responded to. She said there wasn’t. Of course, knowing she was likely making $9 an hour at most and wasn’t the one responsible for whatever huge mess up had caused this, I let it go at that.

I asked for a full refund. And I will be writing a letter.

This one a double date, I suppose. This time I met with a well-connected manager/producer who is basically representing my friend and myself as writing partners. Once again, it’s always strange, these meetings, where you need to act natural while at the same time be aware that every second you are making an impression, good or bad, and you really should try to make it a good one.

This one got off to a late start. We thought it would be around 6.30, but didn’t really kick off until 8.30 – leaving my friend and I hanging out at a nearby In-N-Out Burger for quite some time. There are worse, less delicious ways to spend time.

This guy is a good guy, and he’s passionate about our writing and our careers. It’s always good to find allies and fans – in fact this struggle is really all about doing exactly that. Almost all jobs I’ll ever get will likely come from these personal connections.

We talked about a lot, it was a 3 hour meeting, and you can’t help but feel confident coming out of a meeting like that, to be honest. And we’re going to meet with him every other week – at his Malibu beach house…

One, it’s simply discipline. I think it’s very good for me to have a goal and stick to it, regardless of how I feel. And while I try to do this in all areas of my life, it’s good for me specifically to accomplish this in the realm of writing. I’ve found that “creative” people have a very difficult time being creative consistently – or even, sometimes, at all – so I don’t want to fall prey to that same curse.

Two, it’s good for me to share updates and all that with all my friends on both sides of the country (and even in the middle and abroad, I suppose.) While facebook and twitter give me a chance to kit (that’s keep in touch, for those of you not in the know) 160 characters at a time, here it’s my space and if I want to spend 1000 words on (nonexistent?) Congress Created Dust Bowls, I can do that and you’ll all know that I’ve been thinking about that lately.

But there is a level of life, existence, relationships… that don’t get mentioned on this blog, or on many blogs. I’m talking about the pain, the distress, the despair and the downright bitter taste that life sometimes deals out to you. I don’t know if it’s lack of bravery or simply adhering to normal boundaries, but I really don’t share those things too often. Here.

I mean, sure, when a year ago I was struggling through my first real knock out blows in this difficult writing business, I shared that hurt. But who am I kidding, while being a writer is very important to me, it’s not at the level of personal earthshaking pain that I’m talking about. (Although, at the time, I thought it was… but the year since has shown me that “I had no idea.”) I mean really, March of 2009 up against August through the end of 2009 and even up until today? No contest.

My sister’s excellent blog “This Life in Writing,” has become one of those rare places where the real pain of life is shared, (and beautifully, I might add.) If you have the time, go through and read her posts, every single one of them. You’ll be rewarded by an achingly strong portrayal of a person who’s been carved out hollow and is now determined that others not dictate who she’ll be in the future.

This isn’t really by choice as much as necessity for her – others basically lifted her life into the air and smashed it on the ground, splitting it into a million pieces. She has so many things to work her way through that writing and music have become a refuge and a recovery plan for her – she is quite literally at times writing for her life.

But I remember when her world was first shattered, and still often her posts weren’t as forthcoming as they are now, and it would seem strange. Because I knew there was this whole other level she was living that wasn’t showing up in her words. And the same thing happened here, too. I would spend my entire day immersed in the sadness of that situation, and when I’d sit down to write a post – I’d have absolutely nothing to write that wasn’t somehow related to that, and since that tragedy wasn’t yet cleared for public knowledge, I simply wrote nothing.

And even now, when other things are going on in my life – feelings, thoughts, situations, worries that often aren’t cleared for the “public domain,” it’s odd to sometimes be consumed by one thing, yet write so much about another. It’s inherent to a public journal, of course, that things that ought to remain private be left out, but still it always strikes me as just plain weird to write so much, and yet in some ways “write nothing at all.”

But that’s what fiction writing is for, I guess. The chance to write just about anything you want and just be able to say, “Oh that!? That was just made up!”

No more information, no link for follow up. It seemed like a protest, but it was a confusing one, to say the least.

I looked it up last night, and it turns out it’s a complicated situation, caught up in California’s confusing, controversial water rights issues. Many people don’t know this, but there is a large aqueduct system that transports water from Northern California to Southern California. (It’s actually quite a beautiful thing to see while making this drive.) The Northern Californians aren’t that excited about it, because really they’d like their water to themselves.

Now much of the farmland in the southern part of the Central Valley has no natural water, so to grow crops they require water to be transported to them from the Aqueduct.

Those seem to be the facts that no one disputes.

Here’s where the controversy in terms of the “Congress Created Dust Bowl” starts.

First, many people say that because a 2 inch endangered fish – the delta smelt –  that was being put at risk by the pumps of the aqueduct system – the transportation of water to these farms was halted.

Others say that rich agri-industrialists bought up this cheap desert land and then relied on government subsidized water to transform it all into farmland. But then Congress no longer subsidized the transportation of that water – and told the large industrial farms that they’d have to pay full price to have water sent to their farms, because the cities and large populations in Southern California had to be prioritized.

Others say there is only a dustbowl because the industrial farms aren’t properly rotating their crops and instead are focused on cheap, fast plowing methods that bring about short term profits at the expense of rich top-soil, causing it to eventually dry up and blow away.

Then there are those who contend that the industrial farmers are simply trying to make a political point, and leaving the fields near the highway dry and dusty, while still watering the fields farther from the road as normal. They just want to make it look like they’re suffering because they want that cheap government subsidized water again, so they’re appealing to those driving on I-5.

Now, all of this is very interesting to me, but the weirdest part of this whole drama?

Maybe it’s because of the rain lately, who knows. But Jonathan and I actually always laughed when we first saw these angry “Congress Created Dust Bowl” signs. Why? Because the fields as far as the eye could see were a bright verdant emerald green. Not an speck of dust, or even tan.

If that’s a Dust Bowl, I’d like to see fertile fields!

Yet, it’s strange because it’s becoming old hat to me. In the past 6 weeks, I’ve reached 3 FADE OUTs, and I don’t even feel like I’ve been working as hard as I could have been because of a number of personal things going on in my life and the lives of those I love.

I remember when I finished my first screenplay, I thought to myself, wow, I finished a WHOLE screenplay. As if I’d swam across the Atlantic or hiked the whole Appalachian Trail. And now these moments come and go and I quietly celebrate them. Now, don’t read me wrong, I’m not pining for the days when it seemed like such a huge deal. It seemed like such a huge deal because I hadn’t slipped into the disciplined rhythm of simply writing regardless of heavy inspiration or great ideas or even any ideas at all. It’s amazing the amount of drafts that can pile up when you’re committed to at least 5 pages a day – and how much of that material ends up being pretty great.

So here we are. This one needs significant work in subsequent drafts. It’s a big story, kind of unwieldy in places because it’s a strange wacky world I tried to create. It’s a relief to have this first draft done, because now I feel I have the raw materials to really find the final story.

But it definitely does need at least one pass through before let important people read it. There are definite flaws. For instance, I had a fairly major character end up in a prison cell, and then when all these characters were busted out of that prison cell, I kind of forgot to invite him along for the party. So he doesn’t show up for the rest of the script. That doesn’t seem right.

And of course, because I wrote it, there’s too much description AND too much dialogue. My characters like to talk a lot, and they also seem to enjoy a heavy dose of prose along with their lines. That’ll have to be neatened up a bit.

And the structure is not quite right. I know it. People who will read this draft will know it. But I had to get to the end and figure it out from there. It’ll be okay.

But still, it’s always an accomplishment.

Now I can get to my other two features, my comedy pilot, my next hour long pilot, my iphone app business, my taxes, and so on and so forth….

Also, in case you didn’t know, the Central Valley of California is just about completely uninhabited, flat, and vast. Filled with crops, sheep, orchards, vineyards, and cows. I share this simply because I didn’t know that, and thought you might be interested. In the distance on either side of the valley you could see mountains. It’s really pretty cool.

But we need to talk.

You see, I “Bank by Mail,” sending my checks to you for deposit. On January 26th, I mailed you a check. By February 13th, you still hadn’t processed them. I called you. You were polite and told me it must have gotten lost in the mail, and advised me to get a stop payment on all the checks I sent, and send new ones. I went through that nasty little exercise, and did as you asked me to do.

I mailed the new checks, and this time you did receive them and process them!

Along with the old checks.

It seemed weird to me that you did that. I thought, “What about getting lost in the mail?” It was strange that you finally deposited the old checks just when the new checks came in, like there’s some big box at Headquarters with my name on it and you bothered checking it when the new deposit came in the mail. (Or, maybe the mail was held up in the snow and it was all delivered together? Either way, I was still kind of okay with it, as annoying as it was. Every relationship has it’s ups and downs.)

I figured you’d see the stop payment, and just debit those old checks’ amounts. No real harm.

But then when the stop payment came through, you put a hold on my bank account. As in, I couldn’t access my money anymore. Not the amount that was wrongly deposited because of the old check – ALL of my money. I wasn’t so cool with that, because when I had called in, “the department that handles holds on accounts” was closed. For the weekend. It was Friday night.

That started to hurt a little, honestly.

But I called you, and we cleared it all up. You were worried someone was trying to defraud me. I assured you that wasn’t the case. You told me the hold was now taken off my account. I was happy.

Until I tried to buy something with my debit card. And there was still a hold on my account. And when I called, “the department that handles holds on accounts” was closed again!

Now, I feel like I’ve been reasonable, but it’s Tuesday now, and you’ve been holding my money hostage for 5 whole days now.

So please, let’s work this out soon.

Thanks,

Jason

Some background: I am the son of two pastors and the brother of another. You might say that the church was the family business. When I was in my mid teens through my early twenties, a trend known as “The Toronto Blessing” swept through our church which many people loved – but I did not. I felt like this community I kind of grew up in and loved had gone completely bonkers. (I’m not really saying anything against it – different strokes for different folks – except to say that for me, at that time in my life, it was really disturbing, and even now simply not the flavor of church that I prefer or even want to be within 10 miles of for the rest of my life.)

Some of the things that I found so upsetting about that movement – and which I still have residual issues over to this day – were the great emphasis put on loud outward displays of emotion and passion, and the pressure and negative repercussions you had to deal with if you didn’t want to roll around laughing, fall backwards as if electrocuted or crow like a chicken. (For those of you who didn’t live through such a movement, no, none of those are exaggerations.)

(Once again, for some of you reading this, I know that for many of you this was probably a wonderful, authentic time in your life and I really do respect and honor that. It just wasn’t for me. At all.)

In fact, just a quick story that always highlights to me how in-the-wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time I was during all of this.

I’ve been given the chance to make an announcement, trying to scrounge up some actors to put on a play that I’ve written and we’re planning to perform for Christmas. I get 5 words into my announcement, something along the lines of “Hi, I’ve written a play -” and someone starts laughing, loud enough to stop me. I try again, “And we were hoping to -” More laughter. More people joining in. Other people waving their hands towards the laughters, saying, “More Lord, give them more.” The whole section is taken by the wave, laughing, crying, cheering, rolling on the ground, jumping up and down. I’m drowned out, so I literally quickly  mumble, “if you want to find out more talk to me,” and sit down as fast as I can, wondering what place exactly I had in this community right now…

I’ve never been susceptible to peer pressure, and that’s what this was – at least towards me. People were having a good time – a fantastic time – and someone being in the same community who was not having such a good time was a major buzzkill, and I was King Buzzkill because I wouldn’t be okay with it.

It was tense, it was painful, but that’s not what this blog post is about. I’ve come out on the other end, still loving many of the people who loved this movement, and any perceived or actual wrongs that I might have suffered or inflicted are hopefully worked through. Maybe another post will discuss such things and their ramifications in more detail, but really I’ve only shared this to set up the context for this marvelous prank that many people got together to play on me.

It was a year or two after the Toronto Blessing hullabaloo had died down, and things were getting back to normal. Our church had planned a “Men’s Retreat,” and I was looking forward to getting away to the woods with a bunch of friends, playing football, basketball, enjoying some hiking.

Then I get an email from my brother, warning me that the church “wanted to be sure that the men reached a new level of intimacy with each other and God through this retreat,” and he knew that might be kind of scary for me, so he wanted me to be ready – but he thought it was a really good thing.

Then Darby calls and says she’s hearing that a special event is being planned for the Men’s Retreat, where we’ll be asked to take off our shirts and dance a special spiritual dance around the fire. Everyone must participate. I tell Darby that I won’t. I’ll leave. I email back to my brother telling him the same things in very strong language.

Then I get an email from a pastor at my church sent to all men who are planning on attending this retreat. It says that during the special Intimacy Event the doors will be locked and no one will be allowed to leave. That if people do want to leave, all of the men will be encouraged to lay hands on that unfortunate brother in order to cast out the obvious spirit of witchcraft tormenting him.

Then I’m getting emails from friends. Some say, “Did you hear about Intimacy Event at the Men’s Retreat. I’m psyched about it – should be awesome!” and some say, “Not sure about this dancing with our shirts off thing, but I want to be open to what the Lord wants to do.”

Now at this point I am fired up and very upset. This is not what I signed up for, this is exactly the kind of thing I thought I had finally escaped from. I’m sending long, impassioned emails to my parents, I’m leaving messages, I’m canceling my registration for the retreat all together. I’m telling everyone in leadership that this isn’t the way to encourage intimacy and will in fact have the exact opposite affect. I’m telling people that I certainly don’t want to be open to what some people think the Lord wants to do if that includes being forced to disrobe and dance with a bunch of sweaty, smelly men.

In other words, I am unhinged, off the rails, and I’ve swallowed this hook line and sinker.

GOTCHA, JASON.

Yep, my darling wife, my entire family, many of my friends, and the leadership of the church had all banded together to create an authentic flashback to a traumatically darker time for me, and done it perfectly. Seriously, they were so finely coordinated that they put the film “The Game,” to shame. And you know what? I loved every minute of it. That we were all now able to laugh and poke fun at what had seriously been my tortured reality just a couple years before was a wonderful breath of fresh air.

So bravo, you all. it was a job well done.

Let’s rip off our shirts and dance together in celebration.

So, for instance, the following exchange is strictly forbidden.

Jason: Guess what, Darby! I got a raise. I’m going to be making $10,000 more dollars a year. That means we can buy that new grand piano you had your eye on.

Darby: Really? Seriously?

Jason: Yes, really! I can’t believe it. Isn’t it so exciting?

Darby: Oh wow, I wasn’t expecting this.

Jason: That’s because I’m just kidding, hahahahaha! I GOT YOU!

Results: I think I’m hilarious. Darby feels like I plucked ten one thousand dollar bills and a new piano out of her pocket and threw them in the fire.

Now, while this exact exchange hadn’t happened, enough similar “jokes” had been played on her that we actually required a rule. I’m now allowed to pretend that (slightly) bad things are true and surprise her with a better reality. But the other way does kind of stink. I’ve come to agree. Darby’s favorite “just kiddings” are when I just make up random value free stories and embellish them until she believes them. Like the time I told her that Tina Yothers from Growing Pains was a celebrity judge at my high school Mid Atlantic Christian School Association Choir competition. That was a winner.

(Honestly, Darby would probably rather me not “kid” at all, and just save all the fiction for my screenplays, but… well, she didn’t marry a robot or a vending machine so I can’t just be programmed!)

But Darby did need to do a slight reprogramming job because my family of origin enjoys the “just kiddings” no matter which direction they point – good or bad. And one time they tried to get me and Darby with a real whopper of one.

We were newly married and I was working at the Gap (I know, I know… try not to be jealous). I had had a good day, having made a very large sale. Jonathan and Rebekah were hanging out with my parents, and they decided it would be funny to call me and  leave a message pretending that they were representatives from Gap International and my one day sales performance had been so impressive that I was being awarded a free trip to Hawaii.

I have to admit, on listening to the message, we believed it.

Until….

Jonathan and Rebekah and my parents didn’t bother to hang up the phone when their little prank was over. I mean, they thought they did, but instead we got to listen to another 5 minutes of them cheering and laughing and flush with pride, congratulating themselves over how clever the prank was and how flawless the delivery was – “It really did sound just like the Gap!” – and of course Jason’s going to believe it and won’t that be so funny and oh, did we mention how great an idea this was?

5 minutes of that. That’s not an exaggeration. It was actually a real treat to listen to.

So, of course, some measure of revenge was expected. Required, even.

And remember the rule: no pretending something is good when it’s not. But pretending it’s bad when it’s not? Well according to the Darby Code of Kidding – that’s perfectly acceptable.

So Darby calls them – they were still gathered together and no doubt hadn’t yet stopped grinning from their perfect prank. Darby is feigning uncontrollable sobbing with my mom. What’s wrong, my mom wants to know.

Well, Darby explains, she still doesn’t know what happened really, but Gap had called us and told us that I won a trip to Hawaii, and we had always dreamt of going to Hawaii but the money was tight so this was such a blessing. But Jason went down to the store to collect his prize and they told him that they didn’t know what he was talking about. And so Jason said, what are you talking about, I got a call, here’s the confirmation number, please give me my prize. I earned it!

And then….. (barely able to speak) Mom, I don’t know what we’re going to do, but they fired Jason! They said he was lying and rude and they couldn’t keep him on staff anymore! Why would they do this to us? What are we going to do to pay the rent?

Long silence on Mom’s part. Her voice lowers 3 octaves, gets kind of gravely. Oh no, Darby. I have to tell you something. And on her side of the phone, you can tell that the party has definitely ended.

What, Darby asks? What?

That was us, Mom explains.

You?? But it sounded so perfect. It sounded just like the Gap.

Darby, we didn’t mean for this to happen. I have to go, I’ll go to the store now and explain. I’ll get Jason his job back.

And at this point Darby realizes that having my mom go into the Gap and start spouting about contests and trips to Hawaii and me being fired might actually get me fired, so we let them know that the jig is definitely up, and we’re just kidding!

You try to play a joke on Jason and Darby, we’ll play it right back!

(But in a way where reality is much better than the fiction we were selling, of course.)

Today Darby and I went to a beach in the Palisades to resume our quest for sea glass. It was once again very rewarding. But that’s not what this post is about.

While there, I saw a deflating Valentine’s Balloon out in the ocean. And while it really annoys me to have to clean up after other people, I have a hard time leaving trash in a beautiful place, so I waded out, fished it out of the water, and then made a long trek until I could throw it away.

But that’s not what this post is about either.

What this post is about is another story that the Valentines Day Balloon Incident reminded me of. I was at Leo Carillo beach, one of my very favorite spots around. And I was walking along the beautiful tidal pools, enjoying myself, when I saw it. Trash.

A plastic bag, even. And immediately I thought of sea turtles mistaking it for jellyfish and choking to a slow painful death alone in the depths. And of course, I couldn’t let that happen. If there’s one thing I am – it’s sea turtle friendly.

So I waded out in the water and fished the plastic bag out (see why the balloon story reminded me of this!?). I was feeling quite heroic and pleased with myself, and then I took a closer look at the baggie I was holding.

It was holding something. This baggie.

A tampon.

A used tampon.

Now, I couldn’t just drop the baggie back in the water. People were watching and now I would be the litterbug. It was my trash now, by the unwritten rules of trash disposal. This was my used tampon, now. (Though not used by me, obviously.)

So I held it this unexpectedly horrid package away from my body as far as my arm would stretch and made the long trip to the trash can. And it was a long trip, with Darby laughing at me (and curiously unwilling to help me out by taking the bag.) And finally, I freed myself from my newly acquired burden.

That’s what I get for trying to be the hero, I guess. People who want to be heroes should take note of the fact that the hero very often ends up dead.

Or holding a bag with a used tampon in it.

(Who in the world puts their used tampon in a bag and tosses it in the ocean, anyway?)

This was a picture that was taken right after I discovered what was in the plastic baggie.

And this was me making my way to the trash bin as quickly as I could!

On her album before Funhouse, called I’m Not Dead, she has a pretty great song called “Cuz I Can.” It’s a trash talking, in your face kind of song, and she includes a pretty devastating “burn” when she declares:

I can fit your whole house in my swimming pool.

Now think about it. That’s rough. Because most people don’t even have swimming pools – and you certainly don’t need a swimming pool. So it’s a clever insult because she’s essentially saying, “That thing you need for shelter and all that? Yeah, well it’s smaller than this total luxury item I happen to have just for kicks.”

Bust!

Now there’s something very interesting to me about a twist that our lives have taken. Because of the move to LA, and the high cost of living here – and our desire to live in a nicer part of town for the schools – we live in a very small place that frankly isn’t very luxurious at all. It costs twice what our wonderful house on the east coast cost, but really it’s almost like we’re living like college students. Which is okay, for the most part. You have to pay your dues for something you really want. And it’s nice knowing our kids won’t be spoiled.

But we live in a very ritzy area, and because of this the kids have friends who come from very wealthy families. Ollie in particular is a playdate junkie, so just about every day Darby or I are heading to see the house that these people live in. And it reminds me of a quote from the band James:

If I hadn’t seen such riches I could live with being poor.

Because as I walk into these gorgeous, stunning estates with breath-taking ocean views, I can’t help but feel a twinge of something. Jealousy, maybe. But not really. I’m happy for these people. I don’t want to take anything away from them. Maybe just a thought as simple as “Wow, this would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Because really, truly, some of these places have swimming pools that are larger than our whole house.

It’s a crazy, mad contrast, really. And when we’re the ones who host the playdates, invariably a child will comment, “Wow, your house is small.” And that’s true, it is small.

But again, the smallness of this house, this whole crazy adventure, it’s just symbolic of the journey that our family is on. And just the other day Lyric said that she’s glad we have such a small house because it forces us to all spend time together all day long. And that’s true – there really isn’t anywhere else to go to “be alone” very often.

So in the end, I just shrug off that vague feeling of longing and focus on a couple of things. (1) We’re in this small house surrounded by luxury by choice, and it’s a stop on a great journey that we’re enjoying the heck out of. (2) It really is the people, not the building, that make up a home. And through that lens, I definitely have the biggest mansion around. Or at the very least – exactly the mansion that I want.

But… that doesn’t mean I don’t look forward to the day where our house will be a little bigger, a little nicer, a little less flooded, and home to a little smaller population of unwelcome wildlife.

Supposed to be. Mind you.

Because on Monday, while I’m finally writing and getting into a groove, I see that the stairs in our kitchen are no longer stairs, but instead a beautiful waterfall. Only, when a waterfall is ending up in your kitchen and down into your living room, some of the beauty is dampened. (Ha, that pun was unintentional.)

So, now my day is taken up by finding as many towels as I can and sopping up this mess, while having to talk to the cantankerous handy man that my landlady employs. And turns out the washer was messed up. Apparently that’s what happens when someone tries to secure the water pipes with packing tape. This whole house is one big lifesize version of the game Mousetrap. Monday is gone.

Tuesday, I have to wake up at 6 to make it to Jury Duty. Tuesday is a wash, and I don’t even have a satisfying civic duty performed to show for it.

Wednesday, the kitchen sink’s piping fell apart and we were treated to more water. This time, the same repairman showed up and I got to hang with my buddy again – this time it was even better though because he kept vaguely accusing me of pulling the pipe out of the bottom of the sink “because these things don’t just fall out,” and also kept saying that a whole piece of pipe was missing and “he wondered who could have taken it because pipes don’t just stand up and walk off on their own.” Really, when you need to write, having such conversations and trying not to sound defensive is a real blast.

On Thursday, the oddly burnt plastic smell that emanates from the fuse box was especially strong. For good reason, too. Because upon closer examination, it was clear that the circuits were orange and glowing. As in, smoldering. As in – fire hazard. So now I’m playing host to an electrician and his apprentice as they explain to me how our landlady has rigged up 4 units worth of electricity through one small residential electrical box – and that he could temporarily fix it but it would be sure to burn out again before too long.

Wonderful.

And Friday? Well, Friday had to be used to catch up on the non-writing things I also hadn’t been able to get to while spending so much time with all these maintenance workers. And actually, finishing the pitches for a couple of other shows.

So that leaves this week – where I’m trying to write like a crazy man and make a dent in my growing backlog. And it’s not like I didn’t get any writing done, but my output turned out to be rather meager compared to my hopes. Writing simply takes concentration that is pretty hard to muster when your house is a disaster movie.

Wish me luck.

• Two weeks ago we were up to our hips in snow. Today we were out in the ocean, bodysurfing. Yesterday we went hiking. Last night we were having a great time ice skating outside. All within 2 hours of each other.

• Xooro’s in Santa Monica. Yes, these are the most tricked out Churros you’ll ever see. Oh wait, I’m sorry. They ask that you not call them Churros. They’re premium Spanish fritters.

• Driving the 10 west under McClure Tunnel and then emerging out on the other side – on the PCH. You see the ocean, the pier, the cliffs. It’s exhilarating in a way I never want to get over.

• Randomly seeing famous people and realizing they really are just dudes or dudettes. Like Justin Bartha from “The Hangover” and “National Treasure,” eating Thai food at Cholada’s in Malibu today.  By himself. Or Jay Mohr pumping gas into his Landrover at the intersection of Sunset and PCH.

Yes, there are many reasons that living in LA is a struggle. The cost, mostly. I’m not going to mention the traffic because for me it’s no worse than most east coast highways, and often better.

But there are many reasons to love it.

Apparently Emporer Claudius liked Saint Valentine, and wanted to help him out of this little jam. But Valentine was hardcore tough, and instead of taking the easy way out, he tried to convert the Emperor. To an illegal little religion called Christianity.

Well, every Roman Emperor has his limits, and this was apparently Claudius’.

Valentine was stoned and beaten by clubs, but survived. So then he was beheaded.

Isn’t this romantic? Doesn’t this story just make you want to eat chocolates and buy stuffed bears and send a flower to the one you call snookums or baby or whatever other little names you two use which annoy the rest of us?

And yet, judging from the facebook and twitter reactions to this day, and the way it causes anguish and pain for so many, maybe naming it after some poor dude who was stoned, beaten, and ultimately beheaded is exquisitely appropriate.

And maybe the beating, the stoning, and the losing of ones head are  better symbols of love than saccharine and plush. Because while love is many things, I think one thing that loving someone always eventually is … is painful. It hurts to love someone. Even when they act perfectly. (And let me assure you, no one acts perfectly all the time. And some act as far from perfect as you can really imagine.) This is the great risk of love. One that, really, doesn’t feel worth it sometimes.

This is why some world religions teach detachment as a virtue. Detach from the things that you care about, and your pain will decrease. Because it is attachment to the people and things around you that can cause pain. This is true. (And it has application in all of our lives – because there does reach a point where you may have to detach from someone whose affect on your life has become so toxic that staying in the situation is no longer really a healthy option.)

But except for these extreme cases, let me be clear. Screw detachment. The pain is worth it. Other people – the sacrifice and the union and the making each other stronger than we ever could be alone – well that’s the best stuff of life there, isn’t it? And to run away from this because it hurts sometimes is weak. You know what else hurts? Living life in this world. And you know what? It’s completely worth it, too.

But I think it’s healthy to keep that group of people – the ones that you’ll suffer through pain for – to a rather smallish size. A Pearl Jam song that I’ve been loving lately, “Just Breathe,” states:

I’m a lucky man to count on two hands the ones I love.

And I’d say that’s just about right. I mean, really love. The “suffer through the gates of hell into the bowels of that unholy kingdom and back for you”  love. Find these people – the ones you can count on two hands – and treat them right. Stop always asking whether you’re getting what makes you happy out of these people. Instead, make totally sure you’re doing everything you can to make them the best, strongest people they can be.

And then you will be happy.

Beaten, stoned, and occasionally beheaded, maybe.

But happy.

What the rains also brought along with them was large waves on the beaches. And what those large waves donated to the cause was lots of stones and treasures from the ocean – right up onto the beach. You can see in this picture – what is normally an almost completely sandy beach is covered with stones.

Darby and I went for a walk on these beach yesterday – it’s right where Topanga Canyon meets PCH, so basically the closest beach to where we live – and were amazed to find lots of sea glass. You know, the kind of glass that’s spent so much time in the ocean being tossed and turned and eroded that it’s now smooth and downright beautiful. There’s a life lesson in there somewhere. (And no, it’s not “pollute all you want, nature will turn your trash into joy!” although you have to admit, this is one case where littering really does pay off.)

Today, we took Lyric and Ollie because we thought they’d love looking for sea glass. I mean really, there were very large amounts – it was very exciting.

Ollie didn’t want to narrow his search to just sea glass, so he found some other very valuable gems.

Softball? Check. Tennis Ball? Check? Golf Ball? Check. Check. Crab claw? Check.Cool Rock, Piece of Brick, Piece of Pottery? Check Check Check. Snail Shell, round thing? Got them. As you can see, it was a very good harvest.

I, however, was something of a purist, wanting to collect only the sea glass. When I said this, Lyric pointed out to me that I would probably make an exception to that rule if I saw ancient gold coins. And yes, I had to admit that she was right. But part of me just liked the idea of having a bag full of nothing by sea glass – and part of me was afraid that rocks and stuff like that might crush or crack my precious cargo.

And by the end of the day, we had together amassed quite an impressive collection. Mostly whites, greens, browns and light blues – but even  some of the relatively rare cobalt blue. (Yes, we looked up the rarity of colors online. White is supposed to be the most common, but we found more greens.)

Here are some pictures for your viewing pleasure. Yes, there are probably a few too many images. But we are proud of our sea glass collection and I want to be sure you see the beauty for what it is – incredible!

1) I think some restaurants should experiment with selling “meal plans,” like they do at colleges (and in certain theme parks like Disney World.) You’d basically have people sign up for a number of meals a week at a discounted price. And make the deal only work at non-peak hours, like Tuesday nights or times when the restaurant is kind of empty anyway. I think you’d have more people coming through your restaurant so that would make up for the discount you’re giving, and you’d have people who would sign up and then not show up for their meal so you’d get them to pay for essentially nothing.

2) I think Netflix needs to start offering their own Redbox style automated machines! If you’re a member of Netflix, you simply return your current dvd to the box, and – for free – it pops out the next dvd on your queue that they have in stock. Skips the mail process. Makes them more competitive with their only real threat right now (other than downloads and streaming, which I think they’re doing pretty well with), saves them money on postage (since they are the ones that pay for it, both ways), and rocks for us, the members of Netflix.

3) I have a neighbor here in Topanga whose name is Ursula Schneider. And yep, she’s from Germany. I think that’s a pretty perfect German name, and may have to use it in a screenplay some day.

4) Somebody needs to build an UNDERWATER ROLLERCOASTER. It could go through plastic clear tubes and all throughout some amazing underwater scene with live sharks and maybe the city of Atlantis. Seriously, imagine this. You’re going up the incline higher and higher and higher into the sky, and below you is just water. Then you go over the edge and down straight into a tunnel that goes underwater. How amazing would this be…. and why hasn’t it been done yet?

5) I’m surprised that more theme parks haven’t copied Disney’s Space Mountain idea – the indoor, dark roller coaster. It’s really amazing. The only other indoor coasters I can think of are all Disney too – Matterhorn and Aerosmith’s Rock n Roller. I guess you could argue for the Mummy ride at Universal, though that’s more of a hybrid dark ride with some coaster elements.

6) Speaking of Disney, they are making a waterslide on their cruise ship that circles you around outside the ship while in the air. I think this is a great idea, but why stop there? I want the waterslide to be clear again, but to plunge you down alongside the boat below the water, and on one side of you you’d see observers in the ship watching and on the other – the open ocean, lit up with strong lights! How amazing would that be?

7) I enjoy themed restaurants. I want to see one called Abducted Appetites, or something like that. You go in to the lobby, which will be designed like a cowfield or something suitably remote. When it’s your turn to eat, something theatrical happens with bright lights and shadows of aliens and UFOs, and when that’s over, you’re transitioned into a room that looks futuristic and other-worldly, like you’ve been abducted and now you’re onboard the mothership. The waiters and waitresses will all be dressed like they’re not citizens of earth, and the food and drinks would all appear to be from other planets. I would eat in this place, and greatly enjoy it.

If I were a shark, I would always swim up to people, bump them gently and then jump out of the water, “Air Jaws”-style. You might think this would be cruel, but no. I wouldn’t be hurting them at all, I’d simply be giving them an amazing story to tell for the rest of their lives. I’d be doing them a favor. (If you’re reading this and you’re a shark, feel free to start doing this – I promise I won’t be upset with you for taking my idea.)

I’ve always been an idea guy, bubbling over with excitement for “oh wouldn’t it be cool if…” and then that leads to more and then I’m constructing a framework from that simple idea in my head and wanting so badly to see it created and real outside of my head.

But to get an idea so that it’s outside of my head, very often you need other people. Most notably, you often need other peoples’ money. And that’s where the commerce and the sales come in.

In the past week or so, I’ve had to pitch two television series, one reality series, two features and a whole business that included pitches for 8 different products. That’s a lot of pitching.

And I think I’ve done pretty well.

For the business, I met with investors on Monday night, and I came away knowing they were impressed. It’s such a nice feeling knowing you impressed someone – and in a good way. Here I was, basically asking for thousands of dollars based on me and my ideas, and I made such a good case that they’re basically asking “where do we send the check”? Okay, so not that exactly – but they’re eager to get going. But that took a ton of work. I had to put together a presentation, gather all the information for the presentation… and much of that, quite honestly, was boring. The initial ideas were exciting. The reinforcements for the idea were tedious. But the ideas alone wouldn’t have impressed these investors. They had to see a foundation. A structure.

So again, I’m learning more and more that the creative life is one filled with flashes of wonderful inspiration and satisfying creativity, but without concentration on tedious things that take discipline, it’ll rarely move forward and become real enough for other people to enjoy, too.

805 Saint Cloud Road
Bel-Air
California
USA

Dear Friend,

You may not know me, however I have happily found you via the means of the
internet. My name is William C. Smith, I am 17 years of age and I am
calling for your help quite desperately. But please, let me tell you
quickly about how my life got flipped and turned upside down, putting me
in the desperate situation you find me in today.

I was born and raised in the suburbs of West Philadelphia, USA. I spent a
lot of my time on my school playground, generally chilling and acting all
cool. I also loved to play basketball outside of the school. However one
day, whilst doing this, a couple of guys who were upto no good started to
cause trouble near my house. I got into a large fight, which scared my
mother greatly. Because of this, she suggested I move to the quiet town of
Bel-Air in California to live with my auntie and uncle. The taxi ride
there was long, however the licence plate and comedy dice in it kept me
entertained. Upon my arrival, I thanked the taxi driver and settled in
with my new family.

4 years have passed since that day, and all has been fine until now. My
Uncle Phil and Aunt Viv have recently seperated due to Aunt Viv being
unfaithful with Geoffrey the butler. My cousin Carlton has entered the
world of narcotic drugs, and the family has collapsed. My mother died last
year due to a vitamin C overdose, leaving me genuinely homeless and
without family.

However, my mother left behind a large sum of money (Approximately
$650,000USD) which is currently in the hands of the family lawyer. I can
only access this money by paying the $3500 access fees as I am under the
age of 18. If you were to help me raise these access fees, I would be
happy to compensate you with $150,000USD of the money I have been left.

Please, if you can help me out financially then I would be grateful beyond
recognition. All I need from you are the following:

Full name:
Address:
Marital status:
Tel/Fax number:

Once I have these I can then put you in contact with our family barrister,
Barrister Jazz Jeff. He will see you through any legal proceedings that we
may need to withdraw the funds, and also confirm to you what needs to be
done. He is trustworthy and a good friend of mine.

Thanks, and may God bless you.
William C Smith

Pearl Jam’s “Just Breathe”
The guitar work reminds me of “Dust in the Wind,” which will always be a personal favorite. And then the vocal performance and lyrics bring a tear to my eye. I think Pearl Jam just keep getting better with age.

Listen

Only 99 cents on iTunes

Glen Hansard’s cover of Britney Spears’ “Everytime”
I love this song by Britney, actually – always have since the first time I heard it. But now, performed by Glen Hansard and with the spare guitar and violin arrangements, I think it’s absolutely incredible.

Everytime

It’s 99 cents on iTunes.

Dashboard Confessional’s “Get Me Right”
I’ve always been a fan of Dashboard Confessional’s overwrought emotional delivery, and I feel like I’ve found my artistic doppleganger in this song.

Get Me Right

The whole album is only $8 on Amazon

Radiohead’s “My Iron Lung”
Admittedly, I’m more than a decade late to the party here.  Somehow I never really paid attention to Radiohead’s amazing album, “The Bends.” Which was a mistake, but one I’m making up for now. This Beatle-esque song deserves to be listened to… again and again and again.

My Iron Lung

Buy the whole album on Amazon, where it’s only $7.

Brandi Carlile’s “Before it Breaks”
Brandi Carlile is one of those “no matter what is going on I want to listen to her” kind of artists for me. I adore her music. Her new album is my favorite so far, and “Before it Breaks” highlights everything I love about her – her unexpected melodies, her raw delivery, her amazing dynamics, her “intensely personal yet highly relatable” lyrics…

Before It Breaks

Buy her album here – best $8 you’ll ever spend.

Someday I really want to be a part of a jury. Oh well.

You see, I always try to get to bed at a decent hour when I have to wake up the next morning, but my nervousness at not getting enough sleep the next day keeps me up later and later, just lying in bed, thinking “If I fall asleep now, I’ll get 7 hours of sleep. If I fall asleep now, I’ll get 6 hours of sleep…” and on day the number scale until I’m measuring the amount of sleep I’ll get not in hours but in the severity of the headache I’m sure to have.

I really detest it!

(There are strange exceptions to this rule. If I’m waking up early to travel, for instance. Or for something really exciting. This would make one think that “It’s all in my head,” which I myself have tried to convince myself of, but it makes no real difference in the way it all happens.)

Tomorrow I’m reporting for Jury Duty. Now since I’m something of a courtroom buff, this is actually something I’ve always wanted to do. I want to get all 12 Angry Men in that back room and see how it all goes.

But what I didn’t bargain for is having to report by 8 AM. With LA traffic in the morning, I should basically leave now. That’s just not right to expect people to get to a court by 8 in the morning. Why not a more decent hour, like 10 – when the blessed double digit kicks in and makes every one feel more human? I mean, the mood I’ll be in will likely be grounds for a mistrial should I actually convict anyone, being so sleep deprived and grumpy.

8 AM.

(And if I fall asleep right now, I’ll get 6 hours, 45 minutes…)

PS. What if I were on the jury for the trial of Michael Jackson’s doctor? That would be strange.

The Pink Starburst is the undisputed King of Starbursts. The Yellow is the slow half-prince who’s kept locked in the basement. I say this not just based on personal likes, but on observing bowls of Starbursts at parties. At the end of the night, it’s filled with just Yellows.

Things that are beautiful are often dangerous. And things that are dangerous are often beautiful. And yet, dangerous doesn’t have to equal bad. And sometimes something is so ugly that it is also beautiful. And what does all this mean? Who knows.

There is nothing more annoying than kids pulling on your shirt constantly throughout the day yet nothing more comforting than that same kid slipping his hand into yours while he walks beside you. Kids: The Power to Annoy or Comfort is Within Their Hands.

Doritos really had a bunch of crappy ads for the Super Bowl this year. Was that wasted money? It seems like it.

Celebrities are just people. I would say better looking people, but take away the professionals who paid to make them look great, and I’m not sold on that. I would say people with more issues, but that’s not really true either. Maybe they’re more charismatic, but then there are normal people who possess a lot of charisma too. So I’ll just revert to: Celebrities are just people.

95% of people are going through life like the kid at the 7th grade mixer who desperately wants to be asked to dance but doesn’t want to look that way.

Once people hit about 70 they’re like High School Students hitting their Senior year. All bets are off and they can say whatever they want now, they’ve earned it.

It’s especially great when all four of us can agree on a place that we love visiting. We all love biking along the beach in Santa Monica. We all love Disneyland. We all love Lake Arrowhead. And watching a Disney premiere at El Capitan. And visiting the Santa Monica Pier, and Malibu Creek State Park.

But then there are places that we’re split over. Lyric and I love hiking Temescal, but Ollie and Darby aren’t always so eager. Ollie and I love a good museum or zoo, while Lyric and Darby aren’t so sure most days.

And until today, the Getty Center was a place that only I seemed enthused about visiting. I adore it. It’s a showcase of architecture, and once you exit the automated tram (driverless) and reach the top of the mountain, it feels like you’re entering a city on a different planet. I love the gardens, the view of LA below, the waterfalls and waterways. The Monets, Manets, Degas’ and Cezzanes… I’m always eager to get back there, which is met with uniform “what else can we do”?

But today, with Darby otherwise occupied, I made an executive decision. Lyric, Ollie and I were going. I told them they couldn’t complain because I was taking them to Disneyland tomorrow. They were good sports about it.

The Getty has a pretty fun family section, where we got to build our own replica of a sculpture.

And Lyric and Ollie always have fun climbing on the stone wall. One time we played duck duck goose on this yard, and two children looked like they wanted to play too. I encouraged Lyric and Ollie to invite them to play. These kids accepted, and proceeded to only choose each other, meaning that now they were playing duck duck goose and we were just kind of sitting in a circle watching them. It was a bit of a bummer actually.

But then the completely amazing, unexpected joy of the day revealed itself. We were handed a schedule and a “Family Drawing Hour” was listed. Curious, I signed up. Lyric thought it would be boring. Ollie thought we’d be drawing a bug, like we did on one of his field trips, so he was excited. We gathered at the appointed time, and it started out pretty boring. But then the magic started. We were all given our own palette and thick paper and taken to see specific paintings. We sat in front of the paintings, and were encouraged by three excellent artists to improvise off of what we saw. They gave us all fancy new colored pencils. Lyric and Ollie were really into it – it’s such a joy to see your kids completely invested in creativity.

Ollie especially impressed me just because – while Lyric often draws for long periods of time during the week – I was sure Ollie would lose focus. He didn’t.

The first painting we studied is below. We were encouraged to pay attention to how the artist took a fairly plan portrait and then really pushed it past the bounds of convention with the colors and styles in the rest of the painting. They then told us to similarly improvise based off of what we were seeing.

Here’s my take. I really had a lot of fun drawing it. It’s been so long since I’ve really just taken lots of time to draw, and it felt really good and inspiring.

Here’s Lyric’s. She really took the encouragement to play around with colors and take it in a new direction to heart, and I think she demonstrates a lot of creativity here.

And here’s Ollie’s. I love that he’s not bound to trying to be “realistic.” There’s a real Picasso quality to what he drew. And it was so cool because he spent the entire 20 allotted minutes perfecting his piece.

Here’s the second painting we studied. It’s a Cezanne. For this piece, they let us use watercolor pencils – a brand new 10 pack. And we got to keep them. I suppose I should make it clear here that this was free, as is admission. You just pay for parking. Unbelievable.

Here’s my take. I didn’t even notice that I zoomed in on the face, yet it was the most striking aspect of the image for me, so it makes sense that I did. I love the sadness, the weariness that the original painting captures.

Here’s Lyric’s. She has a really cool style going on. When the docent commented that it’s obvious Lyric draws a lot, Lyric said, “Yes I do spend a lot of time on it.” And when I asked why Lyric had her woman looking wistfully to the sky, she explained that that’s the way she likes to draw all eyes, because it looks cheerful and cute.

And Ollie’s is really impressive to me because it’s obvious he’s not simply drawing what he thinks a woman should look like – head, body, arms, legs… but he’s drawing what he sees when he looks at the painting.

So, should you be in the area on a Saturday, check if there is a Family Drawing Hour. As the hour came to a close, Lyric and Ollie wanted to find more things to draw – it was a very inspirational event for all three of us. Highly recommended, and an excellent memory.

I do believe, actually, that at this point in my life, hiking is one of my very favorite things to do. It’s just so uncomplicated. You walk. You look around you. You see something you hadn’t seen before. You think. It’s quiet. You push a bunch of things that have been bothering you – but which you’ve been ignoring – around in your head, re-organizing and re-arranging them until something changes. You’re not quite sure what, exactly, but something has changed. And then, oh, do you hear that bird call? That’s beautiful. I mean, I really like it. I love hiking with someone too, but it has to be someone that I invited along and that I know and like. Because today while I was hiking back up the mountain I caught up with a lady and decided to just stop and wait until she made her way off the trail. Because I was having a moment, you see, and she wasn’t to be a part of it.

I have even deeper thoughts about the outdoors and hiking and what it means and how it contributed to the success of Avatar the movie. (Yes, I really do.) But I’ll have to write that another time because I’ve got other things to attend to.

But somehow we manage to make that two day one night vacation seem much longer. It’s pretty magical, to be honest. We have our little traditions.

For instance, we always stop off at the first sign of snow. Because when you’re driving up a mountain, there will be no snow at all, and then boom, there’s snow. It’s pretty cool.

And the kids will always get caramel apples at the chocolate store. Delicious, amazing caramel apples that make me wish I weren’t allergic to apples.

And we’ll each get a bag of duck snacks for 50 cents a piece and feed the flock of ducks. Lake Arrowhead has a really fun assortment of ducks. Brown headed mallards, and these cool black ducks with white heads and then also the elusive “puffin duck,” at least that’s what we call it because it looks like a puffin and mostly swims underwater.

And of course, the main event – we go sledding! Now you probably cannot tell from these pictures, but this snow is deep. Really deep. In fact, if normal east coast where I’m from snowfall could be compared to wading through a creek, wrestling with the snow on this mountain is more like trying to survive a rough ocean surf. It’s exhausting to be walking on the surface and then take a step and woosh you’re in the snow up to your hips. And then you have to climb your way out only to take 3 more steps and boom down you fall again.

(And yes, by the way, the kids can sled with just their snowpantsed bottoms, the snow is so slick and the inclines so steep. So can I, for that matter, but… well)

…A tradition I’d care to avoid but can’t seem to help but make regular is wearing only blue jeans during these adventures. Blue jeans that are soaked as if I swam in them when we’re done.

Because it is an adventure. My children like to avoid other people at all costs when we do family events. They don’t want to see or hear anyone else while we find the perfect sledding hill. This normally results in an expedition into the incredible steep and rough (and deep snowed!) wilderness. And maybe it includes me trying to leap from snow covered boulder to snow covered boulder like I’m Bear Grylles in a vain attempt to make it across a pretty wide creek. And maybe that ill-fated plan ends with me in that creek, unable to climb out because of that deep snow. And maybe all that ends with me changing on the side of the road, hoping no one catches a glimpse. Maybe.

But it’s all worth it. Like I said, totally magical, unlike any other place we’ve been in our lives, and just a really fun experience. So, for what is really the shortest vacation possible, it remains on the top of the Latshaw List of Things to Do.

Which isn’t really the case. No, it’ll take more than generations of systematic cultural genocide to silence me. In fact, I’ve simply been busy – a combination of needing to spend time with my family by day and having hard fast essential deadlines to hit by night which are keeping me up far too late and leaving little room for much else. I’m like an innocuous version of Dexter – instead rather than killing people I’m writing scripts and doing website competitive audits. On second thought, I guess that makes me not like Dexter at all. Well, we do both have brown hair.

I promise to write more soon.

And incredibly sad.

I never knew the history of the California Mission system, but it’s basically the west coast’s version of Plantations and slavery. Instead, we have the missions and the native americans pressed into labor.

The original idea was to “convert” the native people – Spanish soldiers accompanied Dominican Padres as they establish 21 missions on the coast of california. Now if you’re thinking a mission is just a church or even a large cathedral, you’re underestimating what it truly was. It was a fully functioning farm, tons of acres, barracks, wineries, cattle, and a sprawling gathering of buildings.

To convert the natives, the padres convinced them to move into the mission barracks and work for their salvation. The original mandate from the king of Spain was that after 10 years, once the natives had been properly “civilized,” the Mission, the crops, the livestock, and all the buildings would be turned over to the native people and the Padres would return to Spain or move on to other fields of harvest.

That never happened.

In the end, what did happen is that the animals that the Padres introduced destroyed the vegetation and native animals that the local indians thrived on, causing them to starve. The diseases the Padres brought with them proved to be murderous on the poor native population. And so, weakened and sick, the indians were willing to give up their own culture and try to assimilate to the strong, healthy Missions. After all, their Shamans weren’t able to stop the disease, yet the Spanish were not dying.

While they thought they were getting protection and salvation, what they got was forced labor and captivity. And their children were removed from parents at the age of 5 and housed together in dirty, unhygienic barracks. In other words, the complete and total breakdown of their way of life.

Of course, many of the natives were not happy with this arrangements, and they tried to escape. But the Spanish soldiers would hunt them down and return them to the Missions. They were never free to go.

As a person who has faith in Christ, this totally and completely angers me – truthfully as I was learning it I wondered if maybe people haven’t messed this whole Christianity thing up so badly that anyone could really be blamed for wanting to reject it. I mean really – in my opinion this is almost worse than slavery in the south. In this case it was the people who were supposed to be spreading the gospel enslaving people using the threat of damnation in order to enrich themselves.

That’s just about as bad as it can get.

Not being a Californian, I never knew this happened at all. And I’m really upset about it.

By the way, if you want to read a pretty good rundown, go here and search of “Missions” to find the section. it’s heart-breaking.

But everytime I thought, “Yeah, Jason, you need business cards!” I would kind of freeze because confusion would set in. “What should the business card say?” And there in lies the problem. Should I have it say that I’m a writer? I mean, yes, I’m a writer. But a business card that just says “Jason Latshaw, Writer” just has always struck me as odd. It sometimes seems to me like “Writer” isn’t really something you should call yourself all the time, like Prophet or Genius it seems like something you should allow other people to label you more often.

If I got a card from someone that said “Writer,” I’d be slightly unnerved for some reason.

And then there’s the fact that often people ask for my card because of graphic design services that I could provide. Or maybe film editing. Or even marketing strategy consultation. And just try, I dare you, to put all those labels on one card, because everyone including me will inwardly laugh at you. You might as well add Professional Dream Interpreter while you’re at it.

So yes, this endless conundrum has left me cardless for quite some time, which has been a shame as I’ve met people who have asked for a card.

Until today, I figured something out.

A business card with – just my name and contact information. No label. Just me. I can be whatever the person wants me to be, or nothing at all. No logo, no title.

It’s so simple, really, that I wonder why I hadn’t done it earlier. I the back of the card I left white in case the people I meet want to write something themselves, like “Genius” or “Awesome Guy.”

Everything that just the day before seemed so futile now looks like something else completely, like when you’re a child and all the shadows in your room while you’re trying to fall asleep are most definitely monsters plotting to devour you and then your parents turn on the light and, oh, that’s a toy chest, and that’s just a chair, and over there, that’s a coat rack shaped like a giraffe (don’t ask.)

So yes, today, things looked kind of up. In more than one area. So we are all wise to remember that life can kind of be a roller coaster, or a trek up the mountain, where at one moment we might be pretty high, but then there might be a plunge in the future. Just accept it and strive to be the best you through it, because actually plunges can be really fun granted you don’t have your eyes closed and jaw clenched in terror.

Just lift up those arms and scream.

Now this is kind of complicated, because in reality to break into music or movies and stuff like that, you do have to do work for free. Even when you’re established, you write on spec – speculators, like gold miners – in the hopes that people will pay you for it eventually.

So you can’t really make some kind of blanket rule that “you’ll never work for free,” because you almost have to start out with a freebie. But here’s the thing, doing free work for an established producer or director is one thing. But doing free work for someone who has less clout and contacts than you do makes absolutely no sense at all.

And yet you wouldn’t believe how many people come along saying, “You do this work for me, and I’ll share the profits with you once I sell it!” But this is at the base of things a very bad proposal, because I could just write something all by myself for free, and then enjoy all of the profits once I sell it. So why should I work on spec on someone else’s idea and then only share in half the eventual money (and, let’s not even mention the real truth, which is that this thing probably will not sell, because spec scripts rarely do unless you’re an established name.)

All this as intro to a wonderful email I received out of nowhere.

I am looking for a co-partner on an animation movie project I have been putting together for quiet sometime now. I started writing children book and later hoping to make it into an animation production for children ages 3 to 16 years.

I have semi completed the movie trailer for marketing purposes to find movie producer. And the book it’s on his way. However, I am looking for a co-partner to come in and see what I have accomplished so far. This project is a great incentive for someone like yourself who dream of being a part of something exicted that can take your career to the next level in the entertainment industry. I have finished with the executive summary and business plan. This animation project teach children self confidence and gain their self esteem to achieve greatness. Please if you are interested and seeing more do not hesitate to contact me at my contact info listed below this email.

Now, already, I knew this was bogus. I googled the person. She’s a real estate agent in Kansas. And she’s been putting together this project for “quiet some time now.” And I don’t really know what the semi-completed movie trailer looks like, but I’m guessing it’s not impressive.

But still, I’m curious, so I write her:

This sounds very interesting. What would you be looking for a partner to do, and what is the compensation?

Now I already knew that there would be no compensation, but I enjoy seeing exactly how people are going to say this, and how they’ll spin it like it’s a good thing for me that they are willing to pay more for a six pack of Chicken McNuggets than they are for my imagination and writing.

And this person didn’t let me down.

First I want the co-partner to help me with the following:

1) children illustration books

2) children comic books

3) publishing and editing

4) promote the animaton characters through books and promotional items to get children familiar with the animation characters.

Depending on the success of the books and how well we did with promotional toys and so forth – we will introduce producer to invest in making the story into a feature movie – from there – base on how the movie did ask for a spot on TV miniseries to teach kids about good self esteem and confidence within themselves.

I know it’s a lot upfront but I have to start somewhere. and a co-partner who come with a  creative mind will be able to input his own ideas to start building up little by little a goodd foundation for children to learn themselves.

I am going to attach a copy of my Executive Summary along with a press release. Currrently our company website is under construction.

For compensation the co-partner will gain a percentage on every promotional item sales, and also royalty in the movies. If you are looking to get paid now – this project is not for you.

A percentage!? Wow!? Hey, can someone whip out an abacus for me. What’s a percentage of zero? What percentage, you ask? Oh, I don’t know, because she hasn’t specified. Oh, wait, no matter what percentage it’s still nothing? Oh, then in that case I’d like to correct her last sentence a bit.

If you are looking to get paid now, or in the future, or ever,  for this full year of work I’ve asked you to do for me - this project is not for you.

Now if this was John Lasseter, I’d say yes. but considering it’s for a real estate agent in Kansas, the answer will have to be:

Sounds great, but I don’t think it’s a project for me, based on your specified qualifications and the current reality which I occupy where things cost money. Best of luck!

To which she responds:

Thank you for your time, and please can you delete the executive sumarry and press realease sent to you.

Which can’t help but remind me of this. And in fact the entire situation – work for the promise of future monies, reminds me of this. (Fair warning, both links take you to a website where there is a picture of a girl “giving the bird,” and the writer employs a liberal amount of swear words.)

And then when you finally get in touch with that other producer, who you’d been trying to get in touch with for weeks, he has a whole new set of game-changing notes that, while smart and useful, will take a long time to implement. And it’s clear that producer 1 and producer 2 didn’t talk because some of their notes contradicted and now you don’t really know whether you should obey mommy or daddy and you don’t really feel like being the conduit to their conversations and really you’d just like them to talk and ask you what to do as a united front, as good parents do.

So that Monday deadline won’t be hit after all, unfortunately. So I guess the bigwig will have to wait at least a week before he reads my brilliance.

And yeah, all of the things that are now up for grabs were in the original treatment you sent, clear as day, and never mentioned. Of course, some things do jump off the page once you actually write it, and really the notes are smart.

But it’s just great to run a whole marathon and find out the finish line is just the midpoint and you just twisted an ankle.

But still, in case it sounds like I’m complaining, please understand, I love my job.

Must say that I am impressed b/c I didn’t realize the level of detail that can be painted in the script…fascinated so far in one page with the way you describe the scenery and can feel the setting. I’m just ignorant of screen writing I guess…was thinking more of just the lines of the characters.  I am struck by the fact that you must have such vision to communicate the story…you need an interesting story, like a novel, but also require the visual translation at the same time. Its like you have to be able to dream in multi-dimensions, and then recreate that dream on a flat surface.

Honestly, that’s just about as good a description of visual storytelling as I’ve read, and pretty cool that he got that from something I wrote, because it means it’s something I’m getting right. Also, before I started really digging into screenwriting and learning the craft I thought it was “just” the dialogue and the lines, too. But I’ve since learned that good writing is so much more than just dialogue (though I still think it’s extremely important.” Pay attention to how many scenes in a film have no dialogue at all, those scenes still need to be written and it takes skill, creativity, and imagination to do that. That’s why I’ll still call some films extremely well-written – like Avatar – even when some of the dialogue falls flat.

And today, I saw it. Actually, many “its.” That’s right, as a result of a full week of rain, waterfalls sprang up (or should I say down?) all through the valley. Real thunderous, wide, and tall waterfalls. It just about made me run off the road while I was driving.

I wish I had a picture, but, well… I was driving. But really, it was like this incredible moment because there in front of me, completely unexpected, was the full realization of a dream I literally have every time I drive through the valley. And you know what, I think that means they’ll be other dream fulfillments coming soon.

(Like the dream I always have of seeing a mountain lion gracefully rushing through the valley below while I’m hiking.)

(Or, you know, selling something soon.)

Am I the only one who finds the wedding of McDonald’s and Avatar so… odd? The two have nothing in common, (well, apart from appealing to the masses) and considering the clear-cutting that McDonald’s is responsible for (I’m not trying to get political at all), the unhealthy lifestyle they can’t help but promote, and the flat out consumerism they represent, seeing a Na’avi right next to an image of a Big Mac makes no sense to me. Maybe if McDonald’s were trying to launch some new green veggie line of food…. I think it’s just a bad pairing, like Passion of the Christ being co-marketed with Hooters or something.

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.

Yeah, that’s about right. MLK actually has a ton of great quotes, at least according to my friends’ facebook statuses, and I’ll probably collect him here at some point.

But here’s one I’d like to propose, that will hopefully stick.

Little trouble does rain make for those who are already wet.

Now don’t ask me why it’s arranged the way it is, somewhere between Confucius and Yoda. I’ve tried it other ways, and this way is the quickest, catchiest. But think about it. Getting rained on is really annoying, we seem to try to avoid it at all costs. Yet, if you’re already soaking wet, who cares? Really. What difference does it make? In fact, attempting to put this wisdom into action, I once told my friend Collin that I had figured out how to walk in the rain without any trouble. He asked me how, and I said, “Just don’t worry about getting wet, and it’s no problem.” Somehow, the wisdom had seemed… wiser when still knocking around in my head, but still, you get the idea.

And so, it was with this thought in mind that yesterday, amid a virtual LA monsoon, that I proposed that we all… go to Disneyland. Yes, because, well… since we’d not worry about the rain because we were wet, and others would be so desperate to avoid the rain all together, surely we’d have no lines. Or, as I said when selling it to my family, “It’ll be like the park belongs to us.”

Mostly because she loves me, and partially because she knows I’ve been stressed, Darby certainly squelched her own “are you crazy?”  and gamely decided that yes, of course that was a great idea.

And so, loading up with plastic ponchos and umbrellas, we made our way out. And you know what? It was a great day. Ollie was loving the adventure of it all. And we got to ride California Screamin’ twice in a row. The lines were as short as hoped, and indeed it was as if we owned the place. And Darby got her way, too – because not long after we arrived, it stopped raining and the sun came out.

So yeah, there’s a lesson for lie somewhere in this whole story. But what really matters is that we got to act like Disneyland belonged to us. And that’s a great way to end a three day weekend.

Me? Yeah, I was up on Mulholland Drive. At Terry Rossio’s “house where he writes,” for a party. Yes, go ahead and look him up. That Terry Rossio. Wrote Alladin, Shrek, Pirates of the Carribean, Zorro, National Treasure. Yeah, and he’s really very very nice. So nice, that he invited me to visit him (at the “house where he lives” in Topanga) and use his studio to record or edit microbudget movies. We talked about Topanga. You know, the way you do with people like Terry Rossio.

And he had a treehouse. Any person with a treehouse is very cool in my book.

So, all in all, a very good night.

The cast is excellent through and through, and the leads were flawless, believable, and entertaining. The title character was played by LA actress Jessica Runck, who had excellent comic timing and range to push the play from funny to poignant when needed. It’s quite a testimony to her performance that it wasn’t until late in the 2nd Act that it hit me that she was acting and that she actually had to memorize all of these lines she had been speaking. Prior to then, I was just caught up in the show and had tricked myself into believing that I was a fly on a wall just watching someone’s life.

And Doctor Snafu, played by excellent actor Isaac Wade, provided a ton of laughs.

So anyway, see it.

But the whole “meet you for drinks at some joint and try to get to know each other” song and dance? I avoided it.

This is not really a regret, either.

But now, in this career that I’m in the middle of, I’m doing exactly that. As a brilliant professor Howard Suber once said, creative types need to think of their struggle not in terms of warfare, but as a courtship. I agree. And now I guess I’m courting people. Great.

Last night, I had a date with a dude at 8 in Santa Monica. It went just fine. He’s a manager/producer for a legitimate management and production company in town. He’s young, hungry, and he loves my writing. At least that’s what he said – but of course we were on a date and he was buttering my up, right? As a friend of mine recently said to me about a guy she is getting to know: “He told me he thinks I’m incredible and he’s never met anyone like me, but I don’t know if he means that or if he just wants to make out with me. Either way, though, it’s nice to hear.”

Yeah, that’s about the same way I feel, only creatively speaking of course.

The long and the short of it is that this guy wants me to work on developing a comedy pilot (TV) and a feature script with him that he knows he can sell based on the idea alone – because (his words not mine) he knows my writing will be fantastic. So he basically wants to meld my writing with an idea that can sell itself and he thinks we’ll hit the jackpot.

I’m game.

In the meantime, during our 90 minutes together, we asked each other about our backgrounds, what music we like, we TV shows we watch, what we hope for the future, and I was continually, surrealistically struck by just how much this seemed like the dating scene I had fortunately managed to skip. Well, not really anymore, I guess.

One thing that was cool, from a confidence point of view. I was talking about how – for both of us – being able to get back up off the mat was essential since so many people in town said “no,” and only a handful had the ability to say “yes.” He stopped me and said, “Oh no, you don’t understand, that’s just going to be a short term problem for you, cause you’re lucky.”

I asked him what he meant.

He continued. “You don’t understand. I read all day. I read everything that comes through this town. And you’re better than 99% of what I read. Much better. You’ve got it. You were born with it. I know you work hard, but it’s like Kobe or Michael at basketball, you watch them play and you know they have something you could never have. I don’t know how you do it, really, I read your stuff and I just think, how does he write like this? So yeah, you’re lucky, and so I don’t worry about you. That’s why I want to work on these projects with you.”

Pretty cool. Again, not sure if he’s blowing smoke, so I’ll take it with a strong does of skepticism, but at the same time it’s not like he’s asking for any money up front or hoping to date my mom. if he’s trying to seduce me at this point (again, creatively speaking!) he’s doing it for my writing.

So all in all, not a bad date.

In case you’re wondering, though, I still much prefer a creative match that mirrors my romantic ones – friends first, and then naturally growing into the creative pursuits together. That just seems so much more natural and smooth, where you meet someone, get to like them and appreciate their talents without any pressure of some impending project that could or couldn’t happen, and then decide to try something out. But those experiences are probably few and far between.

And in closing, just a funny tidbit. Towards the end of the night, he had downed a number of beers, so he wasn’t as clear-headed as I was, having matched him with Sprites. And he referred to my script, “A Well Adjusted Boy,” as “A Well Preserved Boy.” Ha! Like it’s some creepy mummy movie or something! I still laugh just thinking about it.

I think (pretty much) all of us are subconsciously trying to make ourselves fail in what we truly want and what we truly know to be the right things – almost all of the time. Why are we relentlessly sabotaging ourselves, you ask?

Because succeeding is so very difficult.  It’s scary. It’s tiring. Actually, no. It’s terrifying and exhausting. So that part of us that just wants to be comfortable, that little baby that wants milk and wants to be cuddled and doesn’t want to face the pain, is always trying to make us avoid things that bring such extreme discomfort.

And the best plan that little baby has is to make us fail. Trying to lose weight? The little baby wants to eat what it wants to it. Trying to become disciplined with money? The little baby wants to buy whatever it wants. Trying to chase a dream? The little baby doesn’t like to face all the rejection that such a pursuit will require.

And so we are all trying to sabotage ourselves, because failure is easier, more comfortable.

But, at the same time, none of us wants to think of ourselves as failures. Because we all know that we have it in our abilities to succeed, and no one wants to admit, “I simply didn’t want to try because that’s not very relaxing.” So, in addition to trying to make us fail, we also have to fool ourselves into feel okay about it. We need to arrive at a satisfying failure that we can buy as success, or at least not view as outright failure.

One way I think we can do that is by adding too much noise to our decision-making.

Confusion, over-complications, and too much noise in general can definitely cause you to make bad decisions when in fact the right thing to do was fairly simple.  Think about a simple melody. Clear, appealing, you like it. When it’s just playing by itself, everyone can hear it. But then if you add a bunch of notes and noise and rhythm on top of that melody, you might lose it all together.

I believe it’s the same with simple decisions, and it can cause you to make terrible mistakes.

Let me give you an example.

Here’s a simple question. You are a driver for an armored truck company. Should you steal $100,000 cash that a non-profit (which raises money for starving children around the world!) has raised through a special event?

On the face of it, if you asked 100 people this simple question, (nearly) all of them would answer the same thing. No!

But I think that this simple question can get… complicated, right?

1) Let’s say that you yourself are in debt, and because of this your wife and children don’t have medical care, and that maybe even they might be hungry sometimes.

2) Let’s say that you were recently the victim of a scam that cost you tens of thousands of dollars, and nobody ever cared to bring the criminals to justice or recover any of your money.

3) Let’s say that there was a mess-up in the paperwork on both sides, and both the non-profit and the bank believe you’ll be delivering $300,000 while you have counted the cash and there is $400,000 in your truck – so it’s very likely you will not get caught.

4) Let’s stipulate that even if at some point they do figure out they lost the money, that  there is an insurance policy that will replace any lost money for the non-profit, and that the insurance company is actually famous for being corrupt and ripping off normal Joes like yourself to line their fat cat executives pockets.

And all of sudden, just like that, we’ve maybe lost that simple answer, right? All of sudden you’re lost in a whirlwind of oh no, what should I do, this is soooo confusing?

But these are loud thumpings, jarring rhythms, out of tune melodies and discordant screeches that have done nothing but wash out the simple melody of the right thing. The core question hasn’t changed, really. If you stray from that simple melody, then very likely you will make the wrong decision even though you did knew what the right thing was. But that right thing was more difficult. It meant facing your debt, and figuring out a longer, more arduous way out of your dilemma. So you tried to trick yourself into just failing without knowing it.

This can happen in so many areas in life, this melody versus noise dynamic – and people really should look out for it, constantly asking themselves, “Now is this the simple melody, or is this the noise?” While we sometimes like to overcomplicate matters (because it makes it easier to accept our failures), in truth the majority of things we do day in and day out actually have very simple melodies. Lots of noise, too, but you have to learn to filter it out. (That doesn’t mean ignore the noise, but rather to know its place. You may have to acknowledge it and do something about it, but certainly do not allow it to drown out the melody.)

Because the noise can really mess you up in the long run. Really, it can. Even though that little baby is begging you to just accept it and promising you that really, truly – I promise – it’s not really failure at all.

It wasn’t just the ratings – though they were dismal. NBC insists that they were still making money. (Which, I guess, isn’t surprising since the production costs were so low on the show.) But NBC isn’t E! Major networks should not be in the game of simply “being profitable” by churning out low cost programming.

It was actually NBC’s affiliates, which were on the verge of revolt. Apparently many of their newscasts (which are huge moneymakers for affiliate channels) had plunged from 1st to 3rd place because of the audience lost during Leno. At least a third of affiliates had decided they were going to pre-empt Leno soon anyway.

NBC blinked.

This failed experiment is very good for writers, and for creative new series.

It was meant as a joke, and of course we all nervously laughed as dutiful employees should when the boss makes one of those joke-but-not-really-a-joke-because-I-mean-it jokes.

And I’m thinking about this because – even though I have stayed busy while on the east coast – now magically as I return to the west coast it appears that the work has piled up and is all needed at once. In other words, get back to work!

The good news is that a dizzying array of people are reading my (or my and my writing partner’s) work, and remember what I said about failing at a higher stage? These are the kind of names that to even have them read you is a pretty awesome step along the way. But it’s all moving fast and I have some urgent work to complete so they have the best possible thing to read.

And I have to get back into my pushup groove. It’s hard at my parent’s house, because two large malamute dogs seem to interpret a pushup as an invitation to pounce and knock me over. At least that’s my excuse, right? But now that I’m finished at UCLA, I think I need to get myself in very healthy shape.

Whenever I return to the west coast after an extended period away, I always look forward to what surprises await me in the accumulated mail. This time I found out we paid off our car, which for some reason I thought we still owed $3,000 on. Score.

Also, just a random aside that I might as well mention in closing. I’m watching Dexter Season 3 (love it) and am wowed by Jimmy Smits’ performance. Recently, I completed a rewrite of a feature film that was supposed to have Jimmy Smits attached and looked like it was going into production this summer. Now that I saw how awesome he is, I really really hope that happens. (Because in this town, those kinds of things are promised all the time and often don’t pan out.)

Finally, 8 hours in a plane is just too long.

And that reminds me of something that’s been bothering me lately. It started with a manager / producer who likes my writing. We’ve been going back and forth about a bunch of things, and Avatar came up. I told him I loved it. He came back and said:

How does the kool aid taste? I’m kidding, don’t get me wrong. Good movie. Life changing? I certainly don’t think so.

Ask yourself, if it wasn’t james cameron and it wasn’t in 3d would you still be blown away? If yes, then cool.

It wasn’t in love with the story as much as others were. It’s predictable and been told several times (dances w the wolves comes to mind). Too heavy on the social commentary too. I like that subtle.

That’s a fine opinion, and he’s certainly entitled to it. Filmmaking is strange because it’s two things, a very subjective artistic endeavor and cold, hard commerce. Because films cost so much to make, this is almost always a reality – these two seemingly contradictory sides of the process rely on each other, even if at times it appears they war with each other.

I’ve noticed more and more of this emerging negativity for Avatar among people “in the biz,” and it confuses me since quite obviously by the most important metric of a business, Avatar is a huge success.

I think that some of the dialogue could have been much better. I see that the film borrowed or recycled from Dances with Wolves, Ferngully, Pocahontas, etc. (And I really don’t see what’s wrong with that, either.)

But here’s what gets me. It’s Show BUSINESS. Avatar has now made over a billion dollars. Should producers and managers and screenwriters and directors put aside their personal preferences and see why exactly this film is connecting so well with their audience? In a day when everyone is wringing their hands that people are staying at home and bit torrenting, or net flixing, or red boxing, or simply facebooking, shouldn’t they all be studying what is packing people into the theaters for the 2nd, 3rd and fourth times? In the NFL, if a team wins the super bowl, do opposing coaches and general managers simply dismiss the winner and say “I don’t care for their blitzing schemes.” No. Success is studied. You look for what you can apply to your own endeavors. You look for what is repeatable.

But to simply dismiss it beneath your tastes is lunacy. By the way, many people did this with Cameron’s last film, Titanic, which is the top grossing film of all time. And it seems like the only person who learned the main lesson of Titanic – which is that it’s not only 14-32 year old guys who watch films over and over again, so you shouldn’t just make movies for them – is James Cameron. Somehow the guy has now made two films in a row that appeal to men and women equally, young and old, and both have grossed over a billion dollars.

People should be looking for themes here. They really should.

Here are my best lessons learned from Avatar’s success so far.

1) Everyone will watch movies if you can appeal to them.

A strong female character goes a long way. That doesn’t mean it has to be a romantic comedy. It can be sci-fi, but women will watch and enjoy a strong, female character woven into a larger, action packed film. Avatar really has something for (just about everyone), and whole families will go and see this film together, as will that coveted 14-32 year old male, a 50 year old woman. Etc.

2. Original stories are appreciated

There is a backlash against every film being a remake or an adaptation. People want new worlds, and new characters, and new adventures. (I understand that this seems a little ironic considering how many other stories this film borrows from, but it is at play here.) Many people will go to see a Transformers movie. But yet, many people will not go to see a Transformers movie simply because it’s a Transformers movie. Many times a remake or a adaptation will actually have a very hard cap to the amount of people it can appeal to (granted, the cap may be very high) that an original film like Avatar does not have to contend with.

That’s what I have so far. I’m still figuring out some stuff on a story level, but it’s half-baked. Any one else have any ideas why it’s doing so well?

(I think obviously the technology and the 3-D have something to do with it. But really, they don’t account for the total phenomenon this has become. People don’t willingly watch a nearly 3 hours movie over and over to see technology.)