Last night I had a dream that I went to a screening of Christopher Sharpe's next movie, called DEATH MACHINE. It was debuting in Austin in a place that looked a lot like the place where Don Johnson goes to the movies in A BOY AND HIS DOG. I woke up at 6 a.m. thinking that the plot of the movie was pretty interesting and that I should write it down. But I just drifted there listening to the clock radio and in a few minutes I had forgotten the thread of it. I should start keeping a journal by the bed, instead of a stack of comics.
My Pacers are out of the playoffs for the first time in about ten years. In basketball-crazed Indiana, there is hardly a more unkind cut.
In other sporting news, there is nothing I like writing to better than a drowsy baseball game. Catching the Reds and the White Sox and the Indians on AM radio on my drive home from work always gets my gears turning.
In other writing news, I got good news about both NEW JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH from Mark Polonia yesterday as well as some good news on the progress of MENTAL SCARS for producer Richard Myles. Hopefully I'll have production stories to relate before long.
I was thinking last night that once upon a time I was too cool for Johnny Cash. Now I'm not cool enough for Johnny Cash. It's a short trip from too cool for everything to not cool enough for anything. Losing your ironic detachment helps.
Give me a yell at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.
1 comment:
DEATH MACHINE! Let's get to work on that!
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