Author: BIll True

Husband. Dad. Guy who writes things.

I can’t stand up (for falling down)

~ BIll True ~ 2 Comments

Shit.

That’s about all I can say.

Right before dinner last night, I zipped upstairs to my office to hit send on an email I forgot about.  Click, went I.  Whiz-Bang, went the message.  Pop, went my inbox.

That’s when I saw it.

It was a message from a production company executive I’ve been working with toward developing a particular book series as a mini-series for a major cable network.  I opened the message, hopeful for good news.  Good news, it seemed, had taken the day off.

From his email: Also, finally heard back from MANAGEMENT FIRM re: TITLE and there are apparently two
offers (one real, one not so much) on the table now.  Also a writer, he didn’t
tell me who, that is making a play for it…
Not great news, but at least you know what’s happening with it.

Damn it!

It sucks because mere months ago, I had checked in with the management company.  The rights were available–free and clear.  There was another producer I’d been trying to interest in the project.  Yet, though I caught his attention and he’s been very generous with his time and consideration, he’s also up to his eyeballs with his own wildly successful cable series and its impending follow up.  Go figure.

Last month, as I sat in this other exec’s (who is a really cool guy, as well) office, it occurred to me that I should mention the property and what I knew about it.  And he did sometime no one else had done to date: he pricked up at the mention of it.  He got up, went immediately over to his computer, and Googled the series title.  One peek at the Wikipedia entry, and he was in.  He was, in fact, kind of excited.

We parted with a commitment from him to verify the rights availability.  If they were still clear, then it seemed he was interested in making a offer for them.  Most important, he seemed committed to letting me adapt the thing, which would not only have been amazing fun, but a great and steady gig for at least the next two years…maybe even longer if somehow the thing could be leveraged into an ongoing series.

Not a bad position to be in, eh?

In the feeding frenzy of gobbling up rights to virtually every book, blog, TV show, and magazine article known to humankind, I was amazed when the word came back that the rights to this series–which is quite popular and well known in certain circles–had reverted back to the author’s estate.  I had, it seemed, found the golden egg that rolled under the bed, overlooked by the scavengers.  I tried to hurry.  I tried to not tip my hand too overtly.  I knew that it was only a matter of time until someone lifted the dust ruffle and discovered my little secret.

And so it came to pass.

I know I shouldn’t be upset.  I know I shouldn’t let it get to me.  And it won’t…not in the long run.  Tomorrow I’ll wake up and reset and be okay.  It’s who I am.  It’s what I do.

But today I am pissed off.  Today I feel bad.  Today I just wanna curl up and cry.

The problem is that I broke the cardinal rule of the movie business.  I am nearly as upset about that as I am about the project dying on the vine.  I feel like a neophyte.  I feel like an amateur.  I feel stupid.

The problem is that I let myself get excited about the possibility.  I built a tower of expectation, forgetting that such things are unstable in the extreme and prone to collapsing without warning.  But I built the damned thing, anyway.  And I climbed clear on up to the top without the slightest thought to the cuts and bruises I’d earn for my trouble if the thing went down.

Because it was a cool idea.  Because it coulda worked.  Because it came to me unexpectedly in the first place.  And because I’d secretly harbored a dream that maybe I would be the guy to turn this book series into a movie since I was a kid.

HHHHHHhhhhhhhhh………………………

Bummer.

Silly.

Stupid.

Me.

POSTSCRIPT:  When I got home from my lunch meeting today, I got a really nice hug & kiss from Robbye and then discovered something had come for me in the mail.  A box.  An Amazon box.  And inside, this…

Planet_of_the_apes_tv_4a871
Very cool!  But I didn’t understand.  I hadn’t ordered it.

After some sleuthing around on the packing invoice, I found a little message: To: Bill From: Mike  Happy Birthday, lad!  Feel free to do the simian step as you return to those thrilling days of yesteryear.

Huh.  Sweet!  And heads above the 4 Questions thing I recently received from him.  Whadda guy..!  Thanks, Uncle Mike!

And suddenly, between that and the nice greeting I got from my darling wife, my day started looking up.

The devil’s in the details

~ BIll True ~ 2 Comments

Okay…here’s the thing.  My friend, Mike, knows I hate these things.  Oh yeah…and I know he hates them.

Why…then why would he fall prey to one of these insipid Internet lists?  And why…tell me, God, why would he not only inflict it upon me, his supposed friend, but then announce to the world that I was one of the most likely candidates to respond to the f@cking thing!

Because he knows me better than I know myself.

And he knows that as the thing sat in my inbox, it would eat at me like acid, eventually exposing my guilt-ridden underbelly.

He knew I would cry uncle.  It was only a matter of time.

Michael…you devil, you.

———-

Okay…no more drama.  Vote Obama.

Here’s the deal.  You don’t gotta send this thing to anyone.  If you’re up for it, though, show yourself, OLU readers (both of you!).  Cut and paste the questions below, delete my answers, and put in your own.

We wanna get to know you!  According to my friend’s email, "The theory is that you will learn a lot of little known facts about those who know you."

For now, here’s my answers.

Four jobs I have had in my life

1. Grill Master and Drive-thru Wizard at Wendy’s Old Fashioned Burgers
2. City Maintenance Worker, where I painted all the fire hydrants and babysat the city sewage plant in Isanti, MN one summer
3. Salesperson and Store Manager at Radio Shack
4. General Manager for a chain of Black Hills Gold jewelry stores (even though I have never been to the Black Hills)

Four movies I’ve watched more than once

1.  Planet of the Apes (the real one)
2   The Commitments
3.  The Dukes of Hazzard (against my will)
4.  The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari

Four places I have lived

1.  Los Angeles, CA
2.  Las Cruces, NM
3   Sierra Vista, AZ
4.  In my car

Four places I’d like to live

1. St. Petersburg, FL
2. Loreto, Mexico
3. New York, NY (Manhattan or Brooklyn)
4. Moonbase Alpha before the big, nasty explosion that sent it hurtling away from Earth at apparent FTL speed

Four places I have been

1. La Paz, Mexico, gawking at a too-fresh-for-comfort skeletal arm that washed up on the beach
2. On a late-night Central Park carriage ride with my baby
3. Hanging in a near-deserted pub with my Canuck "brother", Pigger, in Thunder Bay, ON, unexpectedly tossing back more Labatts than we could count with The Beautiful Girls
4. Perched in scaffolding, 10 feet directly above Prince’s head for two hours (I coulda hocked a loogey, but I demonstrated incredible restraint)

People who e-mail me

1. Dean Hyers
2. Pete Machalek
3. Robbye
4. Scores of people who are quite concerned about my penis size and sexual endurance

Favorite foods

1. Eggs–especially my pickled ones…  Mmmm..!
2. Chipotle burritos
3. Robbye’s lentil spaghetti
4. Peanut butter slathered on pretty much anything

Four places I’d rather be right now

1. The Madeira Beach cottage
2. London, England
3. An eco-resort on the Virgin Islands
4. Snuggling in bed with my wife

Four friends I think will respond

1. Robbye
2. Diana
3. Colin
4. Barack

Four things I am looking forward to this year

1. A week off bumming around somewhere with Robbye
2. Selling another script
3. FINALLY, MAYBE getting to see Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse
4. Speaking in Seattle later this month and in LA in June

Four T.V. Shows that I watch

1. Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations
2. Medium
3. Battlestar Galactica (the new one)
4. ("Who wants a..!") Clean House (Official Member, Miss Niece Fan Club.  Mmmm Hmmm!)

Now, do you know me better?

And…are ya satisfied, Mike? [wink]

Baby in Italia

~ BIll True ~ Leave a comment

Back in June of 2002, my beloved, more than a little weary and worse for wear, took a little trip.

For ten days, she wandered under the Tuscan sun with a tour group–the "pretty and lively girl from Minnesota…so brave to travel alone."

Many stories have I heard from this trip: from it’s original non-start on September 11, 2001, to her high-adventure train trip to catch up with the tour group after her flight to Italy was delayed, to the story of the crowd of concerned folks gathered around an injured bird in Sienna.  I love hearing them, mostly because of the way her eyes light up and her whole body fills with an effervescence that nearly bubbles over when she talks about the place.

There are times, I admit, that a little pang of jealousy tweaks at my heart as she talks.  Not because I am jealous that she’s gone there and I haven’t, but because I wish I had been there with her.

I know, I know…the Universe does as the Universe does, and everything unfolds for a reason, and yada yada.  It’s all good.  I also know that someday we’ll go there together, and we’ll have a beautiful time as we walk the cobblestone streets of cities that captured her heart so thoroughly.  But you get it, right..?

One day, while noodling at my other keyboard, I was picturing Robbye clomping through fields and along dirt roads in those cute and clunky boots of hers.  I envisioned her in Rome and Florence and Sienna soaking in their sights and their sounds and their essences.  I played out little encounters–some funny, some frustrating, some so quiet and full of awe they’d move you to tears.  I saw her in her own "room with a view", tossing open the shutters on her first morning there and standing in an open air window, basking in the promise of adventure and romance in Bella Italia.  I was experiencing it all as a kind of montage…my baby in Italia: the movie.

And it struck me.  What my fingers were forming was a theme.  A "cue" they call it in movie composer-speak.  It was the music that accompanied Robbye as she moved through these little scenelets.

So I took a few hours and finished it, this little musical cue.  It was fun because I had been wanting to do something a little more "orchestral".  Most significant, it was important because, for a change, I felt like I was there with her, sharing the Italian experience in some way.  I felt a little less jealous and a little more present.

As usual, the thing’s got its problems.  I listen to it now, and they scream out to me: Fix me!  Fix meeeee!!!  That is, however, for another time.  When I am able to get a newer and better Mac and a new keyboard and such.

For now, it’s good enough.  And Robbye likes it.  When she first heard it, she threw her arms around me, tears flowing freely and said, "It’s really good!  You really get it!"  Equally cool, another time, when the music had popped up on my iTunes rotation, she walked into my office and said, "What’s that?  It’s beautiful."

Before I could open my mouth, though, she nodded to herself.

"Oh…yeah."

And as she turned to leave, she smiled.  Effervescent.

All that said, I present to you…

Baby in Italia

Italianwoman_2

on the photo: Best Friends, taken by Robbye in Sienna, I think.  Of the many amazing images she took in Italy, this is among my absolute favorites.  BTW–you can see more of my wife’s amazing work at her website.

If I may direct your attention to the right side of your screen…

~ BIll True ~ Leave a comment

FIRST…

You’ll need to start by scrolling down a bit. Yes…yes… Stop!

See it?

I am finally shouting from the virtual rooftop what I should
have shouted out weeks, if not months, ago.

 

Obama1
BARACK OBAMA ROCKS.

He has my support. He
has my vote. He has my hands as he
strives to help heal our country and then realize the America all of us have the secret
audacity to hope for, but rarely give that hope the voice it deserves.

Not that it matters greatly, I suppose, whether I announce
my support for him or not. I’m just one
guy—not even really a blip on the RADAR screen of the blogsphere, much less the
world. One thing that Obama’s campaign
has done, however, is to take me back to my junior high days in Mr. Clough’s
Social Studies class when the guy from the filmstrip assured us that every vote
counted. That everyone’s voice mattered
in a democracy.

Every voting cycle I cast my ballot. It has, however, been over a decade since I
have done so and felt either a.) like my vote really mattered, or b.) like I
was voting for someone who truly had an interest (much less the ability) in giving our country the simultaneous TLC and tough love for which it
desperately cries. For over a decade, as
I stepped from the polling station, I’ve crumpled up my “I voted” sticker and 86-ed it with a cynical huff.

I believe that this year will be different.

Today, former candidate John
Edwards said, per a Reuters story by John Whitesides, “What he brings to the
table is the capacity, number one, to unite the Democratic Party. Number two, to bring in new voters, to bring
in people who haven’t been involved in the process over a long time and to get
people excited about this change."


I think you nailed it, Mr.
Edwards. Yet, I would also add that he’s
also brought people who HAVE been involved, but in whom the light of hope is
all but extinguished, back into the process, as well. Because we finally have someone to crow
about. Someone we don’t feel bad or slimey
about when we invest our time and money and trust. Some who, for once, is not merely the lesser
of two evils.

Not that I believe any one person represents the magic
bullet or that Nirvana is just around the bend. I believe, however, that Obama’s vision and
integrity and passion—and his audacity to hope—will (to borrow a quote from
Zach on the night Robbye and I announced our engagement to the kids) “revive this
bleeding dog of a family.”


If you will join me in this improbable quest, if you feel destiny calling, and see as I see, a future of
endless possibility stretching before us; if you sense, as I sense, that the
time is now to shake off our slumber, and slough off our fear, and make good on
the debt we owe past and future generations, then I’m ready to take up the
cause, and march with you, and work with you. – Barack Obama, February 10, 2007

You go, Obama. I, for
one, am beside you all the way.

BACKSEAT

~ BIll True ~ Leave a comment

Hey, all–

If you’re up for some great cinematic hijinks, check out my friend, Josh Alexander’s, new movie, BACKSEAT!

BACKSEAT won the Audience Award at the Austin Film Festival the same year RUNAWAY won the Narrative Feature Award.  Josh, who is an exceedingly cool cat, and I became fast friends.  I was quite tickled when I discovered that his movie–which receives nothing but raves-is finally getting a well-deserved release.

It is good, dear readers, to see good things happening for good people who do good work.  Go, Josh!

BACKSEAT opens in the following cities on these dates:

  • March 28 – The Quad Cinema in New York City
  • April 4 – Landmark Opera Plaza in San Francisco
  • April 4 – Landrmark Shattuck Cinemas in Berkely, CA
  • April 11 – Landmark Dobie Theatre in Austin, TX
  • April 18 – Landmark Varsity Theatre in Seattle

Hopefully, there will be more cities/dates added soon.  I will keep y’all posted!

Meanwhile, whet your appetite by either visiting the BACKSEAT website or watching the trailer, courtesy of YouTube:

 

http://www.youtube.com/v/UdjVO8NLO5M&hl=en

Lazarus

~ BIll True ~ 3 Comments

Remember this?

No longer will I call thee "Poop Phone".

From here to eternity, I dub thee "Lazarus".

Turns out the phone, itself, was fine.  When it went in the drink, it was only the battery that shorted out. 

Don’t know why it took me so long to check that out.  Well, for one, I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer.  Second, when I fished the thing outta the pot and rinsed it off, it seemed as though the screen was shot.  Oh yeah…and none of the keys worked either.

It’s been sitting in my desk for months.

Being forced to use the Ancient Phone I HATE has been absolutely grating on me.  I mean, let’s get this straight…ol’ Lazarus mighta taken a poop bath, but APIH was and always will be, quite simply, a shitty phone.  I don’t wanna piss off any cell manufacturers, so I won’t mention the brand.  All I can say is using the thing wears my nerves RAZR thin.

To top it off APIH hasn’t been doin’ to well lately.  Feeling it’s age.  So it’s old and shitty.  Ack!

Facing the prospect of having to sling significant jing at a new phone, I decided to see–just see–what would happen if I put Robbye’s battery (it’s the same model) in my phone.  And, well…lo and behold…  Hot damn.

Next thing I know, I am running out to my local ATT store for a new battery.  $23.00 later, I slip that bad boy in, and guess what?

Lazarus.

Umm…anyone got any Lysol spray?

Catching up

~ BIll True ~ 1 Comment

Dear friends,

Hello.  How are you?

I am fine.

Thank you for stopping by today.

What’s going on?  Oh, man!  Where do I start?

Remember this l’il thing?

Headhurts1

Apparently, I should be provide a little more explanation when I post something like that.

Reminds me of the time when I posted this (really bad) poem I wrote as a kind of nod to Pablo Picasso and Surrealism a couple of years back and promptly left town for a week to the lands beyond cell service coverage.  Oh, my…  Can you say voice mail messages?  Took me over a week to convince everyone that I was neither losing it nor suicidal.

Friends and family.  God love ’em, but sometimes it’s hard to be a writer trying to strut his stuff in their line of sight.

Oh, well…occupational hazard.

No one said it was gonna be easy.  Trying to understand a writer guy, yet trying to care about him at the same time, that is.  It requires a whole new compass than most folks are used to.  North doesn’t always point north.  What’s worse is north changes, sometimes shifting unexpectedly and for inexplicable reasons.  So you can’t obtain a compass for the purposes of getting a good read on us writer types.  You gotta build ’em from scratch.

Oh, well…all guys like me can hope is that the rest of you think it’s worth the trouble.

That said, from the "What I really meant" department, comes this:

I had a lot going on.  I tried to write it all out in a sort of "let’s catch up with Bill" missive, but there was so much to say.  It gave me a head ache.  My creative response to said cranial distress was to let the long, rambling post go and simply (and, I thought, humorously) "depict" my feelings over trying to describe the myriad plates I had spinning at the time.  The rest, as they say….

In truth, everything was fine, though I admit that I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed of late.  Hyperactivity, with rarely enough energy to tackle each zone of my crazy/beautiful life with the gusto, creativity, and passion it deserves.  There have been many days, in fact, when I’ve felt like I’m losing ground everywhere.  And even moments when I’ve felt like an utter failure.

Then again…that’s nothing new.

Occupational hazard…of being me.

But the strike is over, and far from my previous fears, Hollywood seems to be welcoming me with reasonably open arms.  Yeah..check this out–

  • It’s not out of the realm of possibility that RUNAWAY could see some sort of distribution in the near future.
  • The management company I would like to work with seems genuinely interested in working with me.
  • I am in very active talks with a very reputable production company to develop a real, live Hollywood movie (a proposed budget in the mid-eight figures was tossed onto the table yesterday).
  • I have a good bead on (and have been highly recommended to) a great agent at a major agency.
  • INCARNATION, all of a sudden, is getting a lot of attention and seems to be taking on a life of its own.
  • As I plan on making a pilgrimage to the Tower of Tinsel in the next few weeks, people seem to really wanna meet with me.  For the first time ever, I think that my dance card will be full–with real and meaningful meetings to show for it.  Yikes!
  • If I play my cards right, I’ll have a first draft new spec script (which already has parties interested in reading it) ready to show the world by the end of March.

Holy crap, right?  Makes my head spin.  Mostly in a good way.

SagePresence is going equally well.  People are really responding to it, and we’re getting opportunities to speak and train all over.  The biggest problem there is there’s only three of us.  At some point in the VERY near future, we will have need to hire someone (or somones) to help us manage this thing.  Especially as word about what we’re doing spreads outside the Twin Cities, as it’s beginning to do so.  It’s quite amazing and scary cool.

Funny how this professional speaking thing so powerfully supports the screenwriting career, and vice versa.  Equally, how much fun I’m having going around and talking to folks.  Having such an immediate, profound, and positive impact for people–seeing it on their faces and hearing their stories of trouble and triumph–really makes my day.

And home…  With respect to that, let me simply say that Georges Seurat would be proud.  As I am proud of us.  All of us.  Yesterday, I noticed a piece of me was calm in the face of an otherwise tubulent day.  That piece was the one associated with home.

It was a bit of a surprise, as honoring this Great Love, this great family, and "putting it together" hasn’t always been the most calm of affairs.  But yesterday’s discovery spoke volumes.  It spoke of healing.  It spoke of health and happiness.  It spoke of peace and prosperity.  It spoke of adventure and accomplishment.  It whispered in my ear, visions of the future that brought a smile to my lips.

Today, my head doesn’t hurt.  Nothing has changed, except for today I feel a little less overwhelmed by this crazy/beautiful life.  That’s all.

Because I know head aches come with the job description.

Husband.

Dad.

Partner.

Speaker.

Friend.

Family.

Screenwriter.

Superhero.

None of ’em easy.  All of ’em worth it.

Dear friend…I hope you are well, too.  I look forward to catching up again in the near future.

Best to you and yours.  Let’s get together soon!

Yours TRUE-ly,

Bill

Two years ago…

~ BIll True ~ Leave a comment

We were painting what was then my bedroom.

In a house that must have felt like a ton of bricks on her soul, I was trying to create weight-free oasis.  Someplace that could feel hers.

We’d already moved well beyond talk of "possibly" moving in together.  The "ifs" were long gone.  Our conversations landed solidly in the "whens" column.

Then again, as we were working and dancing and singing and joking and smooching, I knew something she didn’t know.  Or at least I thought I did.  Turns out she knew it was coming, but not quite at that moment.  Come to think of it, I didn’t really know it was coming quite that day, myself.

Yet, it wasn’t a concept to me.  It was a certainty.  And only after all was said and done, could I share with her, for example, why I was so quiet, like "such a freak" all New Years Day, just a month earlier.  It was because, if I opened my mouth, it would spill out.  There simply was no holding it back.

But back to painting.  It was another day like New Years.  Every brush stroke seemed to whisper it to me: "Say it.  Say it…"  As the walls came to life, they called out: "Tell her.  Tell her…"

We were taking a break.  We were tired from going at it (and I don’t mean "in the good way") all day.   Exhausted, in fact.  We were sitting on the couch having one of those intense and yet quiet conversations.  You know…the ones you have with…well…the one.

And I am sitting there, and I am thinking, "Oh, my god…  This is the moment."

Plans be damned!

Hadn’t showered in two days?  Who cares?

Dressed in dirty, smelly painting clothes?  Whatever…

I got down on one knee, and I started talking.  I have no idea what I said.  I am guessing that I was babbling.  I am guessing Robbye thought I was babbling, too.

But I caught her attention when I said this…

"Will you do the honor of marrying me?  Will you be my wife?"

There was about a three second span where I thought she might say, "What the hell are you talking about?!?"

Turns out she was a little stunned.

In the next second, though, I got my relief.

"Of course!  Yes!"

At this point, I would say that the rest is history.  But there is one more movement to the story that not many people know.  Not enough people, anyway.

Robbye, Lucy (her dog), and M.P. (her cat) were staying the weekend at the house.  Kind of a "trial run" for the pets.  See how they would fare in the insanity…not to mention with the three other animals already running the joint.

Robbye didn’t have kids before all this.  For the most part, she’d lived on her own.  Robbye, her dog, and her cat…in a little pink house in St. Paul, in an apartment that was about the size of my living room.   Needless to say, life was a lot quieter.  A lot simpler.

Okay, then…on top of that…add…you know…THE HOUSE.  THE HISTORY…  Ack…

When I talk about our coming together, I tell people that Robbye is the bravest person I know.  Yes, because she said "yes" to the "Will you marry me?" question.  But more significantly to how she answered the next question to tumble out of my mouth that day.

"Now, will you just stay home?"

To which she answered, "I guess I’ll need to get some clothes."

I tell Robbye that the three smartest things I ever did in my life where these:

I called the girl, I asked the girl, I married the girl.

Two years ago today…  Proof positive, Baby.  Proof positive.

Rsy

Cabin Fever

~ BIll True ~ Leave a comment

No, it ain’t the 20 below mornings of my youth, where 40 below wind chills were as commonplace as a Britney Spears mental breakdown, but it’s been dang miserable here.

We did have that one anomalous 40 degree day on Sunday, but it doesn’t count.  Whereas I am certain God believes he’s tossing us a mid-winter bone, he ain’t.  Days like that are more pain than pleasure.  They simply serve to remind us of what we will NOT be enjoying for the next 60 days or so.

I am sitting here bundled up in my bathrobe, a space heater running at my feet, trying to keep icicles from forming around my nostrils as I breath.  And earlier, I had to bundle up all Ralphie-like and trudge over to Holiday for half-and-half.  Because…?  Neither car will start in this frozen wasteland.

Somethin’s gotta give.

In my head, the constant sound of Sam Cooke crooning, "It’s been a lo-o-o-o-ong/Long time comin’ but/Change is gonna come/Oh, yes it is."

I’m with you, Sam.

Change is gonna come.  Hell, yes it is.

I am also tired of this strike.  I know, I know…I’m supposed to be all solidarity, fist in the air, Hollywood in flames, and all.  And I am, for the most part.  I’ve been "pencils down", and stayed away from talking to anyone and everyone, out of respect for my WGA bretheren.  (and, admittedly, fear for making the wrong move and being black-balled for the rest of eternity)

And I know that I am a,) not the only person in the world affected by this strike, and b.) many people have it far worse off than I do.

But I’m tired of it.

I haven’t said much (read: anything) about the strike because there’s enough crap flying around about the whole fiasco.  No one needs my two cents, or likely cares to hear it.  And, you know…what I said in parentheses a few paragraphs ago.

But I’m tired of it.

Yes, the writers need to get paid for I’net and other digital media.  Yes, people are being buttheads.  This has dragged on so long, however, and gotten so nasty, I am afraid that real, honest-to-goodness recovery will be years in the future.  That, my friends, I further fear will bode worse for guys like me than it will those already firmly ensconced in the industry.

We’ll see.  I am playing Punxsutawney Bill, and poking my head out of this foxhole (though only in appropriate circles) just a smidgen, over the coming days.  See whether anyone notices or I get my head blown off.  If you read my professional obit. in Variety any time soon, you’ll know it was the latter.

In the meantime (and as usual), no one sums it up better than Jim Henson’s Muppets…

http://www.youtube.com/v/wKhtO8k0ILg&rel=0&color1=0xd6d6d6&color2=0xf0f0f0&border=0

Keep warm, all.  Like my bro-in-law sez, "Think flip-flops and margaritas."  Meanwhile, I will continue to experiment with the power of positive bitching.  How’s it working so far?