Weekly Round-Up

Has a whole week (+ one day) actually gone by since my last Weekly Round-Up post? I can't believe it. I also can't believe it's only 11 months until Christmas. Didn't we just have Christmas? Sheesh.

Last week in my very first WR-U post I said "...And that made me think it might be fun/useful/possibly entertaining if I dedicated one day a week to shed some light on what I'm doing and what's really going on inside my head." That could be a problem, 'cause I'm beginning to think there's not much going on in my head. My first clue? I can't remember what I did this week.

Let me think...Monday was a holiday but I worked. On something. I'm sure it was important. Maybe some graphics? Oh, I was trying to figure out how to update the menu bar on my website. I want to add a "services" section to pimp all the different things I do to earn a living. Photography, graphics, writing, producing...that sort of stuff. I was hoping I could handle it myself but I can't remember how to do the CSS (I think that's what it's called). :(

Tuesday was inauguration day. I watched that for most of the day...while I worked...on something. I think this is a sign that I need to make daily to-do lists and calendar everything I do. Otherwise I am going to believe that I sit at my desk only to be abducted by aliens for 8 hours a day. I celebrated Barack's first day as President Obama with a free dinner at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse (yes, I always remember the food)...

This does not look nearly as good as it tasted. And it wasn't exactly free...it came with a snake oil salesman shilling a you-can't-possibly-lose-on-this investment opportunity. Evenso, it was worth it. The food, not the investment.

Wednesday...what happened to Wednesday? I think I did an ad. Or was that Thursday? That reminds me. I went to my neighborhood library this week. There was a woman sitting on the bench just outside the entrance with what appeared to be a baby in her arms. She was feeding it applesauce. And talking to it.

I was yakking on my cell so I stopped outside the entrance to finish the call. That's when I took a second look at the woman on the bench. There were a couple of teddy bears seated on either side of her and three individual open applesauces. And the baby in her arms wasn't a baby. It was another teddy bear. And she was talking to all of her bears. And feeding them. Showing them the love that only a mother can give. My first thought was 'how sad.' But my second thought was 'she looks really happy.' Taking care of her family. A simple life...

Thursday I was working on a TV pitch...have I mentioned the pitch before?...I still can't talk about it. I can say that the Italian made lunch on Thursday after making an incredible dinner on Wednesday. This time I took a picture of the meal...

I am now in love with the mozzarella cheese that comes in little balls. There's two of them near the bottom of the plate. Yum. Yum. Yum.

Friday I worked on the pitch some more and then on a graphics job for the Berlin Film Festival, along with some other stuff to be determined.

This morning I got up really early - 7:30am early - to drive to Palm Desert for a weekend visit with my sister, brother-in-law and niece, Kristy. They're here from Canada for a horse show. I took a bunch of pictures of Kristy jumping her two horses and some of the other riders. I forgot to bring the cable for my camera so luckily I can't post them...I say luckily because they show my total lack of prowess in timing horses going over jumps. Turns out riding them is much easier than shooting them. I have one more day to get it right. And I will.

It was cold and rainy when I left LA. And about 40 miles west of my final destination it looked like this...
I was really glad I brought long-sleeved shirts...until I got to the show grounds and began sweating like a stuck pig. After Kristy's class (she placed 2nd and 3rd!) we went to a Mexican canteena for lunch. This was the table after we were done...

And Larry fixing up the tip...

Love that picture.

And Kristy...
Just know that the key to being a great photographer is having the ability to reach inside the subject's soul. Mission accomplished.

Back at the barn and on the phone with her friend Josh back home in Canada...

She's been on the phone at least half the time I've been here. I can't wait 'til her parents get this month's cell phone bill.

After the show I took Kristy to Foster's Freeze...

Yes, I ate the whole thing and it was scrump-dili-icious.

And then there was the religious experience on the way to the condo...

...maybe because we are staying in the PGA West residences where they are holding the Bob Hope Classic this weekend.

Our gated entrance...

And this guy is staying in the condo above us...

This is Chez Reavie. He's a pro golfer on the PGA tour. I'm guessing he endorses Titleist. He's 27 years old. Last year he earned over 1.4 million dollars in prize money.

Sheesh.

So, what am I doing?

Obviously not enough.

And what's going on in my head?

If you can figure it out, please...please...let me know. Consider this my cry for help.

This post began with steak and it shall end with steak...

Yup, tonight's free meal. This time without the spiel.

Terry Kath

*Note: Practically giving away a TK print here.*

I am a huge fan of Terry Kath and believe that he was the heart and soul of what was great about Chicago. His death 31 years ago today remains one of the most tragic (and useless) in rock'n'roll history. Especially since he was about to record a solo album that we will never hear.

Terry Kath

1/31/46-1/23/78

Robert Lamm and Peter Cetera talk about Chicago and the loss of Terry Kath in one of the strangest rock'n'roll news/interview stories I've seen...



This is one of Terry's last recorded performances. Not the best quality, but worth it for the guitar solo...



I'm missing Terry Kath.


You can learn more about Terry Kath and the 47 other musicians in my tribute book, Everybody I Shot Is Dead.

Peter Bardens

Seven years ago today, keyboardist Peter Bardens succumbed to lung cancer. I believe I mentioned him in one of the recent Mick Fleetwood posts as Peter is the one who 'found' Mick playing in a house down the street from his and offered him a gig.

I photographed Peter when he was with his prog rock band Camel. I had a good time hanging with Camel when they blew through Vancouver. I didn't realize that Peter had moved from the UK to Malibu ten years after I moved here from Vancouver. I wish I had ran into him down here. He was a cool guy.

Peter Bardens
6/19/45-1/22/02

In case you are not familiar with him, he's the one playing keyboards (duh) and introducing the song on this video...



Note: It feels kind of tacky to put this on a memorial post but several people have told me I should let you all know that most of my music photographs that I post on this blog are available to purchase as prints. So I am now putting a link on the name of the musician so you can easy-click to see what's available...and check out more photos of them. My apologies if this feels like an advert - it's not meant to be.



You can learn more about Peter Bardens and the 47 other musicians in my tribute book, Everybody I Shot Is Dead.

Nothing

I feel like Seinfeld. This is my post about nothing. That's right. I got nothing. Except a really great Italian meal in my belly that was cooked in my kitchen by a real live Italian guy*. Damn, I shoulda taken a photo of it to post. (The meal, not the Italian guy.)

I also had a glass of white wine which indeed gave me a buzz. Yes, I am a cheap drunk. I can get high from the bottle being on the table. Wait....it's not too late to take a picture of the bottle of wine...hang on a sec while I pull it out of the trash (actually I already saved it from the trash and put it in the recycle so I'll get it from there).

Oops. That looks like I'm drunk. Time for a reshoot.

There, that's better. Looks like I'm the Jimmy Page of photography.

If you look closely at the right side of the bottle, near the bottom, you'll see some food trash stuck to the bottle. Thought I'd point that out just in case you thought I was bullshitting about taking it out of the trash. Which proves even when I do a post about nothing, I give you the real story of nothing.

Maybe I should take my clothes off so I'll be wearing nothing while writing about nothing. And maybe you should take your clothes so you can be wearing nothing while you read my post about nothing.

As you can see, I am still on my mission to completely implode my blog. After my insanity post a couple of days ago I lost about half my readership. I expect the remaining three of you will be gone...right...about...now...

One last thing before you go...there's a story attached to the clock that is barely peeking out from behind the bottle but I think I'll save that for the next time I post about nothing. Too bad you won't be around for that.

P.S. Since I mentioned Jimmy Page and put him in the tag, the least I can do is throw a picture of him up here...

By the looks of it we were both drunk at the time.

Uh oh, does posting this photo make this whole post about nothing suddenly about something? I hope not. I like nothing.



*In the interest of fairness I must clarify that Italian guy is Tyler's twenty-something friend visiting from New York.

Beat

It's not like I didn't know it was coming. As a matter of fact, I had a whole week's notice. And, actually, I instigated the thing.

Not only was I prepared - I tidied up the house, went to the grocery store, did a full spring cleaning in the bedroom, cleaned up all the loose bits in my office including get through almost three of my four boxes of crap I have to deal with - and then, unlike what happens when I'm leaving town, I even had one day of peace.

But all of my preparation mattered not. Life as I know it was over at around 9:20pm last. That's when this arrived at my door...

Meet Pumpkin.

She is the puppy that Jaimie and I rescued from an Oakland shelter as a service dog to protect Jaimie and help deal with some of her new-found disabilities since her surgery. Unfortunately, Jaimie can't handle the training of a young dog while she is recovering from recent setbacks that have occurred since her August brain surgery.

So, I sent Tyler up to the Bay Area on Sunday and he returned with her last night and am now in charge of training her to do things far beyond the call of duty. On my own. With no help from professionals. Mainly because I can't afford the super-duper training folks. Can't be that hard, right?

Night # 1 I had Pumpkin in my room and Drama was in Tyler's room. I figured that was the only way to get some sleep since they really love to play together. Wrong. I ended up taking Pumpkin out front to pee a few times between 10pm and 2am. Then I got to listen to whimpering for Drama by the door. I put her in her crate for a while until she decided she had to be with Drama, circa 3am. I gave her her bully stick, which distracted her enough that I could get some off and on sleep until she was running circles in my room by 6:40am. Then I took her out again, on the leash out front so as not to get Drama riled up. 'Cept he already had a paw protruding under Tyler's door.

By 7:30am I got up and put them both in the back yard and managed to catch an hour of uninterrupted sleep. Yup, I'm beat.

Here's some of today's playtime...

It starts our nice and calm.

Then Drama shows his ball.

Pumpkin would like to have the ball.

And she'll shark-bite his leg to get it.

Woof.

Pumpkin's vampire move.

Where's my ball?

I'll trade you this nifty leaf for my ball.

Whatever.

That was fun.

After that I did leash training with Pumpkin. She was too tired to pull on the leash and was happy to sit whenever I stopped...even when their was a cat trying to annoy her from across the street. I figure I'll have the basic training done in a couple of weeks. Then it's on to the hard stuff.

Dream On

Martin Luther King. A true rock star. A man with a dream. And how appropriate that we are celebrating his birthday the day before Barack Obama is being sworn in as the 44th president of the United States.

Here is Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech (well worth the 17 mins)...



This is a great day, and a great time in general, to think about our own dreams.

Although I think a dream is useless if it just remains a dream. So, I'll say this is a great day to make a plan. A plan to turn our dreams into reality. Dreams are pretty easy as they only require thought. The plan takes a lot more effort. But now that I think about it, a plan is also useless if it just remains a plan.

So, I'll say once we make the plan, today (and/or tomorrow and the next day) is a great day to enact the plan. Enactment is the hardest part. I guess that's why the enactment of the plan is where most of our dreams are derailed. Then we become an "I shoulda, coulda, woulda" person. I don't want to be one of those. Do you?

Dream, plan, enact. Dream, plan, enact. Dream, plan, enact.

The Firehouse

On January 17, 1994, the Northridge earthquake destroyed the Firehouse that served the Studio City area. Fifteen years and one day later, a brand spanking new station celebrated its opening. And since they were offering up free hotdogs and firehouse chili plus a look at their hoses, I was so there.

How 'bout that axe?

Maybe a little overkill for slicing cake.

The firemen were also in charge of setting up folding chairs...

...as more neighbors showed up than expected.

These guys were watching the ceremony from behind the recruiting table.

Nothing cooler than a guy in uniform...except maybe a guy on stage.

Inflatable firemen?

"I think it goes that way." "Nope, it's that way."

I know there's some eats under the foil. Feed me.

The Rose Bowl got a Stealth fly-over. The Firehouse got a helicopter fly-over.

This fireman got high.

The good old days.

This baby will set you back $1.1 million...firemen not included.

Hosed.

Inside the engine. Lots of gadgetry.

A bit messy, but cozy.

More gadgetry.

I'm surprised this truck hasn't shown up at my place.

Okay, I asked what each of the boxes referred to...and now I can't remember. The red one indicates flammability, the white one means don't use water, and the blue one has something to do with health. Can't remember the yellow. And I have no idea why the sticker is on the truck when it's something they look for on a building so they know how to approach the job-at-hand.

Inside the truck they have three computers and a bunch of meters for testing chemical levels...

...and, of course, the ability to watch the Cardinals whoop the Eagles.

iPhone Polls

Okay, unlike yesterday's successful attempt to implode this blog with my insane guess what's on my desk game, today's is serious.

I can't really explain why I'm doing this because it's an idea that's in its infancy. But it is important and I would appreciate everyone participating.

First question:



Second question:



If you have any questions or want to add something please do so in the comments section of the post.

THANK YOU!!!

Weekly Round-Up

I am sitting at my desk in my cozy home office thinking about where I've been in the world (metaphysically), where I'm at in the world and where I'm going in the world. This is something I pretty much do 24/7, or at least I should say consider 24/7. My place in the world and what I can do to improve is always floating around somewhere in my cranium. And that made me think it might be fun/useful/possibly entertaining if I dedicated one day a week to shed some light on what I'm doing and what's really going on inside my head. Hmmm - I wonder if there should be a warning label attached to this.

So, here I am, behind my desk, eating a peanut butter and jam sandwich on completely unwholesome white bread (is there any other way to have it?) and drinking decaf coffee. I figured Friday would be a could day and started thinking of titles but then realized that wouldn't work because there will probably be an "honor post" showing up on a Friday sooner or later. I checked the calendar and sure enough that would be next Friday when I will be remembering one of the greatest guitarist who ever lived...and unfortunately died...way too young.

Okay, so this is going to be a sort of weekly round-up that will appear either on a Friday or Saturday or maybe Sunday, and will hopefully morph into something that has some sort of structure where I will impart anything and everything personal to me that you may or may not give a shit about. But, hey, it's my blog and last time I checked the constitution there was still that thing called "freedom of speech." And of course, there will be a photograph.

As a matter of fact, I think I'll start with that, so you can get to know me a little better.

Before I saw the picture, I thought my desk was pretty neat. Ooops. This weekly round-up thing may be more revealing than expected or wanted. Okay, we're going to play what's on the desk. Feel free to start by clicking on the photo so you can see it bigger and then make a list of each numbered item, guessing what it is and then you can read my list and see how many you got right. (This is going to be the end of my readership - I'm now wondering why I am tanking my own blog...oh well)

1. The plate that held the pb&j sandwich which is now residing in my belly. Yum.
2. My decaf coffee - still drinking it.
3. My Wacom tablet - very helpful for working with photos and graphics.
4. Ah...video tapes that contain footage of a very cool project I'm working on that I can't talk about yet.
5. My Tivo remote - yes, I have the TV on in the background for company but pay almost no attention to.
6. My groovy new MacBook Pro thanks to the continued support of Cucumber Rob (consider that a shout-out, dude).
7. Where my ass is right now.
8. This morning's empty O.J. glass.
9. My portable video camera that I'm using for B-roll on #4.
10. Obama water - seriously. They're selling it at 7-11 for a buck-fifty-nine. It tastes optimistic.
11. My in/out trays that I recently put there in an effort to organize my office - still working on the organization part which is a story in itself.
12. My very amazing Nikon D300 - the very camera that took the Mick Fleetwood pics, the New Year pics and the camera that saved me from barfing when I took the shots of Jaimie's brain surgery wound being undressed.
13. the Apple bag I cover my new computer with before I put it in my Incase when I take it out for a spin. My computer is so new they haven't made the hardshells for it.
14. Yesterday's mail - I guess I should move that to the inbox tray.
15. Netflix DVD. Danny Boyle's Sunshine. I'll watch it sometime this weekend. Along with North by Northwest...love that movie. Last night I watched This Film Is Not Yet Rated which was nothing new to me but was cool and very revealing. I recommend it.
16. The little wallet that carries my DL and credit cards (which I no longer use unless it's an emergency).
17. A DVD of a graphic client's movie that I did artwork for. I'm expanding my business to do movie trailers so I'm going to have my editor (Tyler) do a mock trailer of it as a sample. I need to give it to him.
18. A plush toy of the Cheshire Cat that is now tailless because I gave it up to Drama.
19. A portable file box with current jobs and stuff I need to deal with such as accounting and filing.
20. My gold star paperweight that I've had since 1979 when I finished my first book Starart.
21. Business cards and an escaped DVD mini tape.
22. Pen/pencil cup.
23. An Oriental lamp that I inherited from my mother's Palm Springs condo when I was charged with moving her stuff out while she was in S.A., circa late eighties.
24. An ashtray from that same condo. It contains matches (for candles and barbecue lighting as I don't smoke and some of my recent fortune cookie fortunes...let's see..."You will continue to take chances and be glad you did" - first part is true, while the last part remains to be seen..."Your luck will soon be at a high point" - hope this isn't it..."An enjoyable vacation is awaiting you" - more like hiding from me.
25. One of those rock coasters with two heads-up quarters on it.
26. Two external hard drives - there's a third that is currently on my dining room table.
27. My scanner that most recently scanned the backstage shot of Donny Hathaway. More to come from that baby.
28. Stapler.
29. A John Wayne coaster that unlike the rock one is absorbent.
30. Earbuds for my iPhone which you can't see because it was taking the pictures. The earbuds are now in my ears because I just finished talking to Jaimie.
31. A very cool Nixon watch that I stole from Tyler.
32. DVDs that I need to check what's on 'em.
33. A hair clippy.
34. A piece of paper with one note on it that I have just recylced. Nevermind, it had some notes on the back about money Tyler owes me.
35. A blank CD.
36. There are two 36s, both a crumpled paper towels.
37. Mini post-it pad.
38. Bookcase.
39. Hard drive case chillin' on the floor.
40. Printer with some large format paper.

Whaddya think? TMI? Not exactly what I intended to post. So much for the round-up other than the couple of things that I threw in the list.

And now I am way out of time. It's almost 4pm and I've really been slack today. I didn't wake up until 10am today 'cause I worked late last night. Then I ended up procrastinating over at The Comeback Girl (how cool is that Obama photo?) after she tipped me off to my bad BUY MY BOOK HERE link. Thanks for that. And somewhere in there I managed an hour-long meeting that could actually be considered as productive.

Yup, I'm going to do more round-up stuff tomorrow because there are things going on here that I can't really talk about but I'm dying to tell you...sort of.

15 Years Gone

This is the third memorial post of the week. That's three too many.

Today marks the 15th anniversary of Harry Nilsson's passing. Which is a complete drag on so many levels, not the least being that he had just finished vocals on an album that we will probably never hear. Wouldn't one more Harry Nilsson album be an incredible treat?

Okay, enough of the sadness. Harry was a celebratory kind of guy. Here's a photo I took of him on February 15, 1979 (well, it was probably around 3am by the time I shot it so that means it was the 16th) celebrating at the Voormann's - a few days later both families were on their way to Malta for the filming of Popeye.

Harry Nilsson
6/15/41 - 1/15/94

Below is a reprint of one of my favorite stories that happened while I was madly trying to finish writing Everybody I Shot is Dead to meet my print deadline. I originally posted it on June 19, 2007. It's definitely my best Harry Nilsson story.

Do You Believe In Ghosts?

As this blog is my witness, yesterday I was writing the text to go with my Harry Nilsson pictures.It was a tough write because there was a lot to say in very little space, but I finished it. And it started me wondering what really happened to that last album he had finished the vocal tracks on just days before he passed away. I thought about trying to get in touch with my friend who I knew Harry through, but then I was thinking, there's really no time to do that. And besides, I was pretty happy with how the text finally came out. Then last night Harry was in one of my dreams but I've been so tired lately, I'm not remembering the details of my dreams when I wake up. But he was definitely present. I know, I know, it's not uncommon to dream about someone when you've just been focused on them for seven hours.

Today I had appointments with both companies that are doing the scans for the book. While I was driving there I got a phone call from one of my movie clients asking something about a previous job I'd done for her. A couple of seconds into the call she said my voice was garbled. We hung up and she called me back. It was still garbled, even though I could hear her perfectly. Then I got another call and the same thing happened. Okay, I need to get my cell phone fixed.

After all my meetings over the hill, I dropped by Sprint - the store near my house where I knew they had while-you-wait repair service. I go in only to find out they closed the repair counter down because there wasn't enough traffic. They gave me a piece of paper with listings of a bunch of repair places and circled the second one of the list. I don't know why they picked the second one when the first one was as close, or closer.

I drove the 3 miles East on Ventura Blvd and pulled into the parking area that was overflowing with cars from from the local gym, thinking I really need to go to my gym. Fortunately, there was a reserved spot open in front of the cell phone repair shop. (Of course there was...I have a parking fairy, but that's another story). I walk in the shop and notice two guys sitting behind the service counter. The guy on the right asks what he can do for me before I even reach the counter. The other guy was online and talking to a guy leaning on the side of the counter. I tell the guy helping me that the mic is not working on my phone. He asks to see it and immediately informs me that he probably doesn't have the part, but he'll look it up.

How am I doing at dragging this story out? Pretty good, eh?

So, while he's tending to that, the other guy turns to me and asks if I know how to spell the name of the restaurant "Pasche." I gave it a shot - P-a-s-c-h-e - but they didn't think that was right and my guy was ready for me with my prognosis so I turned back to him. He said they didn't have the part and couldn't fix my phone. Shit. But the store in Encino could probably fix it since they were a corporate Sprint, whereas these guys were independent and weren't provided with a lot of older (2 years) parts. I then go out to my car to get my list to confirm with him which store it is.

When I come back in the other guy happily reports that they found the restaurant. It's P-a-c-e. "Oh, Pace," I say. Yeah, but it's called Pashay. Does it have an accent on the e, I ask? He shows me on the screen. Yes. And then calls the restaurant. While my guy is calling the other Sprint place to make sure they have the part, I overhear that last part of the other guy making a reservation. I thought he was doing it for the other customer. I wasn't paying much attention until, out of the corner of my ear, I heard him spell N-i-l-s-s-o-n and say it was for four.

I glanced at him and when he hung up the phone I made some smartass comment like, "So, I'm invited to dinner?" as the spelling of the name sunk in. How odd, I thought, as he joked back, "Sure, dinner's at 7:30." Then I mumbled, "You don't happen to know Harry. do you?" "Excuse me?" "Sorry, I just heard you spell Nilsson. Just wondered if you knew Harry."

"I'M HIS SON."

"No shit." As I looked at him a little closer. Of course. He looked a lot like him.

"Yup. Harry Nilsson is my dad."

I immediately went into my "Oh my God, you're not going to believe this but I'm doing a book and your dad is in it..." spiel. I don't think he believed me at first, until I started filling in the details with evidence that I did actually know his dad. And then he had lots of questions, as did I...like "whatever happened to the album he was working on when he died?"

He was as freaked out as I was that I had just been writing about Harry yesterday. We talked about a bunch of stuff and I gave him a postcard on the book. We exchanged information and I told him I'd be in touch so he could see the pictures. And that I'd give his family a print when I got them done and then I left...

...TOTALLY FREAKED OUT.

I mean what are the chances that he'd spell his name on the phone when I happened to be standing there? Hell, what are the chances that Harry Nilsson's son would be behind the counter at a cell phone store I was sent to to get my phone fixed?

Especially since I'd run into the woman who is directing my movie at the scanners earlier in the day. And we had a long talk while she looked at the mock-up of my book. She also had some good news about our movie and we discussed how great things were working out for both of us. I made a comment about how cool it was that things and people were just connecting out of the blue for us and that it was a sign that we were going in the right direction.

So, I'm guessing you think the story is over now, right?

It's not.

I got in my car and as I was leaving the parking lot a song came on the radio.

It was One by Three Dog Night. My all-time favorite Three Dog Night song. They don't play it much on the radio anymore.

Do you know who wrote One?

Harry Nilsson.

And what could be weirder than that?

Someone called my cell phone as soon as I got home. The caller could hear me just fine. Then someone else called. That caller could hear me just fine. And then someone else, and someone else. There's nothing wrong with my phone.

Hi, Harry. Thanks for visiting. Feel free to stop by any time.


Here's Harry's version of "One" (I wish someone had video of him singing this live):



And live in the studio recording A Little Touch of Schmilsson in the Night in 1973:



Sweet.