When You Go

After we spent a couple of hours checking out my new digs* at Griffin Ranch in La Quinta...

The front of my house.

I'm definitely going to have to learn to play piano now that I have a baby grand.

My beautiful bedroom.

My favorite room - a kitchen/family/hangout room to die for.

A bit of my backyard.

...my brother and I headed over to visit our stepmother who has been bedridden for several years. I had stopped in to see her last year when I was here for the Palm Springs Book Festival and just before her kids moved her out of her house (where she needed full time care) into the home of the lady who was giving her the FT care. The last time I saw her I did all the talking and she did all the mumbling. The only word I managed to decipher during my one hour visit was 'holiday'.

The bro' was certain he could 'wake' her up by playing her a song on his guitar. I doubted him. Big time. I'd seen her last year. He hadn't seen her for two and a half years.

Of course when he goes to pull his guitar out if its case, he realizes he forgot to bring the key. After the stepmother's caregiver came up with whatever pointy objects she had in the house (she didn't have a bobby pin which means she wouldn't have had a hope in hell on Let's Make A Deal) her husband finally comes up with a weird tiny curved pointy plier gizmo and the concert is back on.

I sit on the empty bed next to the stepmother's bed, facing the bro' who sits in a chair. I had no intention whatsoever of taking a picture -- definitely not the way I want to remember the stepmother -- but when my brother started playing a song he wrote called When You Go and I looked at him and saw this picture, I couldn't resist ...

Here's the chorus of the song...

When you go
May you walk in starlight
The full moon cast a shadow of your soul
Know that we're always there beside you
You'll never be alone out on your road
When you go**

A bit of a tearjerker under the circumstances...go here to listen to the song.

Oh shit, I forgot to mention what happened when he played for her. During the two songs he sang, she actually smiled and laughed. Afterward, she spoke to the extent that I could make out a couple of full sentences. Happily, we made her happy. Which was well worth it even if it was only for a few minutes.

And the lesson learned? Tell the people you love that you love them in case the day comes when you can't. Or they can't hear it.


*Sadly, this part of the post is a complete fabrication. But a walk through the show homes was certainly an inspiration to move myself up a few notches on the food chain.

**© John Chesher

Short and Sweet

I'm back in the desert for a couple of days.

Picked up my brother at LAX this afternoon. He lives in Australia. Haven't seen him in two and a half years.

We headed directly here to see my sister.

And another sister came in from Phoenix.

That makes four-sixths of my dad's children in the same place at the same time.

Don't think we've come that close since New Year's 2000 in Hawaii. As I recall we went six for six there. I don't think that will ever happen again. Ever.

But this is nice.

Picture of the day...

I figure this picture represents family...nothing to do with mine. I shot this of a father and son through the window from inside of Starbucks.

The Juggler

And the Weekly Round-Up. Yeah, I know it's Monday but there was a tribute a day for almost the whole week. So here we are (I am) again figuring out where the week went. I know that I've spent nearly all of today writing one little letter. Geez. As a matter of fact, I did the first draft of it yesterday. And the whole letter is only 276 words. How lame does that make me?

What else? Well, I was pretty busy. Working at least 12 hour days. And I'm pretty sure I have something to show for it somewhere. I spent all day and all night (well, 'til 1am) rewriting a screenplay that I need to send out to a producer. I thought it would be a quick check for typos rewrite but as I was reading the first five pages I had no idea how I went from one scene to the next. The transitions completely sucked. And it really freaked me out. I guess the last time I was working on it, I knew it so well that I filled in the blanks as I read. But this time I'd forgotten the story so my a-b-c read like a-c. And a couple of the main character intros were lazy and gave no character whatsoever. It got a lot better after the first fifteen and in some parts I found myself wondering what was going to happen next...even surprised. More evidence to my early onset of some sort of mental disorder, I'm sure.

Much of the week was spent opening new doors. Figuring out how to keep the House of Chesher standing. I'm close to finalizing a contract for a very cool new version of Everybody I Shot Is Dead, although it's a little too early to reveal now...but something to look forward to. We had another meeting on the TV pitch thing with the guy we pitched to a couple of weeks ago. We figured some angles out on that and now have another meeting coming up next week with some more people. I digitized 5 mini DV tapes we shot on the show and now I think I want to learn Final Cut Pro and Studio Pro.

I finally got all the credits together and sent off for the Mick Fleetwood DVD I produced...wow, that only took two and a half months. Is time going by faster or am I just incompetent? I think it's part of my creative process. I work completely by feel...which means I procrastinate a lot...but when a deadline nears everything always seems to come to fruition. Speaking of letting things go, I finally invoiced a couple of people for things that should have billed almost a year ago. And I still have more of that to do. I also have a ton of accounting to catch up on and I also need to reconcile my accounts with my book distributors. That should be fun. Not.

And finally, last week Pumpkin decided she likes to eat negatives. As in photographic negatives. As the picture of the day, here is the neg sheet that Pumpkin ate...

I had to take the separated piece out of her mouth. I was in the room at the time. I heard an odd noise and looked to see what she was doing. It couldn't have taken her more than 30 seconds to do the damage.

Here's the close-up of the frame she tore apart...

Fortunately, she didn't chew up the neg to my most favorite picture ever (I have no idea what the neg would be), because if that happened...well, use your imagination. I'm just happy to know that my pictures are tasty. That's gotta mean something. And I learned that I can't leave that box of all my vintage photos sitting out on my office floor.

Decided to scan some of my favorite juggler shots. I remember shooting these like it was yesterday. The guy's name is Stephen (okay, it was written on the neg page) and I met him somewhere and asked if I could take some pictures of him. See how well I remember yesterday?

I do remember wanting to get all four of his balls in a row. Yes, he had four balls. This is the closest I got. In only three tries. Trust me, I made it look easy.

This is another favorite that Pumpkin got the best of. Can you imagine my position when I took it? The white schmutz on the bottom is the glassine stuck to the negative courtesy of dog spit. The big black mark? That was made by Pumpkin's tooth. Hopefully I can clean the neg and retouch the rest.

This a a version of the above...just not as good.

And finally...OMG...how cute is this? I would love to find this girl (and Stephen for that matter) so if anyone knows who either of them are please get in touch. The photos were taken in Vancouver and the girl would now be in her *gulp* 30s.

Keith Knudsen

It was only four years ago today that we lost long time Doobie Brothers drummer Keith Knudsen. This photo has got to be in my all time Top Ten live concert shots. I was lucky that he came out from behind his kit to sing lead on one song in their show...a Sonny Boy Williamson cover of Don't Start Me To Talkin'.

Keith Knudsen

2/18/48-2/8/2005

This is an odd little video that for some strange reason has only had a couple of hundred views, so I'm guessing that you haven't seen it before. It's Listen To The Music from what looks to be a Japanese TV show. Keith is the drummer on the right...





You can see more pictures and learn more about Keith Knudsen and the 47 other musicians in my tribute book, Everybody I Shot Is Dead.

Malcolm

Malcolm Roberts passed away six years ago today. He was from the UK. I shot him on a soundstage in Los Angeles where they were shooting what I believe was a pilot for a variety show that would star Malcolm. I don't think it ever happened. While you may not be familiar with him, Malcolm Roberts enjoyed rock star status in Brazil, even though he was mostly a cabaret-type singer.

Malcolm Roberts
3/31/44-2/7/03

With the state of the world these days, I think this song fits the bill...



For more on Malcolm you can visit his fansite.

You can also learn more about Malcolm Roberts and 47 other musicians in my tribute book, Everybody I Shot Is Dead.

Carl Wilson

Eleven years ago today Beach Boy Carl Wilson lost his battle with cancer. What an amazing talent he was and what an incredible legacy of music he left. The music he did with his brothers and the original Beach Boys resonates to this day...not only with those of us who were lucky enough to see them and hear their records back in the day, but also with the generations that followed. And I expect Carl's contribution to music will continue to inspire generations to come. The Beach Boys are timeless.

Carl Wilson

12/21/46-2/6/98

This is a video I hadn't seen before...it's an interview with Dick Clark followed by a solo (as in not with the Beach Boys) of a song called Heaven...which I thought was appropriate for this day since he has the voice of an angel and I expect he is singing in heaven...

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

Alex Harvey

Alex Harvey again...it's not deja vu. Yesterday was the gloomy post honoring the day the sensational one passed on, and doubly gloomy because he died the day before today...his birthday.

But let's forget about the gloomy bit and start the party 'cause that's the way Alex would want it. And in celebration of what would have been Alex's 74th birthday (wow, he didn't seem anywhere near my mother's age when I shot him at the Whisky), I'm posting a photo that hasn't been seen before...one that didn't make it into the book.

Alex Harvey

2/5/35-2/4/82

Happy Birthday, Alex! And Vambo still Rools!!


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

The Sensational Alex Harvey

Twenty-seven years ago today Alex Harvey had a massive heart attack while waiting for a ferry at the Zeebrugge port (a subdivision of Bruges).

Alex Harvey

2/5/35-2/4/82

Ladies and gentlemen...the Sensational Alex Harvey...

Live Blogging

I'm trying something new. Live blogging. I'm going to upload this post as I write it. If you happen to be on during the process you can either stay on the blog and refresh every once in a while or check back to see how it ends.

Why would I do this? I'm going back into my rock'n'roll picture files that I haven't looked at since they were shot way back when and I thought it might be fun for you to follow along in real time so you can experience it with me 'cause there's usually a surprise that pops up. I'm hooking up the scanner, then pulling out a random set of negs...I'll be back in a few minutes to identify who I'm scanning...after I grab a chocolate chip cookie from the kitchen.

4:16 - I'm multi-tasking. When I went to the kitchen for the cookie I needed to get a paper towel because my neg holder was covered in dust thanks to having two puppies that like to play in the dirt and then shake themselves out in my office. I also had Facebook open and was pinged to chat by Jaimie while she was waiting outside her neurologist's office for a friend to pick her up. So, anyway, the neg sheet I pulled out is Charley Pride. He's a cool dude. One of the few - maybe only at the time I shot him - black country music stars. According to Wikipedia this is a quote from Charley: "I don't have no skin hang-ups. I'm no color. I'm just Charley Pride, the man." He was also a pro baseball player who almost made it to the majors. Read about him here, then check out his website where you can hear his voice, while I see what I caught on these negs.

4:29 - The first four strips are scanning as a contact sheet. I can see there's some backstage stuff...hope the pics are good...or else this could be embarrassing since I have to post 'em. Ah, they're ready...gotta open the contact sheet and see what's printable...be back soon.

4:38 - Here's a shot of the first 4 strips (there's two more to do) of the contact sheet. I'm wondering who the guy with the sunglasses is...maybe Ronnie Milsap? That's off the top of my head and I could be completely off base. I'll see if I can find a photo to match to online. See? There's always a surprise...

5:10 - Yup, it's Ronnie Milsap. To be honest, if you'd asked me if I shot Ronnie Milsap, I'd have said "nope." But I did. So, the first blind country superstar was on the bill with maybe the first black country superstar.

I love this picture...it's a bit on the soft side (as in out-of-focus) but the moment I captured is spot-on. Charley and then whatever is on the other two strips is coming up...after I add Ronnie Milsap's name in the tags.

5:55 - That took a while. I uploaded this strip and then realized it was too small to see so I had to redo it. This is an actual series of 5 shots on the neg strip, unretouched (other than for dust and cutting of the 6th shot 'cause it wasn't part of the series). I thought it was pretty cool to see them all together. So, here you go...

6:06 - Okay, it still shows on here too small (like this type)
so you have to click on it to see it at the size I want you to see it at.

After the show we get the obligatory photo of the artist and the record guy...in this case it's John Ford from RCA. I don't know who the hell they were looking at when I was the one getting paid to shoot the picture...

And in case you thought this was some stupid little gig, check out the limo and the surroundings. This is inside the Vancouver Coliseum...the same place I shot Led Zeppelin...and it holds 17,500 people.

John Ford followed by Charley Pride...no idea who the rest of 'em are.

Milsap getting in the limo.

Okay, on to the last two strips to see what's there.

6:13 - The strips are in the scanner. In the preview, which is very small, it looked like there's some shots that have nothing to do with Charley Pride. I know a couple of the are of one of my school mates but then there's a guy on a couch and some in a mysterious doorway. I have know idea what they are...we'll see soon.

6:20 - I scanned these strips too big. 4 minutes to go...oops...too late to start over now. I'm wondering who the guy on the couch is. Now it's 3 minutes. I should take the dogs for a quick walk...or just twiddle my thumbs.

6:46 - Thankfully the guy on the couch wasn't naked...nor was he somebody I went home with...phew, that would have been slightly embarrassing...and could possibly happen if I do this exercise again. Anyway, this one is Charley Pride's drummer. Guess how I figured that out? I have no idea who he is...can anybody out there help me? Looks like we did get along 'cause I have a few photos of him (although none playing live) and I don't have any pics of any other band members...

Nothing sexier than a black dude in cowboy boots.

7:10 - Here are the last two photos on the Charley Pride strips. My high school friend Debby S. (no last name in case she'd prefer not to be identified online). I haven't seen her in a billion years, but while I was scanning I did a little sleuth work on the web and I think I found an email address for her. If it's correct she works in the field of education. I don't think I would have ever imagined that would be her career path. Anyway, I'm going to send her an email, tell her about this post and see what happens...

I have no idea where these were taken. I know she was in Vancouver for a while but not sure where she lived or what she was doing. I do remember that she totally bailed me out on one (probably more) occasion. I was really into the Eagles and had shot them in Vancouver. I got permission from the promoters out of Seattle to shoot them at the Kingdome but I had no way to get down there...and couldn't bring a guest. But Miss Debby came to the rescue and loaned me her car. That was big. And something I think about quite often.

Thanks again, D.S.

And finally, before I close the live blog...which has been fun for me but incredibly exhausting...today is the 50th anniversary of the tragic plane crash that took the lives of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper. Of course, I didn't take pictures of any of them but I do have a connection with another musician I photographed.

Waylon Jennings was in Holly's back-up band at the time but gave up his seat on the Beechcraft Bonanza to the Big Bopper, who was suffering from the flu at the time. The crash and his escape from death haunted Waylon for years and years. Personally, I'm glad he wasn't on the plane (I wish none of them were) because Waylon was one of my favorite photo subjects...we had a special connection that resulted in some really great pictures. Here's one of 'em...

Waylon Jennings
June 15, 1937 - February 13, 2002

Rest in Peace.

Facebooked

I've finally come out of hiding - or out of the Dark Ages as some would say - and signed up on Facebook...

Yikes...it's like taking on a whole new addiction. Another procrastination outlet. What have I done? Too late now.

It's not a very good feeling to sign up and see you have 0 (yes, that's ZERO friends), so I put my address book in when it said it could see who I know on Facebook. That garnered some friends, including a guy I don't know who was mistaken for another guy with the same name who accepted me as a friend and then sent a message "Do I know you?" We had a mutual friend so I guess that was good enough for him. It was very exciting when people I know friended me before I had a chance to friend them. It gives you that warm fuzzy feeling and you jump up and down and say, "Yay, somebody likes me."

It was kinda hard for me to put a profile photo up there. I barely look in the mirror, so it's not much fun to see my own picture. And, I just found out that people can tag me in photos and they'll show up on my Facebook page. That's a little scary for me so let me put this out there right now...my contract in life says I have photo approval.

After a while of thinking and soul searching, I started with my publicity shot taken by the ever brilliant Randee St. Nicholas (she can make anyone look good)...

...but it felt a little narcissistic, as in trying to trick people into thinking I actually look like this, so I went with this one that my mother took of me and Drama at the dog park...

...my everyday look (I'm the one on the right).

I have no idea how the whole Facebook thing works. I want to put up some of my photography...Tyler showed me how to make an album...so I'll get to that sooner or later. I totally don't understand the networking blog thing. I saw friends who have their favorites blogs listed but when I clicked on them a message box came up saying something like, "everything on your facebook, including but not limited to all your information and all your friends and their information, will be sucked into a super vortex where you will definitely not live happily ever after. Do you still want to open this network?" Can someone please explain this feature to me and its usefulness?

The other thing I've been wondering about is Facebook etiquette. What are the dos and don'ts? How easy is it to piss people off (just in case there's someone I want to piss off)? What is the line in the sand that I don't want to cross? And where is it located? Is there a Facebook charm school I can attend? What are all these groups that people join? Do you have to be a group-type personality to join a group? Why do some people have more than one Facebook page (ahem, Fred Durst) so you can't figure out which one is really theirs?

I must say I am fascinated by the security whatchyamacallits that you have to type in a box so your message can be sent. Why do they put there lines through them so they can't be deciphered by anyone short of Einstein? I can't tell you how many times I had to click 'try another set of words' option. Sheesh. And the words? Who thinks these things up? "yesterday's storm" "peterkin houses" "eagle wednesday" and my favorite, "etude henrietta"

I already have 57 friends...okay, I know that's a sad number in Facebook terms but I just signed up on Saturday. But you can help me add to that, right? You can add me by searching my name, Deborah Chesher...wait, I better check and see if there are more than one of me...nope, I'm the only one. Ha, ha...I did a search with my name and it put a message box in that said, "Note: You can always find and click on your own profile in Search."...when they should have said, "Why the fuck are you looking for yourself. Are you lost? Or just a sad, loser, egotist? I bet you check yourself out on IMDB too, don't you?"

Anyway, I'd be happy to have you as my Facebook friend (I think). So, if you want to be my friend (geez that sounds pathetic...give me a week and I'll probably be back here offering cookies to anyone who will be my friend), send a note to let me know that you read my blog. Truthfully, and in all seriosness, I would really love to know more about the people who read the words I write here.

Round-Up

Last Monday I was still in the Desert, but I was actually working all day on graphics for the Berlin Film Festival and didn't get back home until 30 minutes before Tuesday.

Tuesday was major-crazy. I had a pitch meeting scheduled with a groovy television executive at 2:30. This whole thing started mid-December when a friend of mine told me about a scripted show she was writing and then showed me a piece of video. I immediately said it should be a reality show. Since then we've been working her initial idea into that format.

We all know that the entertainment industry subscribes to the first rule of the Girl Guides - Be Prepared. We weren't. Not only had we not practiced the pitch for this meeting...it wasn't even written. We did have the general idea down and the characters, but the pizzazz part of the written pitch was nowhere near pizzazzy. So, on Tuesday, I was jamming on the written pitch from the moment I awoke, but I also had to find some time to clean the house since the meeting was here. I still wasn't done by the time the interested parties had arrived - I ended up just going with some bullet points for our ideas of the show structure - and we didn't have one second to discuss how we would present our pitch.

Under normal circumstances this scenario would have resulted in instant-death. Fortunately, I don't do normal. And in this case we had a couple of aces in the hole. First, the television exec is a friend of mine and, second, we brought the talent in. As it turned out we didn't have to pitch one measly word. We had the talent do their thing, and then the exec jumped in and engaged them in a dialogue. It was a brilliant dialogue and I got spent the hour + laughing my ass off. Phew. We were very happy. Now the real work begins - figuring out the best way to sell it and then the big 'if'...see if anyone wants to buy it. Rock'n'roll.

The rest of my week was filled with accounting and organizing...I think. I thought I was keeping pretty good track of my time but I guess not. I'm shaking my head in wonderment that it's already February...tick, tick, tick...I need more time to make money before the end of the month when I have to give it all to the bank and all the other people/entities who have their hands out. I'm going to spend what's left of today preparing for tomorrow and the rest of the week. I gotta write everything down. I gotta see where every precious moment is going if I'm going to get out alive.

Let's see if I can find a photograph indicative of the moment...I have no idea what photo I could possibly post with this...

OMG, I found one...it's perfect...in the first Nikon pics folder I opened...I came through some fire shots that Tyler took but them I scrolled down a few more and came to some from my last trip up north...and this one that I hadn't even seen before (even though I took it)...a perfect fit to my present state of mind...

Enjoy the rest of your Sunday.

Terry Kath's Birthday

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

We are celebrating Terry Kath's 63rd birthday today...

Terry Kath

1/31/46-1/23/78

...and I think it's only fitting that we see him all dressed up for the occasion...



Thanks to Lolly for reminding me of this great video in the comments last week when it was the anniversary of you know what.

I also love this interview clip - so, so sweet...



Happy Birthday, Terry.


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

In Under The Wire

I went out tonight...which happens almost never unless I am working. And now it's 11:45pm and I don't know if I can get this down in time...or is it up?

My friend Jeff, who I know from a million years ago and have been talking to on occasion over the past year and a half but haven't seen, called me up and asked if I wanted to meet him and his wife at this art opening. He thought I'd be interested because the artist was doing works that were inspired and created while he listened to specific songs, including The Beatles.

I said sure. He went on to tell me it was at his friend's post production studios on Wilshire and San Vicente. By the time he was going to say the actual address I spit out "640." Yeah, that's it.

Well, I hadn't been to that address in a really long time...I'm guessing the late eighties when a boss of mine raised his voice to me (I worked for screamers who screamed at everyone except me because I told them the day they scream at me is the day I leave) and I walked out of the building. The company was Cannon Films - they made all the Chuck Norris (Delta Force 1 thru 86) and Charles Bronson (Death Wish 2 thru 143) movies, etc.

But what made it even weirder to return to this building was the fact that my old bosses purchased the building as a shell...you know, without any walls or halls and all that...with the millions of dollars they made off a movie called Breakin'...and it was my ex that did the whole inside of the building, including the post production facilities that house Jeff's friend's company, Wildfire.

Okay, I'm putting this up and adding to it in real time...just so I can make my deadline of a post every day.

Okay, moving on...time to put up a photo of the outside...


The construction of this facility became a part of my life - it takes a lot of work to oversee the building of post production facilities...the screening room, the ADR/Foley stage, the mixing rooms, the machine room and on and on. Months and months of work until the day when they threw the big Christmas party (complete with real snow on the top level of the car park) that was also the official grand opening of the building. And just when we were about to celebrate the fruits of my ex's labors, I went into mine. We missed the party...I think it was Chuck Norris, or someone of that stature, that ended up announcing the birth of Tyler over the party PA system.

So, entering the now Wildfire post production became a walk down memory lane with a lot of ghosts stirring up all kind of thoughts and feelings. Probably because the place (structure and layout wise) looks exactly the same. The screening room which is now a mixing room has the same chairs (at least the first three rows that are still there), the same wall coverings and the same movie screen. The recording room is exactly the same as it was when Jaimie did a voice-over recording for a movie, playing a young Kathy Ireland.

I think we should use Wildfire to mix my movie just to bring the whole thing full circle. It's not like I would slumming for the sake of a strange ending to a story -- their recent movies include Milk and Twilight.

Let me see if the artist has a website so you can check it out -- that was easy...here's how you kill two birds with one stone...a taste of Edward Beckett, the artist, on the Wildfire site.

And here's a shot of the gathering...

Cool art, good wine and food, and nice people. All in all, a successful night.

Puppy Love

In case you were wondering how it's going with two dogs in the house...

Pumpkin & Drama

The only problem with a puppy in love? Pumpkin has forgotten her name. Oh, and she can't focus.

Anybody got a spare service dog that I can send to my daughter?

7:45pm - Edited to add:

And in case you weren't convinced by the photo and text above, this is what they did when they woke up...

Chez and the Unreal Girl - Part 2

Okay, where was I? It feels like a month since yesterday. Oh yeah, I was waiting until after the niece's jumping classes to show her this...

...so I could get the skinny on what happened when she knocked on Chez's door at 10:15pm, the night before his final day/round of the Bob Hope Classic. At this point I should say I was pretty uncomfortable with the fact that she would have the nerve to knock on the guy's door. Which is very odd because it was a behavior I had seen a million times by groupies during my years of shooting rock stars. But I guess not so odd since I never had the balls to do something like that myself, even though I had plenty of opportunity.

So, I showed her the stalkeresque photo I shot of the subject in question on his way out the door for his fifth and final round. She flipped out in the "that's so cool...I so want to get with him" way. The door was open...that was easy. I stepped through and asked...

"Did you actually knock on his door last night?"

"Yes."

"I thought I heard light knocking, then harder knocking and even louder and longer knocking...was that all you?"

"I think he was asleep."

"And you kept knocking?"

"Uh huh."

"Did he answer the door?"

I really wanted her answer to be no, because I knew if he answered the door he had to come all the way down the stairs. And if that happened I would have to be embarrassed for my niece.

"Yes."

"Oh my God." Pick myself up off the ground. "What did you say?"

"Hi."

"Hi? You woke the guy up before a tournament to say Hi?"

"It was kind of awkward. I wished him luck on his game."

Over the next hour or two we probably went over what was said or not said at least twenty times. We all had lunch at the Mexican place again.

This time they had a part of a mariachi band playing outside...but we sat at the same table we had the day before. And continued our conversation about Chez among other things. At some point in one of the conversations I told the niece she had a chip on her shoulder. Sure enough when I looked up at her it was there...

After lunch we returned to the condo to go for a swim. I was happy to see that none of the cars belonging to the occupants of the upstairs condo were there. I was still ragging on the niece for her skanky (I guess since nothing happened it wasn't skanky) behavior and told her she better hope he had a good day on the course 'cause if he didn't it would be all her fault. With that thought, I immediately got on the internet to check his score...

Okay, he had a -6, -6, -4 and a -3 in his first four rounds...and on his fifth and final round...the day after he was awakened from his peaceful pre-last round sleep by the niece...he shot a...oh my God...he shot a 75!...yikes...that's +3...aka 3 over par...or should I say six shots over what he shot on his previous worst day...man, that sucks...or should I say, he must have choked...he must have choked because he had sleep interuptus at the hand of the niece rapping on his door.

If you don't believe me you can check out his scores right here.

I ragged on her some more. Then, as we began cross the green outside our balcony door on our way to the pool I said, "You better hope he doesn't come back to the condo carrying a bomb with your name on it." And at that very moment an SUV comes barreling up the road doing twice the speed limit and screeches to a stop facing the wrong way at the curb in front of the condo. The door opens and - I kid you not - Chez Reavie jumps out of the driver's seat. I grabbed the niece's arm and we high-tailed it to the right, heading to a different pool where he wouldn't see us.

By the time we got out of the jacuzzi and back to the condo Chez was long gone. We thought he was just out for the evening because there were lots of lights on in his condo. I was thinking I should drop a copy of EISID to him as an apology for his crappy round. But we never saw him again. The next evening the same lights were burning. He hadn't been back. I guess his mom never taught him to turn out the lights when he left a room...or a condo.

I'm figuring at some point Chez, or one of his friends, will show up here after googling Chez Reavie. If you are reading this, Chez, I hope you brought your sense of humor and realize, while this story is all true, I may be embellishing the motivations of some of the characters within it. Call it artistic license. Oh, and I still have a copy of Everybody I Shot Is Dead for you in thanks for behaving like a gentleman when facing the intrusion of the niece...just email me and let me know where to send it. It's the least I can do.

Chez and the Unreal Girl

Three posts ago I mentioned that the Bob Hope classic was happening in Palm Desert (La Quinta to be exact) this past weekend and pro golfer Chez Reavie was staying in the condo above us.

I only knew this because my brother-in-law was outside one morning (before I arrived) when Chez was loading his clubs in a car that had some official PGA sticker on it. And being a golfing enthusiast he struck up a who-are-you convo with Chez and wished him luck on his round that day. On top of that, my eighteen year old niece had also seen him and freely let me know (more than once) that she thought he was hot.

In order to to mention him in the other post I did a little research in order to spell his name correctly, how much money he made last year, and how he was doing in the Bob Hope Classic. He was 6 under the first two days, 4 under on the third day and 3 under on Saturday, the day I arrived and did the post. As I was working on the post, my niece joked about knocking on his door and hooking up with him. Ha. Ha. Then she went in her room and changed into her jammie bottoms (tight stretchy short shorts) and that was that.

By this time, it was around ten o'clock and the sister and the bro-in-law were already on the other side of the sandman. And I was so internet involved I barely noticed when my niece slipped out the front door 15 minutes later. Until I heard a light knocking. Nah, it can't be. Then quiet. Then more knocking, a bit harder this time. No way, it can't be. Then a harder and much longer knocking. Then nothing. A few minutes later my niece marched into the condo and mumbled a few words on her way down the hall to her room. I left it at that. Maybe I didn't want to know.

Early the next morning, the guys from upstairs were in and out carting their clubs and luggage to the car...right outside my open window so I could hear everything. My bro-in-law was also outside, waiting by the car for the sister and the niece to go to the horse grounds for her 8am class. The bro-in-law wished Chez luck on his last game of the tourney, and I was hoping that he would get in his car and drive away before my niece left our condo. I didn't know what happened, if anything, the night before - for all I knew he wasn't even home - but if something did...well, I didn't want any confrontation before she had to go and jump a bunch of fences on a thousand pound horse.

My prayers were answered...sort of. He didn't drive off, but he did go back in the condo and didn't come out again until the niece was long gone. How do I know this? I decided I would try to snap a stalker picture of the guy coming out his condo. I had already opened the shutters on the window and loved the lighting and the framing. The picture was really for the art of the shot...not the art of the stalk. Really. And I was pretty sure it was impossible to get the timing right and catch him in the frame, especially since I was shooting it on my phone.

A few minutes later, I heard him bounding down the stairs. He was fast. My heart raced. I clicked. Hoping he couldn't hear it through the window. Hoping I got the shot since there are no second chances in covert stalker photography. The result? Well, I think I brought 'the art' into the art of stalker photography. I not only caught the subject...I think the framing and lighting is stellar. I like that you can't see his face. I like that he's in motion. I think it looks like a painting.

I must admit part of my motivation to shoot the picture was my curiosity of what happened the night before. Did the niece talk to him? Did he answer the door? (See, if I was really a stalker I would have spied on the niece from my room as soon as she slipped out the door...but I didn't). I decided I would show the picture to my niece as a way to find out what happened...but I had to wait until after she finished her classes.

Drat...and now that it's 11:30pm, you're going to have to wait until tomorrow to read the rest of the story. That wasn't my plan but since I droned on and on instead of telling the whole thing succinctly in a few paragraphs and don't have time to edit, that's the way it's gotta be.

Uh Oh

I'm racing out the door of the condo...

Back to Lost Angeles...quick.

Pitch meeting for the TV show tomorrow afternoon.

Not ready.

Work to do.

No time.

Worked hard today.

A flyer.

Finances.

Coffee.

These are the leaning palm trees...

They lean.

Cooking 101

I am food obsessed. Not so much in the making of it. But definitely in the eating of it. Thankfully my sister and bro-in-law are into the making of it. Although I did contribute in tonight's meal. I suggested they make their world-famous Caesar salad to go along with the lamb chops. I even went to the store to pick up the ingredients they didn't have on hand.

That was it for my contribution, other than crating this pictorial of the making the meal aka Cooking 101 so you too can make a meal that I would be happy to eat.

First things first...

You gotta spice up the meat and add some marinade stuff.
I have no idea how this was done...I was at the store buying vinegar, capers,
Parmesan cheese, croutons, Tabasco and anchovies for the salad.

Shucking the garlic.

The innovative garlic smasher.
Lots of garlic for the Caesar dressing as well as...

The sister had the brilliant idea to add garlic toast to the menu.

Whipping up the salad dressing...all from scratch.

Tearing up the Romaine.

Frying up the bacon.

The meat's on the barbecue...even though it's too dark to see.

The bacon looks over-cooked (okay, burnt)
but it was perfect because it crumbled perfectly into the salad.

The salad is done.
(except somebody forgot to put in the croutons until it was too late)

The bread is done.

The meat is done.

Let's eat!