This past week's excuse for not blogging: Worst Flu Ever. I'd been handling the rather relatively pleasant weather -- the coldest I've been during my fortnight in the 612 was earlier this week under 3 blankets in bed. But I am thawing along with the snow so I'll try and be more regular. I could make a joke about the flu and being regular but I'll refrain...

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I am kind of looking forward to the documentary on its way from Netflix right now. When "Troll" came out in 1986 it quickly became a favorite piece of schlock -- probably the best Sonny Bono movie of all and I do really mean that. So, I was excited for the sequel when it came out a few years later. Disappointment would be understatement. I have seen some very, very bad movies in my life -- often my choice (Crap! I've written a few of them too -- rarely by choice) but I have been calling "Troll 2" the worst movie I have ever seen.

I have described it to anyone willing enough or trapped in my company as seemingly having must been made by people who had never heard English spoken or had ever seen another movie in their lifetime. Troll 2, in my less than humble opinion, is truly the absolute worst movie ever made. No bold statement.

How bad does it get? Outside of no repeat Sonny Bono perf there are no actual trolls in this 1990 release. The movie is set in the hopefully-fictional town of Nilbog. Now it's been 20 years since I saw it, but I have one very vivid memory that these days I would never have even gotten to: Now I would have plucked it from the dvd player and returned it to Netflix with disdain and prejudice.

The lead characters having escaped look back at the town sign in their rear-view mirror and see the name reflected. NILBOG IS GOBLIN BACKWARDS! Which, while true as all get out -- the movie is called Troll and not Goblin. And I think that was the best moment in the entire film.

So I am very excited to see a doc about how this is the worst movie ever made; it's not like I need validation when I *know* I have been 100% correct for the last 20 years, but ...

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Between the waiting for my stuff to arrive from LA and the flu I have watched more pre-season baseball than even I would left to my own devices (in this case: the beloved MLB.TV package, my annual early birthday present to myself) which has been a great distraction.

Best tidbit: Bosox manager Francona asks Lester to be opening day starter via text message. How bush league is that? About as bush as it gets, but I suppose that is to be expected.

Okay, back to your regular programming: I'll keep this thing more regular too: "Promise."

Greetings & salutations from the snow-covered MidWest.

Things I have noticed that are the same: seemingly no one walks in Minneapolis either - just me - but I think that's because it's slippery, not because there's a rule against walking, as in Los Angeles.
And although my first greeter to Minneapolis threatened to shoot me if I flew with Thurman again, he was wearing a Cubs hat so he wasn't a local, per se. Since then, despite temperatures that my SoCal thinned blood still need to acclimate to, the welcome has been much warmer. I'm not saying this kind of abrupt change is for everyone, but nearly a week in, it feels right to me. Even waiting all day for UPS & Fedex ain't so bad when there's pre-season baseball to watch.
AT&Pee can keep sending me bills for my cancelled cellphone service, but they seem like they're missives from another time and another place- so there. That, much like the old homestead seem to have less reach here. To say that I don't miss it is understatement. Good sleep seems to help sweep that all away...

I won't yet bore you with details of the Yankees' grapefruit league play, but you know it's coming...

The Rose cover will be done as soon as a friend who is on vacation, comes back. In the meanwhile, I'll get back to the Live Fast! novel edit and I think there's a family script that is supposed to get banged out this month. I get to hibernate, assimilate, acclimate some this month as I learn to get my snow-legs...

Or: Snow-far, snow-good...

Cheers, Brian

All apologies for neglect here; I've been packing and moving. I'll file my first report from the frozen tundra this weekend. Cheers & Thanks, Brian

The last time I was getting ready to leave Los Angeles, a very dear friend sent me a skull & bones t-shirt that read "Hollywood" and had the surgeon general's warning that living in Hollywood could cause serious character flaws. And when I received it then, some years back, it was still mostly a joke. Mostly.
But now, as I prepare to propel myself from this city, the joke is mostly lost on me. And of course this is gross generalization, but people have seemed to really turn on each other here over the course of the last few things. Things are indeed very tough here; when the film biz suffers this whole town feels the effects. Many people apparently see this as reason to circle the wagons; others see fit to screw over anyone outside of that circle. I am also seeing some good people working on exit strategies and I think them wise and I hope they get out while they can. I think that more than rats leave a sinking ship...

So over the next week plus as I get more ready to get out of here I may not be posting much, although you should be used to that. I'll have a new perspective and soon and will look to share that with y'all...

Productivity Update:

I spent all day yesterday holed up in the studio working away at my novel: Live Fast! (Die Out of Town) and I am still not hating it -- at all. Finished an edit/pass through working on one issue; next up is a pass fleshing out more of what is going on internally.

I have put the Rose cover specs out to a professional and should have a proper book cover back in less than 2 weeks. In the interim, I will be getting a print test copy of the short story collection into my hands asap. Another friend has offered to read and pass on to a publisher for whom she has worked, but for now I will progress with self-publication being the first step.

Stongly considering turning my family/kids screenplay "Field Trip" into a YA novel and working some more on the sketch of a kids book that has been in one of the notebooks for far too long.

In shorter, shorter news: @GeorgesGhost

In somewhat longer news, I will be updating my website http://stuffoflegends.tripod.com/
today and trying to keep it more than the once-every-few-years updates. The website is where I post a lot of the stories (both fiction and honest-to-God-truth) that are usually too long to go here except for when I am being lazy. Or when you've pissed me off and have been deemed "unworthy."

Surprising with that great attitude that I am single, huh?

I really don't want this to be the place where I bitch about piss-poor service etc. but that looks like where I am. I will be brief - mostly for my own sake - in regard to the newest chapter in the continuing saga that is the repair issues at my E. Hollywood bungalow.
They finally sent "repairmen" on Saturday. It took them five hours to put two bolts in to attach my toilet to the floor. Would they even consider putting in a new toilet - not one that is decades old and covered in rust stains? - nah. I don't think the smoke detectors that they finally put in after a year without any were even new. They don't actually fit the spot from the previous ones and I had to hold burning newspaper under it three times to get it to actually detect smoke.
The workmen spent more time going back & forth from my home to the home depot: you think it's easy to find the absolute cheapest kitchen faucet? I guess not. Adding injury to insult, they apparently used one of my JA Henckels steak knives to scrape the plumbing and broke the tip off it; of course, they deny they did this. And I know it's small potatoes, but they also took a small screwdriver from my kitchen. I "know" it was an accident but it just speaks to the level of incompetence that is KMG and CPS' M.O.
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If you loved the movie "Go" then you will like "Spin." Obviously, the filmmakers were big fans of that other little fun indie.

Despite some of the 2nd act doldrums when it fell into the typical rock bio picture pratfalls (yes, drugged up rock stars are not always terribly kind to their wives, girfriends, kids and recording studio engineers) "Sex and Drugs and Rock 'n Roll" the Ian Dury & The Blockheads movie is a kickass piece of work and I really recommend that.

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Pitchers & Catchers report to MLB Spring Training next week. Expect things to change here.

In the meanwhile, I am still tweeting as the ghost of George M. Steinbrenner III @GeorgesGhost. Check it out and follow him...

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Meanwhile, I have rolled up my sleeves working on the Live Fast! novel.

Perhaps there is a fine line between a missed opportunity and saving oneself anguish; I would like to think telling this new production company (who have never actually produced a movie, although I was told about their "$50-60M" film in pre-production. Well -- that's just crazy: I have six, $100M movies in "pre-production" and ten more "in development") where to stick their BS-option agreement is clearly on the side of saving anguish.

Almost exciting there for half a minnute. Okay, more like twenty seconds but for some-- that's a life time.

And since I was a roll in getting lied to, yesterday also seemed like the perfect time to rattle the cages of the rental management company, the bank and the LA Dept. of Housing. And really, it should not have come as much of a surprise to find out that the Mgt Co lied to LA Housing again. The first time the inspection notice and mandatory repairs required was sent to the Mgt Co they just said they never received it, which bought them 30 days more to ... not fix anything they were required to fix.

This time I was told by LA Housing that the tenant (that would be me) denied access to the property for their inspection and they just accepted that as gospel truth. I mean even though I filed the complaint with them and that LADoH has come twice to inspect and see that nothing was done. Of course, none of this is actually true. I did not let the Fannie Mae guy (who showed up in a Porsche, I shit you not and may have been wearing Armani) the first time he showed up unannounced, etc. but he did inspect two days later - now two months ago - and noted countless code violations and why my home would not pass inspection.

And they wonder why I ceased paying them money? I could easily squat one of the many vacant bungalows in the compound that still have power & gas (hmm... that could be billed to the bank, yes?) until such time that...

See? Wasn't it better when I had just had the Yankees to bitch about on here?