Chronicles, pt 2
Second part, same as the first, a little bit faster and a whole lot worse!
Anyway, there is a reason why most films about college suck. With the exception of Animal House which was more like the Marx Brothers go to school, almost every college film or TV since that featured students of age (this excludes Back to School with Rodney Dangerfield, Homer goes to College, and the Futurama at Mars U and Old School) has been close to terrible. For every moment of genius we get like a man composing a thesis that there is always a film with Michael Caine or Gene Hackman on TV, we get something on the whole like Van Wilder and the like.
With high school, the universal expeiriences are of love, friendship and competition can be transcendant becuase they are part of a universal experience and a sense of innocent and joyful recollection, and are seriously relatable because they are in essence human. In short, there is a reason why we remember our first loves and our friends we grew up with. You cannot duplicate the first time. It's always nice to hear someone tell a story about this, whether it is in film or fireside chat, because it's like hearing a new twist on a favorite memory.
With college, all great tales are essentially of debauchery and competition. Banging two chicks at a time is a great accomplishment for the 19 year old b-b-boy, but it's ultimately nothing special. It is a great gateway for recollection with friends, but you aint going to be telling your tale of winding up in a graveyard to your kids as you may about winning in high school. (Both are accomplishments are their level) Let me say that if anything, clichés cannot possibly do college and its inhabitant’s justice. Every subculture character, the frat guy, the nerd, the jock, the blonde haired sorority girl, the pothead, musician, and endless stereotypes are innumerable at any institution. Most of the myths and fables of college life are not only prevalent but abound on near any given college campus. From the movies to the books to the websites, it is dead on. But there is something that no text I have ever come upon has gotten right or remotely stumbled onto; college is immensely boring. Overwhelmingly, mercilessly, paralyzingly and dehumanizingly boring.
It is supposed to be the time of your life, and in many ways, it is. It can be fun, liberating, and mind expanding. But falling to this belief ruins the real experience. College has become a commodity in almost every sense of its purpose. It is the place where one is “supposed” to experiment with drugs, sex, and alcohol. It is a time when it is ok to do crazy ridiculous things. When the time is done, you move on, and then you enter real life. Students refers to it as “part of the College experiment,” a time in their life when they acted aside from their personality lines calling it “a phase.” The sad result of this is that discounting college experiences demeans the whole incident because it relegates it to a time when they are not living their life, but acting outside of their personality. Once you learn that most every college student is stuck in this temporal, 4-year mindset, you begin to realize how worthlessly shallow and hollow they and the experience both are.
People are very rarely the people they are; they are stuck between the person they were at the end of high school, full of ambition, dreams and hope, and the person at the end, disheveled, totally free, and having to face life without their parents for their first time in their life. When people get to college, often the freedom and pleasure of the place works against the entire process of growing up. They then become part of that system of clichés that dominate. They become in one way or another a member of a social subculture, most do it subconsciously to be what they wanted to be in high school or consciously to fit in.
This is what makes college something of aberrance in human psychology; it is a place where it is ok to succumb to the trends, to act out of your natural character. This trend is what dominates and shapes college life. I would call it college culture, but that would be a misnomer, for college is nothing more than a collective mass of subcultures, living in harmony relegating the whole college atmosphere to a collection of cliques. By the end of the college cycle, many Juniors and Seniors are dying to get out of it, “the time their lives” because they have unwilling succumb to a horrible routine and they can wait to break out of it and get into the real world. These are the usually the same people who reminisce the strongest. Everytime I heard a soon to be graduate say "I can't wait to get out and have a real job" or "It's great sleeping with soroity girls, but I need someting more" I just wanted to throttle them. I mean, people rarely got it.
So I guess, in the self ordained level of enlightenment about college I had come to, it was nigh impossible to let go. For every moment I thought that a 9-5 job with benefits was something worth having, (essentially the little angel appearing to get in a reminder that at some point I had to grow up) , I would continue to think of the final moments of a bad movie which sticks with you in the way that high school movies do and college movies don't.
The movie was Biloxi Blues, which for those who never saw it, it is all about Matthew Broderick as a new yorker going into the army. I suppose it's decent, but its a little long winded and didactic (it's hard to find the middle ground in army movies, you can either do Mash or Private Ryan, the inbetween is preachy and verbose). However, it closes with a line (I'm paraphrasing here...or misquoting, I never know) "I look back on these times with joy. I loved the expeirience for the most selfish of reasons, because I was young."
So thus we return to my actual saga of life instead of my supposistion about it. Finding it impossible to break in to a decent job in any field, I was forced outside of my chosen field for the simple reason of keeping myself fed and sheltered, I took up at in internship for the sad, yet simple reason of padding a resume. My plan was to take a short side path as a lackey and then turn into a career after a few months.
Perhaps the greatest fallicy of college is that it will yeild you a job when your four years are up. Whether you major in business, law, linux or literature, the jobs are not exactly there. Clearly those who are graduating are more educated, more elloquent, armed with theory and history than those who did not graduate. It may be due to our shoddy economy, but the truth of the matter is those of us who went to college are now going to be underneath many of our high school compatriots who entered the working world instead of university and have since moved up. In one of the first weeks at my current job I met a kid who had moved just moved from Chicago. He had planned to go, ironically, to USC film school as I was, but instead decided to build up some money to ease the tension of student loans that were to come. Starting as a lawn mower in 99 at 8.50 an hour, he left in mid 2003 with a salary of 42,000 and a mercedes benz, paid for in half by his company. He was entering the world I had just left and leaving behind the world I myself was now entering, with a benz to boot, no less. It is a tribute, I guess to the creative mind, but for those with a creative bone in their body see a blast of ironic instead of a glimmer of the American spirit. Ironically, it is people in cases like this that take many of the entry level jobs and force so many of those with simple bachleors back to earn a more formal degree.
The flip side of course was the struggle that was keeping myself afloat financially. The trick was getting started. And So I'll go back to Mid October. About the same time I was starting my internship and watching the cubbies suffer a death more horrible than imaginable, and then watching the Red Sox suffer a worse fate, I headed to Vegas for a bachleor party. Perhaps the single greatest feature of living in LA, even moreso than the occasional odd celeb encounter, is that you are hours from Vegas. but more on that in a bit, my top four celeb experiences:
4. The violinist from the band Flogging Molly. I said to her "I love your work. Here, let me buy your next round, I d'ld your band with out paying. Then we'll be even"
3. The google guys, and having a banker friend tell them that he needed 2.5 percent of their worth to be their banker. Only later did we tell him who they were. You know the face a man makes when he messes up with his girlfriend and it suddenly dawns on him he may not get laid for weeks. Multiply that by 100.
2. The wife of the guitarist of Def Leppard. It was real hard for me not to yell: "Hello cleveland!" I did however say, "So can I sleep with you to meet Mick Jones (of the sex pistols)?"
1. Hillary Duff. When I was valeting for a big event at my hotel, Hillary was one of the VIPs. I was bringing up a brand new range rover when I waited for my owner to come. After a minute or two, I was approached by a few men in suits with earpieces. I asked what the deal was, to which they responded that a big star was coming out. I asked who, and they of course responded it was the songstress of my summer. As I write this, my smile is ear to ear. It was unreal then. So, I waited and finally Hillary came out, posed for a few pics with the papparazzi, and headed to this car. As she got in, I said hi with an idiot grin on my face (I couldn't for the life of me come up with anything better. Usually I am good with celebs. I have told Weinstein that I couldn't stand The Talented Mr. Ripley. I talked for a good ten minutes with Billy Bob Thorton while everyone else shuddered in fear, and even looked Hefner in the eyes and asked him if he thinks he may be responsible for the moral majority outcry and boomer retreat about sexuality) Moments later, as she put the car in drive and began to take it out of idle, a man comes up and bangs on the door. Hillary opened cautiously and baffeled. Before she could speak, the man simply told her that this was his car. There was some confusion until he pointed out his garage opener. So the Duff clan exited the car, watched him drive off and th mother looked at me and asked: "So where is Hillary's car?"
So it was mid october and I was going to Vegas. Mind you this was an unreal time where I live. We were in the midst of the recall election, which to me was essentially the ultimate reality dating show scenario. If it was TV it would boil down to this. "All right contestant bob, here is your decision. Do you choose to stay with your wife or leave her. Mind though, that if you choose to leave her, you must immediately find a new wife." I mean, really, isn't democracy supposed to be better than this. I mean, I believe in the constitution and in America. But I no longer beleive in our current democracy. And I say this alot, when people ask for examples, and I say "California 2004, Florida 2000, and Minnesota 1998." Really, we have had an election come down to faulty voting mechanisms and senile seniors, and in two of our biggest states, we have elected the leads of Predator for our govenors.
One more quick interjection. With the exception of diehard supporters, last weekend was a real awakening about the state of presidents and their voters. Where I work there is a Ronald Regan Suite. He used to rent out the top floor of the Fox Building two doors down from my hotel (it's the Nakatomi building in Die Hard, and seriously this brightens my day everytime I go to work there. I am just waiting for someone to throw a German corpse onto my car and yell WELCOME TO THE PARTY PAL!) Anyway, anyone under 30 ranted about how they hated Reagan. Anyone over 30 said that he was the greatest president of our life. Me, I really appreciate what Reagan did in the first few years of his presidency (slashing taxes where they needed to be cut, I mean we used to be able to write off credit card debt, easing up FCC restrictions for the spread of cable, and making Americans feel good about being Americans again, granted the Mircacle on Ice had so much to do with this its astounding)After his second term, not so much. He attacked the ghettos, sold arms to terrorists, and called single mothers immoral. All of those are awful. But these people were so split along the age line it was ludicrous. Mind you of course, we elected a muscleman to run the worlds 5th largest economy.
So off I went with the last of the my cash. Perhaps the only real upside of my breakup with my ex was that I wasn't going to cheat on her in Vegas. I am not saying this as an act of debauchery it is just simply one of those things in life you know, almost psychicly, that something bad is going to happen. I knew that if I went, I was going to hook up with a girl somehow while I was in Vegas. My uncle lived in Vegas for about a decade. He told me simply that there is one surefire way to get laid in Vegas. How to, you ask? Leave your room.
I of course was flush with the boundless optimism of Vegas. I would go there, get laid, make enough money to pay my rent and live happily ever after. Not one of the three panned out. Nonetheless, I had an amazing time. We had a dinner that left all of us so full we were demoralized, my exact sentiments when we got in a limo was "fuck strippers, I just want to lay down and digest for a good hour." I went to my first strip club, and due to the fact that I had sex in the week before (including one event where she puked on my bed) and I was still messed up from my breakup, most of the time all I could do is admire the girls skin. I mean, really, have you ever felt a stripper? It's unreal how soft they are, it's like your childhood blanket with boobs. But at the end of the night, I was at a blackjack table, making jokes about my future govenor along the lines "get ya ahss to masss" with a friend of 20 years and randoms that got the jokes. As I stumbled to my room in daylight, I was left with the feeling of Vegas, baby. (another highlight, I was driving a friend home for his business trip and he thought he had lost his cell phone. The cell, of course, was in the back of the car. But this man, Brad, has the ability to convince anyone, including himself that the worst is coming, including one tale when he revved up everyone so much on one trip that they were convinced that writings on their bananas were from a serial killer known as Bananaman.)
So then was the wedding two weeks later back in my home state where I faced my folks for the first time since graduation. There are few faces like the, "we're so glad to see you, but what are you doing with your life, seriously?" look in life.
Days after I got home, I began to valet again. I had valeted during my senior year and made more money than any 18 year old should have. I bought every CD I ever wanted. I spent close to 1000 on cigars alone. I ate out constantly. Life lesson 53, the more things change, the more they stay the same. And so I was valeting again and taking in cash to pay for details and having a paycheck for utilites and rent. Small note, on my flight home I was seated near Lou Ferigno, aka the incredible hulk. Three days later, I valet his car. Only in Hollywood.
And then I went home for christmas and had to leave New Years Eve because of ticket prices. So I found myself back home with little money and less faith in myself. As I left, I had to ask my dad for some cash for rent. Few things are worse than asking a parent for help when you are supposed to be out on your own. They are willing, but they aren't happy about it. So come new years eve 2003, I found myself in DFW in the airport fridays across from my single serving friend from the flight before. I suppose it was better than two years before when I was walking 7 miles in 3 degree cold to a hotel with a great friend, pretty much out of sheer spite, and arriving at 6 am at the hotel, only to wake up later and effectively shit out my mouth in the morning. But after a heartwarming hookup with my airport friend, I was in the air again.
When I got home, the typical LA gunshots into the air were along with the fireworks for the new year. And I was now Jet Lagged beyond belief. This would continue until today,
But the rest is for later, I'll finish.
Hopefully this trilogy won't have a climatic chapter with Ewoks.
Till then
David
Anyway, there is a reason why most films about college suck. With the exception of Animal House which was more like the Marx Brothers go to school, almost every college film or TV since that featured students of age (this excludes Back to School with Rodney Dangerfield, Homer goes to College, and the Futurama at Mars U and Old School) has been close to terrible. For every moment of genius we get like a man composing a thesis that there is always a film with Michael Caine or Gene Hackman on TV, we get something on the whole like Van Wilder and the like.
With high school, the universal expeiriences are of love, friendship and competition can be transcendant becuase they are part of a universal experience and a sense of innocent and joyful recollection, and are seriously relatable because they are in essence human. In short, there is a reason why we remember our first loves and our friends we grew up with. You cannot duplicate the first time. It's always nice to hear someone tell a story about this, whether it is in film or fireside chat, because it's like hearing a new twist on a favorite memory.
With college, all great tales are essentially of debauchery and competition. Banging two chicks at a time is a great accomplishment for the 19 year old b-b-boy, but it's ultimately nothing special. It is a great gateway for recollection with friends, but you aint going to be telling your tale of winding up in a graveyard to your kids as you may about winning in high school. (Both are accomplishments are their level) Let me say that if anything, clichés cannot possibly do college and its inhabitant’s justice. Every subculture character, the frat guy, the nerd, the jock, the blonde haired sorority girl, the pothead, musician, and endless stereotypes are innumerable at any institution. Most of the myths and fables of college life are not only prevalent but abound on near any given college campus. From the movies to the books to the websites, it is dead on. But there is something that no text I have ever come upon has gotten right or remotely stumbled onto; college is immensely boring. Overwhelmingly, mercilessly, paralyzingly and dehumanizingly boring.
It is supposed to be the time of your life, and in many ways, it is. It can be fun, liberating, and mind expanding. But falling to this belief ruins the real experience. College has become a commodity in almost every sense of its purpose. It is the place where one is “supposed” to experiment with drugs, sex, and alcohol. It is a time when it is ok to do crazy ridiculous things. When the time is done, you move on, and then you enter real life. Students refers to it as “part of the College experiment,” a time in their life when they acted aside from their personality lines calling it “a phase.” The sad result of this is that discounting college experiences demeans the whole incident because it relegates it to a time when they are not living their life, but acting outside of their personality. Once you learn that most every college student is stuck in this temporal, 4-year mindset, you begin to realize how worthlessly shallow and hollow they and the experience both are.
People are very rarely the people they are; they are stuck between the person they were at the end of high school, full of ambition, dreams and hope, and the person at the end, disheveled, totally free, and having to face life without their parents for their first time in their life. When people get to college, often the freedom and pleasure of the place works against the entire process of growing up. They then become part of that system of clichés that dominate. They become in one way or another a member of a social subculture, most do it subconsciously to be what they wanted to be in high school or consciously to fit in.
This is what makes college something of aberrance in human psychology; it is a place where it is ok to succumb to the trends, to act out of your natural character. This trend is what dominates and shapes college life. I would call it college culture, but that would be a misnomer, for college is nothing more than a collective mass of subcultures, living in harmony relegating the whole college atmosphere to a collection of cliques. By the end of the college cycle, many Juniors and Seniors are dying to get out of it, “the time their lives” because they have unwilling succumb to a horrible routine and they can wait to break out of it and get into the real world. These are the usually the same people who reminisce the strongest. Everytime I heard a soon to be graduate say "I can't wait to get out and have a real job" or "It's great sleeping with soroity girls, but I need someting more" I just wanted to throttle them. I mean, people rarely got it.
So I guess, in the self ordained level of enlightenment about college I had come to, it was nigh impossible to let go. For every moment I thought that a 9-5 job with benefits was something worth having, (essentially the little angel appearing to get in a reminder that at some point I had to grow up) , I would continue to think of the final moments of a bad movie which sticks with you in the way that high school movies do and college movies don't.
The movie was Biloxi Blues, which for those who never saw it, it is all about Matthew Broderick as a new yorker going into the army. I suppose it's decent, but its a little long winded and didactic (it's hard to find the middle ground in army movies, you can either do Mash or Private Ryan, the inbetween is preachy and verbose). However, it closes with a line (I'm paraphrasing here...or misquoting, I never know) "I look back on these times with joy. I loved the expeirience for the most selfish of reasons, because I was young."
So thus we return to my actual saga of life instead of my supposistion about it. Finding it impossible to break in to a decent job in any field, I was forced outside of my chosen field for the simple reason of keeping myself fed and sheltered, I took up at in internship for the sad, yet simple reason of padding a resume. My plan was to take a short side path as a lackey and then turn into a career after a few months.
Perhaps the greatest fallicy of college is that it will yeild you a job when your four years are up. Whether you major in business, law, linux or literature, the jobs are not exactly there. Clearly those who are graduating are more educated, more elloquent, armed with theory and history than those who did not graduate. It may be due to our shoddy economy, but the truth of the matter is those of us who went to college are now going to be underneath many of our high school compatriots who entered the working world instead of university and have since moved up. In one of the first weeks at my current job I met a kid who had moved just moved from Chicago. He had planned to go, ironically, to USC film school as I was, but instead decided to build up some money to ease the tension of student loans that were to come. Starting as a lawn mower in 99 at 8.50 an hour, he left in mid 2003 with a salary of 42,000 and a mercedes benz, paid for in half by his company. He was entering the world I had just left and leaving behind the world I myself was now entering, with a benz to boot, no less. It is a tribute, I guess to the creative mind, but for those with a creative bone in their body see a blast of ironic instead of a glimmer of the American spirit. Ironically, it is people in cases like this that take many of the entry level jobs and force so many of those with simple bachleors back to earn a more formal degree.
The flip side of course was the struggle that was keeping myself afloat financially. The trick was getting started. And So I'll go back to Mid October. About the same time I was starting my internship and watching the cubbies suffer a death more horrible than imaginable, and then watching the Red Sox suffer a worse fate, I headed to Vegas for a bachleor party. Perhaps the single greatest feature of living in LA, even moreso than the occasional odd celeb encounter, is that you are hours from Vegas. but more on that in a bit, my top four celeb experiences:
4. The violinist from the band Flogging Molly. I said to her "I love your work. Here, let me buy your next round, I d'ld your band with out paying. Then we'll be even"
3. The google guys, and having a banker friend tell them that he needed 2.5 percent of their worth to be their banker. Only later did we tell him who they were. You know the face a man makes when he messes up with his girlfriend and it suddenly dawns on him he may not get laid for weeks. Multiply that by 100.
2. The wife of the guitarist of Def Leppard. It was real hard for me not to yell: "Hello cleveland!" I did however say, "So can I sleep with you to meet Mick Jones (of the sex pistols)?"
1. Hillary Duff. When I was valeting for a big event at my hotel, Hillary was one of the VIPs. I was bringing up a brand new range rover when I waited for my owner to come. After a minute or two, I was approached by a few men in suits with earpieces. I asked what the deal was, to which they responded that a big star was coming out. I asked who, and they of course responded it was the songstress of my summer. As I write this, my smile is ear to ear. It was unreal then. So, I waited and finally Hillary came out, posed for a few pics with the papparazzi, and headed to this car. As she got in, I said hi with an idiot grin on my face (I couldn't for the life of me come up with anything better. Usually I am good with celebs. I have told Weinstein that I couldn't stand The Talented Mr. Ripley. I talked for a good ten minutes with Billy Bob Thorton while everyone else shuddered in fear, and even looked Hefner in the eyes and asked him if he thinks he may be responsible for the moral majority outcry and boomer retreat about sexuality) Moments later, as she put the car in drive and began to take it out of idle, a man comes up and bangs on the door. Hillary opened cautiously and baffeled. Before she could speak, the man simply told her that this was his car. There was some confusion until he pointed out his garage opener. So the Duff clan exited the car, watched him drive off and th mother looked at me and asked: "So where is Hillary's car?"
So it was mid october and I was going to Vegas. Mind you this was an unreal time where I live. We were in the midst of the recall election, which to me was essentially the ultimate reality dating show scenario. If it was TV it would boil down to this. "All right contestant bob, here is your decision. Do you choose to stay with your wife or leave her. Mind though, that if you choose to leave her, you must immediately find a new wife." I mean, really, isn't democracy supposed to be better than this. I mean, I believe in the constitution and in America. But I no longer beleive in our current democracy. And I say this alot, when people ask for examples, and I say "California 2004, Florida 2000, and Minnesota 1998." Really, we have had an election come down to faulty voting mechanisms and senile seniors, and in two of our biggest states, we have elected the leads of Predator for our govenors.
One more quick interjection. With the exception of diehard supporters, last weekend was a real awakening about the state of presidents and their voters. Where I work there is a Ronald Regan Suite. He used to rent out the top floor of the Fox Building two doors down from my hotel (it's the Nakatomi building in Die Hard, and seriously this brightens my day everytime I go to work there. I am just waiting for someone to throw a German corpse onto my car and yell WELCOME TO THE PARTY PAL!) Anyway, anyone under 30 ranted about how they hated Reagan. Anyone over 30 said that he was the greatest president of our life. Me, I really appreciate what Reagan did in the first few years of his presidency (slashing taxes where they needed to be cut, I mean we used to be able to write off credit card debt, easing up FCC restrictions for the spread of cable, and making Americans feel good about being Americans again, granted the Mircacle on Ice had so much to do with this its astounding)After his second term, not so much. He attacked the ghettos, sold arms to terrorists, and called single mothers immoral. All of those are awful. But these people were so split along the age line it was ludicrous. Mind you of course, we elected a muscleman to run the worlds 5th largest economy.
So off I went with the last of the my cash. Perhaps the only real upside of my breakup with my ex was that I wasn't going to cheat on her in Vegas. I am not saying this as an act of debauchery it is just simply one of those things in life you know, almost psychicly, that something bad is going to happen. I knew that if I went, I was going to hook up with a girl somehow while I was in Vegas. My uncle lived in Vegas for about a decade. He told me simply that there is one surefire way to get laid in Vegas. How to, you ask? Leave your room.
I of course was flush with the boundless optimism of Vegas. I would go there, get laid, make enough money to pay my rent and live happily ever after. Not one of the three panned out. Nonetheless, I had an amazing time. We had a dinner that left all of us so full we were demoralized, my exact sentiments when we got in a limo was "fuck strippers, I just want to lay down and digest for a good hour." I went to my first strip club, and due to the fact that I had sex in the week before (including one event where she puked on my bed) and I was still messed up from my breakup, most of the time all I could do is admire the girls skin. I mean, really, have you ever felt a stripper? It's unreal how soft they are, it's like your childhood blanket with boobs. But at the end of the night, I was at a blackjack table, making jokes about my future govenor along the lines "get ya ahss to masss" with a friend of 20 years and randoms that got the jokes. As I stumbled to my room in daylight, I was left with the feeling of Vegas, baby. (another highlight, I was driving a friend home for his business trip and he thought he had lost his cell phone. The cell, of course, was in the back of the car. But this man, Brad, has the ability to convince anyone, including himself that the worst is coming, including one tale when he revved up everyone so much on one trip that they were convinced that writings on their bananas were from a serial killer known as Bananaman.)
So then was the wedding two weeks later back in my home state where I faced my folks for the first time since graduation. There are few faces like the, "we're so glad to see you, but what are you doing with your life, seriously?" look in life.
Days after I got home, I began to valet again. I had valeted during my senior year and made more money than any 18 year old should have. I bought every CD I ever wanted. I spent close to 1000 on cigars alone. I ate out constantly. Life lesson 53, the more things change, the more they stay the same. And so I was valeting again and taking in cash to pay for details and having a paycheck for utilites and rent. Small note, on my flight home I was seated near Lou Ferigno, aka the incredible hulk. Three days later, I valet his car. Only in Hollywood.
And then I went home for christmas and had to leave New Years Eve because of ticket prices. So I found myself back home with little money and less faith in myself. As I left, I had to ask my dad for some cash for rent. Few things are worse than asking a parent for help when you are supposed to be out on your own. They are willing, but they aren't happy about it. So come new years eve 2003, I found myself in DFW in the airport fridays across from my single serving friend from the flight before. I suppose it was better than two years before when I was walking 7 miles in 3 degree cold to a hotel with a great friend, pretty much out of sheer spite, and arriving at 6 am at the hotel, only to wake up later and effectively shit out my mouth in the morning. But after a heartwarming hookup with my airport friend, I was in the air again.
When I got home, the typical LA gunshots into the air were along with the fireworks for the new year. And I was now Jet Lagged beyond belief. This would continue until today,
But the rest is for later, I'll finish.
Hopefully this trilogy won't have a climatic chapter with Ewoks.
Till then
David
posted by Indiana at
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