"It's just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my funday
An I-don't-have-to-run day
It's just another manic Monday"
--Manic Monday, The Bangles
Why don't the Bangles get more love? They brought us this favorite, along with "Eternal Flame," "Walk Like an Egyptian" (that was kinda weird), a great "Hazy Shade of Winter" cover, and, so maybe they weren't the Go-Go's (who of course produced the solo act that was Belinda Carlisle of "Heaven is a Place on Earth" fame), but they were still great.
Okay, so I know it's not Monday, but the reason I'm writing on Tuesday is that Mondays no longer allow me even five minutes of free time to write; it's getting ridiculous. Today, on the other hand, I've already been able to glog twice, I'm currently blogging, and I'll have some time to read this script that my friend sent over yesterday, a movie I'm hoping to help get produced, but we'll see how that goes. I really like the story, and the Professor (Grayson Boucher) from And-1 is slated to play the lead, which got my attention right away. Rick Fox is attached to the project, and And-1 has agreed to do a bunch of back-end promotion, so for now, it's a matter of getting it to the right people (read: people with cash) and making sure it's a viable enterprise for them (and for us). Hopefully something good comes out of it.
A different weekend for me, since I'm accustomed to sitting out most weekend nights in the interest of rest and recovery from the long week. Instead, I decided to go out both Friday and Saturday, with mixed results. Went out to the pier on Friday, localized at Patrick Molloy's, which was pretty crowded and mildly entertaining. A six on the one-to-ten scale, I'd say. One issue was the amount of wind down there (not inside Molloy's, but on the walkway), causing all this sand to be whipped around in the air, ending up in teeth and eyeballs and whatnot--not so fun. Saturday night was a place called the Boa Lounge on Sunset, where I saw Johnnie Morton right when I walked in. Hollywood takes entirely too much effort (driving, parking, et al), but it was actually pretty fun. Definitely some attractive females in the building, but the majority of the clientele seemed a little too trendy for my tastes. I don't think I relish the fact that I'm in the "industry" at all, because I certainly don't identify with the image associated with most producers. I don't even identify with most of the industry-types at Bel Air, which has pretty much become completely invaded by entertainment people. Speaking of the house on the hill, I was able to attend the 11 a.m. service Sunday (a good sermon from Roger Dermody, a former seminary pal of one Kevin Sheldahl), and briefly met up with some friends before heading down to play some Brentwood ball. Went undefeated at the B for the second straight week, then jetted out a bit early to watch as much Tiger as possible. Golf is so much better when he's winning, without question. The only two tournaments I've watched on Sunday this year have been Tiger vs. Phil at the Doral and now the Masters. I hope this means that he's all the way back and ready to make a run at least one more major this year, because there something different about watching him win (or even just compete at the top) as opposed to Lefty, Vijay or Ernie. Had a chance for a very brief phone conversation with the last-weekend girl (she'll get a name when her relative signifance merits it) before our game, which ended up being one of the more boring affairs of the campaign thus far. Two straight weeks I've felt like I wanted to play another hour after the game was over, this time because we pressed our way to a 30-something-point win, never even thinking about being challenged (I think it was 15-2 at one point). One more regular-season game (the rematch with the squad which dealt us our first defeat, albeit a Chad-less one) and then the playoffs, so hopefully we're peaking at the right time. Anyone who's never had a chance to play consistently with the Seaster Bunny, er, Rob Seastrom, is missing out big time. Trust me.
With b***ball temporarily on the unable-to-discuss list (it's sitting out while I appeal the suspension), I suppose we can use a little hoops up in here. At halftime of the Laker game last night (another loss, what a surprise), they honored the 1985 World Championship team, the first visiting team ever to win a title in Boston Garden, and the first of three titles in four years for that Showtime group. Pretty much everyone was there: West, Riles, Kareem, Magic, Big Game James, Byron, Coop, Silk, Rambis, McAdoo, Mitch and even Larry Spriggs. At least they got to watch a good team play--Phoenix. Those Suns are probably the best fastbreak team since the Showtime Lakers, though the early-90's Blazers weren't bad. It's a sad state of affairs in the NBA (and Sports Guy agrees with this point) that when a point guard--Nash--actually plays the position like it's meant to be played, it's time to anoint him as the MVP. He's had a great year, obviously, but in the 80's there were ten guys a year who played like that, and only Magic was ever deserving of the trophy.
Good jam session with Bernie last night, playing ridiculous stuff like "Kiss From a Rose" and the Growing Pains theme song in addition to some Blink 182, Hootie and other assorted favorites. The guitar bug is returning, and that's a good thing.
Basketball line of the night: George Karl's on the show tonight, so I'm a little biased (plus the Clippers didn't play), but Carmelo was awesome. 32 points (on 12-of-16 shooting) and 9 rebounds, helping those Nug-pups clinch a playoff spot for the second straight year, something that was nowhere near a foregone conclusion when George Karl took over for Jeff Bzdelik earlier in the season. They've now won 22 of 24 (both losses were to Phoenix), which is absurd.
Getting ready for Peavy vs. Prior in a couple hours (they both play the sport we won't mention, and one of them is the star ball-thrower for my favored squad), but I can't talk about it. Peace.
