Thursday, May 26, 2011

My Day At The Races

So the title of this blog post is a joke. I was not at the races yesterday, but, instead, was experiencing the antithesis of a day at the racetrack. I guess 'antithesis' isn't the right word really, though, because there was a lot of sitting on a my ass watching other people freak out about the little slips of paper they held in their hands, but the little pieces of paper I'm talking about weren't betting slips. No, they were something far, far worse...they were airline boarding passes.

All the itinerant bad weather had seriously screwed up the air travel world, so much so that I saw more delayed and canceled flights then on time ones yesterday as I sat in the Manchester Airport in New Hampshire–after driving by Robert Frost's childhood home on the way, how cool is that?–while I waited for my flight.

The irony was that my flight was one of the few that was on time. I counted myself among the lucky as I sat across from an elderly couple–the woman in a wheelchair–as they tried to decide what to do with themselves because their flight to Chicago wasn't happening that day. Period. I felt pretty bad for them. If they'd been heading to LA, I might've even given'em my ticket, it was that pathetic to see them struggling.

But LA wasn't their destination, so I climbed on board my flight and thanked my lucky stars. Until we got to the runway and had to turn around because of a generator failure. We taxied back to where we'd come from and sat on the plane for the next two hours while they tried to figure out what to do with us. To everyone's amazement, they actually got the plan working again and we took off, heading for Phoenix and for all those missed connections. Only, as we hit the air, a rumor started circulating through the plane that no one was missing their connection 'cause all the flights–except the peeps going to Orange County and Portland–had been delayed.

It was ironic and kind of weird.

I spent the remainder of the flight drinking a bloody mary, trying to write, but mostly watching Season 2 of The Wire. We landed in Phoenix and the rumor proved true. I saw my dazed compatriots checking out the flight board and scratching their heads. Everyone had at least an hour or four to wait for their original, now delayed flights...even the Orange County peeps made their flight 'cause the airplane held an extra few minutes for them.

After seven hours with no food, except two tiny bags of peanuts and an equally minute bag of baked pita chips, I had a killer headache (the bloody mary didn't help the headache like I'd hoped and was my original impetus for drinking). I had three and a half hours to kill so I ate a cheeseburger that I'm pretty sure came out of a freezer bag and watched more Wire.

At 11:10, after an almost 11 hour odyssey, I trudged onto the plane and promptly fell asleep. I've never slept in my hard contacts before and, after that experience, I wouldn't really recommend it to anyone.

I got to LA and got my bag and was standing at the curb of Southwest Airlines at 1AM.

I don't know why I felt like sharing my yesterday with you, but there it is.

You know what the funny thing is? It really wasn't that bad. People have much crappier things happening to'em in this world right now. In the end, I got where I needed to go, I didn't get beaten up and there was always a restroom to use.

It was a win/'sort of' win...and, really, isn't that all you can ask for from a Wednesday?

Wednesday, May 25, 2011


I just can't seem to get anything done until I've had my first cup of coffee. Seriously, it's like I'm in a fog when I get up and that fog doesn't lift until I've downed coffee #1 for the day. I don't want to drive or make a phone call or do ANYTHING until #1 has settled into my blood stream. It's really getting ridiculous.

I've tried going cold turkey and quitting coffee, but then I get a massive headache...that lasts for a week. Once that's gone, I'm tired and uncommunicative and unable to get through a day without yawning a hundred and fifty times. I'm a different person when I'm coffee-less.

I'm siting here right now imbibing the stuff and writing this. If I wasn't drinking the coffee, this is how my last sentence would read:

dhgfjng;lojre90ugol'mslaojhfuigfqeuvx iowej iejfiwnv wir uwcnupord oiqwdjqof o

Does that make any sense to you? It's gibberish to me.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

I Am Being Taken To Task!

So a little while ago, I made a deal with you guys that if I reached 200 reviews on Amazon (international Amazon, too) for my book Cat's Claw then I would do a spoof/weirdo rendition of "Under Your Spell".

Well, the day has come. I am now at work on my little opus and it will be available for your perusal within the next ten days. So, keep your TV sets tuned in to this channel in the days ahead. I am going to blow my after this one, folks.

Amber...over and out.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Making Money The Old Fashioned Way

And by that I mean...PROSTITUTION.

I want to be an Internet prostitute. No, not that kind of Internet prostitute. I'm not interested in placing an escort ad in the back of the LA Weekly and seeing who likes my pic enough to email me for "a date".

I'm talking about the prostitution of my creativity to make a buck. It sounds bad, but I've decided that instead of railing against the institution and how awful it is, I'm just going to create my own institution...and then I can decide how much of myself I want to prostitute at any given time.

I think this is something all creative people need to do for themselves. We need to make our stuff and then get it out to the world ourselves. Sure, you can use distribution channels like amazon, hulu, youtube, itunes, etc - that's par for the course - but within that framework, you have to be the one calling the shots for yourself.

This way your creativity is unfettered by corporate business people trying to dictate what's funny, what beautiful, what's get the picture. All the decisions are then placed into your hands, and the hands of the people you have chosen to work with on a creative level.

You can make a living this way...look at all the VLOG peeps on Youtube making advertising revenue...all the self-published books that are finding their own only makes sense to get on the bandwagon now before the bandwagon leaves you behind.

The corporate structure of entertainment isn't really going to be viable forever. It's like a big, unwieldy dinosaur among a bunch of fleet-footed mammals. Sure, we're not talking tomorrow, but within the next twenty-five years, mark my words, how we get entertained is going to change. And only the corporate peeps who are willing to be flexible wither their business models are gonna survive.

It's like the wild west out there – 15 minutes of fame a la Andy Warhol – and anyone can become a star, a mover and shaker, a big mucky-muck.

Be in charge of your own content, make it available to the masses yourself. That's where it's at, man. I'm still half-antiquated, but I'm working on changing that.

I'm gonna be an Internet prostitute and damn excited about it.