meeting old people is easy
So for a good period of time when I first moved to L.A., I never answered the phone. Not once. I always let the machine pick up, mainly because I did not want to talk to an ex-girlfriend, and probably because I had recently received the bad news of my fathers sudden demise via the phone and was now scared of the thing. Now, I still hate the phone, but Ive been picking up lately. Its only bad when certain people call who are TALKERS and I sigh and get comfortable, knowing I will be a LISTENER for the next hour. Thats me, Im a listener with these people. Going off on phone monologues just doesnt interest me. Talking about the minutiae of my life doesnt interest me (except here!), so while I dislike the phone, its probably good that I have some CHAMPIONSHIP TALKERS for friends because I can just pretend Im listening to the radio.
(Tangent #1: Interesting acting/life exercise: Get with a partner, boyfriend, crack whore and sit down. One person then talks for 10 minutes, while the other person just listens. JUST listens. No "hmmms" no "uh-huhs", no nodding. Nothing. Just listen. And then switch. Im telling you, its fucking disconcerting to have someone not giving us our little meaningless reassurances that theyre listening. Its also a bit freeing. Try it.)
Anyhoo, one of the Last Remaining Stee Relatives (death surrounds me nothing I can do about it) is a 92 year-old Great Aunt who lives in a retirement community somewhere in Indiana. So during my yearly Christmas conversation with the still fairly lucid but increasingly batty woman, she decides she loves talking to me so much shes going get my phone number from my mother and call me in Los Angeles. Well, I figured shed forget about it
So early last night I was home from work and a friend had just given me a videotape to watch a porno she said was particularly good. So Im relaxing, watching a little humping when the phone rings. I hit mute and pick up the phone. Yup, I spent the next 45 minutes talking to a batty 92 year-old woman while people fucked silently on my TV. Mostly I was just listening and laughing at the juxtaposition. And maybe its cruel, but for someone who hates talking on the phone in the first place, the notion that any time the phone rings it could easily be a bored nonagenarian makes me want to rip the unit from the wall and rig up a good old fashioned tin can and string system that couldnt possibly reach all the way to Indiana. I think next time I get caught by the damned call waiting and its her, Im going to talk to her the way I would to Todd or Shannon. Funny thing is it probably wouldnt freak her out. Shes one of them tough old broads.
Incidentally, while Im on a hell-bound roll here: why is it that old people, when you stupidly ask them how they are, cant just say "fine"? Nooooooooo. They have to list the litany of their ailments and increasingly common brain misfirings, leaving you with nothing to say but, "Huh. That sucks."
OK, on a less complete asshole thread, last night I had a bit of a stray cat situation. Frank and I were having a meeting at my place, drinking beers, giving each other script notes and discussing the continued life of the short we co-directed.
(Tangent #2: I dont think I mentioned this to you pw readers, but the night before I left for Christmas, I was at Staples buying a ream of paper [heh, you said ream] when a guy stops me and is all, "are you stee?" Turns out homeboy is Director of Something at BIG OL PRODUCTION COMPANY. Hed a while ago wanted to read my script and since hed never gotten around to reading it, I sent him the short as a prod, as I did to others whod read the script. So he goes on to basically stroke my cock in the middle of Staples, telling me how much he and the whole office loves the short and they sent it off to New York (?) and I should call him in the new year. This was a good thing because we had not heard much feedback from outsiders. Havent yet called him.)
So Frank and I go down to the store and were walking back up the hill when this little orange tabby starts following us. He ended up following all the way to my apartment so I put some milk on the back porch, which he drank. He then came inside and basically jumped from lap to lap for the next hour, occasionally licking his balls. He was in good shape but fairly skinny, dirty, and obviously not neutered (man, I forget how big cats balls can be, jesus!)
In the end I decided he was much too well-mannered and unskittish to be a stray. So I let him outside and saw if he followed me as I walked Frank to his car. He did, but then didnt come back to my place, so Ill just keep an eye out for him. Cool cat.
My lady is doing New York for a couple weeks. (Well, I hope shes not actually doing New York Hey, New Yorkers, if you see a blonde making out by the pool table with random guys down at Phebes lemme know. She swears those days are behind her...) And in totally unrelated commemoration of the impending event, Im having a big-ass poker game at my house tonight. So guyish, I know. But starting tomorrow Ill have M.s cat around, and she doesnt much like people. Plus poker will give me an excuse to clean the 4 inches of dust beneath my table not to mention to drink and smoke too much.
I think this bares repeating from way back in July: the George Clooney Theorem. This is a theorem I created that basically proves that George Clooney is mathematically more important than me.
GC STEE = +X
It follows: "Most likely you can plug yourself into the "STEE" integer, and the theorem would also prove true. Sorry to tell you folks, but I think the sooner you realize this fact, the more pleasant life will be for you: Clooney is much more important than you. Wait, to my baby girl, I am much more important than Clooney. Nope. Sorry. It seems as if that would be true, but even to your baby girl, Clooney wins."
So the latest evidence that the George Clooney Theorem is indeed correct is that hes now putting together, through his production company, an effort to bring back live TV. He was one of the main forces behind ERs 1997 live episode (which I thought suffered from the technical comparison to the rest of the episodes you were used to seeing these sets and actors on film) and has just announced that he will produce and star in a live black and white production of Fail-Safe. Noah Wylie will also be on board. Clooney plans to do about 3 of these a year a throwback to the old days of Texaco Star Theatre and such. Once again, Clooney wins.
What does it mean when you havent eaten red meat in 11 years and you suddenly crave a huge bloody steak?
The Larry King Happy