Hell On Earth

is redundant. Life is hell, not to be confused with the comic I read during the late 70's; Life In Hell. Simply drawn characters once a week in the LA Weekly, which is where I got my entertainment while matriculating at the University of Stupendous Choices. 40 years ago, I was supposedly a senior or at least I was acting like it, and exactly a year left with my father on this planet.

I wasn't going to talk or write about this today, however, I looked at the date, and today is the annual remembrance. Forty is a good number, and it's Biblical too. What a deal! Would I have made difference choices had I known? Spent more time with him, and less at school with my transitory friends of which I'm only in touch with one or two x many years later?

Clearly my parents wanted me educated, as ultimately, it cost me my house. Bad choices made. I could've been a guy that got an AA at the local community college, I believe LA Valley right next to Grant High, however, that was way far away at that point.... Less money however, and maybe we save the house. Do I get the same education? I did meet this one blonde girl during orientation that came into the school as a junior, as she did what I described above. It was cool. Never saw her again either. She was two years ahead of me after all.

Would I be sitting at a desk in North Hollywood or as it's called today Valley Village, and typing these same words instead? Was there any possibility that my father would've lived longer? Did I do well enough by him? These questions come up today, as he wasn't there at graduation, as that took place in the May following his death. Damn.

What I'm saying here is that I'm rapidly approaching the age at which he died. There's better medical technology out there, and as a result of free drugs from my health plan, I'll most definitely live longer than he did, however, have I lived any better? I have two kids, however, he and my mother were lucky to have one. Back then, they didn't think they could get pregnant, as I was born 17 years after they got married. That's a lifetime for some of you that may read this eventually.

I know I'm going to live longer, however, that's not the point. Is it about leaving a mark, or moving forward and making better choices so that my life ultimately means something, as opposed to the hill of beans talked about in the scene from one of my favorite movies....

I didn't truly realize that my parents weren't going to live to see me get married, have kids, and enjoy the fruits of my labor. That reminds me; I need to eat a banana today. The need to survive, and do something resembling anything that may last well beyond my lifetime if I don't live forever exists. Did my father give me the proper tools the time he was on this earth?

I'd like to believe that he did. It was time to learn magic and pursue it somewhat professionally after he moved on. Intellectually, I knew how to do things, however, the performance is key, and bringing people into your type of shall we say circle takes practice and time. If he had lived longer, I probably would've had to come up with my own money to join The Castle. I would have a different membership number too.

Having a single digit membership number to the most exclusive club on this or any other planet is cool. There's truly only nine people on earth that can say that. Sure, I should be on one of the boards, however, that's an elected position, and during these tough times, running a campaign to win a seat without knowing anyone would be a chore, and we know how I hate chores. It's why this place is such a mess after all.

Yes, I had two parents that loved me, however, I never truly had an adult relationship with either of them, therefore the need to achieve this with my children exists. However, I don't have any experience with that, as I was always treated as a child whenever I was at home. Maybe it truly is the University of Spoiled Children. There's more acronyms, like The University of Second Choice.

The Safety School option. However, if your parents tell you you're going to USC, then you're going to USC. They made it happen for me, and for this, I thank not only my father, but my mother as well. 

72 and sunny in Redondo Beach, even though it's painfully windy right now. 

Adjust your expectations accordingly.™

 

This Raises The Question

Oh, yeah? 

I think it's time for yet another remake of The Man Who Knew Too Much. The most famous version is the one with James Stewart, however, Hitchcock made that movie at least one other time before that. 

Now, I'm no Alfred Hitchcock, unless I am for all the wrong reasons, however I do make movies on a more than an occasional basis. Well, at least that's what THEY call them. Who are they?

For the most part, it's those that make decisions that directly affect you, no matter what you do, or where you are. You have absolutely no control over THEM, therefore, paying attention is a good thing to a point where you decide that THEY are wrong! 

The sermon at church today boiled downto exactly this, and before you bail because I made downto one word, I say, "It's a programming thing." Everyone has their own opinion, and you know what those are like. Maybe you don't, but I like to get a PG rating on this blog every once in awhile. 

Why do I think a classic should be made again, when I eschew remakes? The easy answer is that I'm a hypocrite.  The longer answer to fill my arbitrary word count to make some semblance of sense appears following. 

We live in the Too Much Information Age. I was talking about this today with the doctor that tested me for COVID.  Fully half the information available to you today conflicts with the other half. Who do you trust? Not to be confused or confuzzed(sic) with the game show hosted by Johnny Carson before he became The Tonight Show host. 

If I had the time, I could search for the article I read sometime last year, but it basically states that with the invention of modern conveniences up to and including the computer, tablet, phone, or whatever you're using to read this, has created an explosion of information, and over the last century we've created as much recorded information as existed before these inventions. 

I could probably perform a search and maybe find the graph from the article itself. What does this have to do with the title of this missive? Better yet, why did I start this way, and more importantly, why the Johnny Carson reference?

In no particular order of importance; Carson had a character: Floyd R Turnbow, American. He'd come out and monologue about everything that's wrong with the country in general, and how it affected him in particular. Around the middle, he'd say something like, "This raises the question, kiss my grits!!!"

I know, it doesn't make too much sense, so, it's right up there with this bloviation about something I heard over 30 years ago. One time, he forgot, and said, "Oh, yeah?" 

When you're on the playground in elementary school, you'd have arguments like this. "Oh, yeah?" to which some other random punk kid would shoot back, "Yeah! What are you gonna do about it?" If there weren't any authority types around, a fight may break out. 

So, conflict breeds drama as previously discussed by me either here or elsewhere, and characters take action as a test of their well, character.  No matter what happens in a couple of weeks and beyond, I'm going to need to make a movie.   I know what it should be about, however, as previously stated, I may BE the man who knows too much.

72 and sunny in Redondo Beach. Adjust Your Expectations Accordingly™

I Should Write A Book

Oh, wait. I have. It just hasn't been published yet. I read somewhere that Alan Moore, a writer I've respected since the 80's when I met him at Comic Con, wrote a million words that he wants to publish unedited.

I'm up to a million words or so myself, however, I'm not as pretentious as that, although, I am shooting my next movie in Black & White, therefore the jury is still out on that one....

The real point here is that I have written for various publications including my own here and elsewhere, and taking the time to make it all coalesce into some semblance of something you could put on your bookshelf, or even in a local library, may take more time than I have.

As you know, there's only 168 hours in a week, and there's that song from Rent that tells us how many minutes in a year.  Use your time wisely, or, do what everyone else is apparently doing: Invent Time Travel.

The last season of Marvel Agents of SHIELD decided to do some very science fictiony things, up to and including using time travel every episode, in order to figure out the Chronocoms long game.

I think it's simply being patient and waiting for us to blow ourselves up as we are on the verge of doing, but I think the show is only upto the 70's as of the last time I watched.

I've written on this phenomenon before, so no need to go into it again, however, time travel seems to exist as a plot device in order to merit its very existence.   Oh, the company that did NOT invent the multiverse is claiming that it's the latest and greatest thing, and theirs is better than the Dynamic Competition.

We're in a strange place these days, what with COVID-19 or whatever you want to call it wreaking havoc across the planet.  My life has improved as a result, however, getting hit by a truck tomorrow could happen, and then where would I be?

My Immortal Soul would survive, and depending on the various belief systems would end up somewhere.  I don't truly want to start all over again, however, that's how this stuff may work. There's several theories out there and most of them conflict with the others, and they believe that theirs is the only right way.

I don't truly have a conclusion to this missive, and I'm not attempting to be funny for a change, however, I'm worried. How did I get to a point where caring too much about myself and others in my immediate circle became a bad thing?

A better question might be, when will the madness end?

I don't know the answers to either of the above, however I'm putting them out there for discussion and debate. Not that anyone will notice, as I've said it once, and I'll say it again; Not too many people know that I'm famous.

72 and sunny in Redondo Beach. Adjust your expectations accordingly™

Was Going To Write Something

Something.

Okay, there. It's done. Now I can get on with the rest of my day. This raises the question, "Why do they call it Labor Day when nobody works?"  I'm here because I'm avoiding the paid assignment.

Messed up, right?

I've signed several NDA's as well, therefore I can't even truly talk about it. However, there's no clause in any of them that says I can't talk about the NDA's themselves. You may have even signed one yourself without knowing it. Aside: A verbal contract is worth the paper it is written on.

How would you not know if you've signed an NDA? Well, it may be buried in a contract that you've signed with a company for which  you may or may not be currently working. Also, for the two or three of you out there that don't know the acronym: Non Disclosure Agreement.

The boilerplate is basically, "You can't talk about it, while we can!!!" It should truly be a mutual NDA, however, one side always gets the best of the other in these things, no matter who's who.  Like I said above, I've signed my share of them on both sides.

So, when someone asks you a question about where you work, before you check your contract say, "I can't talk about it." This gives you an air of mystery, and keeps 'em guessing.

Maybe that only works for me. I'm not sure. This isn't work, as defined above, therefore, I must be playing. The game of life. Not to be confused with the Milton Bradley version. Why, you may ask?

Maybe you didn't. I don't know truly. All I know is there's no square that states, "Achieve your career goal after x years on this planet, and have fun now...."

There's a pool just outside my apartment, and we've talked about that before, however, there's no party going on now. This makes no sense. It's probably why I can't concentrate to do the paid assignment. No outside distraction to tune out. Today's conundrum brought to you by, "Complacency!!!"

Well, it truly is 72 and sunny in Redondo Beach™

e You next time.

Why I Don't Post Everyday

I keep making the same mistake. I should just write these journal entries as soon as I get up in the morning, however timing is everything, and it takes about 20 minutes to get to this point even when I do that effectively. Today's mistake was reading my email first.

I'm a member of several "Lists", and one in particular mentioned something about being moderated on that particular thread. We all know our industry is incestuous, and at the same time, entertainment should NOT be political. However, most have gotten into this industry for the wrong reasons.

As a matter of public record, I rebelled against this industry for exactly that reason. I could've taken a different path growing up, and then maybe more of you would have heard of me, but as you already know, "Not too many people know that I'm famous."

I use that phrase every once in awhile to humble myself. It's almost hubris at this point, as I have a ranking on IMDb, unlike some of you. It's in the six digits, and it's not going to go up anytime soon, unless those that credit me do it properly. The call sheet should read, "Mike Shields II."

Anyone can find out how I think on a particular day by virtue of social media posts that I make either manually or automagically. That's right. One post in the wrong place, and suddenly all my followers, connections, and the like (not to be confused with "Like") will suddenly vanish. Do I become infamous at that point?

Maybe I am already. I don't know. I just know that I have work to do within the industry that was effectively chosen for me before God and everybody knew that I existed. I also vote a certain way depending on whose running. That should be who's.

The current broohaha or broowaha or however you spell it is simply about television ratings of the latest Emmy broadcast. Why have they dipped from last year a whopping 10%?

I gave my opinion, and started a thread that is currently being moderated. I was lucky enough to give my opinion first on this particular topic simply because no one else thought to reply to all. That's a bozo no no sometimes on these types of lists, as you get scolded by the list manager about a reply that should've gone to an individual via private message when you've done so.

A decision has to be made, and you have a choice. Delaying the decision, or deciding not to decide is still a choice, however after that, it's cause and effect. The Matrix Reloaded explored this very phenomenon. Remember the scene in the restaurant where the owner sent a tiramisu to a woman he fancied?

Ultimately, who decides what's right? Moral relativism is all the rage, and we all want to make money in this business we call show. The needs of the many will always outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one. There's probably a better way to write that with correct grammar, however nobody said this was a grammar lesson. Unless you did, then you're in the wrong class. That one's three blogs down on the left.

So, I'm walking a fine line. I believe in free will, and in this country, I have 1st and 2nd amendment rights. Without those two, the rest of the rest don't truly mean anything to me. My personal preference should not shade what you think about me.

Somehow, I've been put in a position of authority by virtue of my length of time pursuing fame and fortune. Did I ask for this? No. The media does this to me, and by extension, us. Everyone wants fame and fortune, but these days it seems like nobody wants to do the work to get it. Awards shows are great for acknowledgement within your particular industry, and there's a lot of cross pollenization by virtue of the fact that I was literally born into it, but again, I rebelled.

The reality is my education is well rounded as a result, and I have certain opinions that I share on more than an occasional basis, and some of you may read about them here or elsewhere. Getting paid to bloviate is great work if you can get it.

The phone rings. BRB

I could've written, "Be right back", to pad my word count, but I didn't.

So, to review, I have opinions that I write both here and elsewhere on more than an occasional basis, and you may choose to ignore them at your leisure or peril.  I may have covered the original reason why I wrote this in the first place, but that's for you to decide. Let me know in the comments.

72 and sunny in Redondo Beach. Adjust your expectations accordingly™

Why Am I...

Not awake today, AND I HAVE WORK TO DO!!! I ACCIDENTALLY HIT CAPS LOCK TOO!!! 

Bought coffee. One sip, and I'm already jittery. WTF?!? Why isn't WTF in the spellcheck
dictionary? Who am I going to inflict these words on? What was I thinking when I told her
I was going to write a book too, and we'll see who finishes first? 

Damn me. 

Hell is where when you go there, they have to take you in. Standing up in front of a
crowd of people that you may be meeting for the first time is scary. In fact, fear of public
speaking is a fear that most of you have. I know I don't. My mom put me on stage at
what, three, maybe four years old, and I did okay. I spoke lines in another language as
well. 

I'm still attempting to figure out what year that was. Teahouse of the August Moon. Tea
House is two words? Hey, that's great. Sakini. Cho demo'd key word memorization for us
at Van Mar. I wonder why Ivan didn't ask me? Intellectually, I get it. We can't all be on
stage at the same time. Unless we can, in which case, I may have to be the one to write
that scene.

It's the big production number. Phantom has one at the beginning, and one in the middle.
Masquerade has always been my favorite. Paper faces on parade. I guess that's where
my need to emcee comes from. You can be behind the scenes, or you can be in front.
The question becomes, "Can you do both at the same time?" 

I know I can. I can compartmentalize too. It's how you make a successful 168 Project film
that goes on to bigger and better things after. Blue Blazes. Seven years ago!!! 

Damn.
 
These morning brain dumps get harder and harder. I feel like I'm writing the same stuff
over and over. What am I selling? My book. Wait! It hasn't been published yet! 

Neither has hers. It's not a race. It's a calling. We can all write. We can all read unless
you're like a toddler. At some point, we all know our alphabet. We know how to
pronounce things, and most of us can gain meaning from context. The writing discipline

means that I should be writing something every day, and all the time.

But I can't sit here 24/7. To write what you know, you have to know about it. That doesn't

come from sitting at the keyboard all day. At some point, your brain will be completely
drained. Have I written something that others want to read? 

I DON"T KNOW! 

That's for you to decide. Do you share this? Do others come here and leave a comment?
Sometimes instantaneous gratification takes too long. Everyone wants success NOW!!! 

Do the hard work first, and then maybe you'll find your passion. It took me x years to do
that, and I needed the motivation of several amazing women to get to this point. You
may even meet a few of them in the future. 

You may not know that you have. They may not be with me at the time. I could start a
list, or simply post an #FF at the appropriate day, and then you'll figure it out. However,
most aren't on Twitter, unless they are. Have we discussed how Twitter, and by extension all of social media is a drug? 

Everyone wants to be famous, however no one wants to do the work. The 'net is the
culprit. By virtue of the fact that there's almost 8 Billion, yes, that's right, Billion with a
big fat B people on the planet, not too many people know that I'm famous.

Communications and the ability to broadcast myself out to the unwashed masses as they
were called back in the day allow us to put words in some semblance of an order to
allow for others to read them. 

We all have opinions on how things should work, and most things work the way we want
them to wrote he, before he took another sip of coffee. I may need to write a poem about
the need for tea, or coffee. 

What was the movie in the 60's? Coffee, Tea, Or Me? About stewardesses and how they were selling not only over priced liquor onboard, but themselves to the various passengers. 1969 is the year I remember, however that's ayear or two after I became self aware for the first time....

Well, that's the required. This will be posted elsewhere for commentary. Hope to see you
there!!!