8/19/2008 9:56:55 AM permalink
Where has all the genuine light hearted madness (and madmen\women) gone?
These days I find myself looking for the fun I used to have and the madness that followed 15 years ago.
31 is creeping up on me, and although I do not worry about it, I find myself these days rediscovering the energy of the past that brought about the laughter.
The tones may have changed, but it's essentially stayed the same.
From a far away state headed to me came a note in that old melody: Wave Race 64. It arrived in my mailbox yesterday, and the bouncing waves and tropical settings just set off the usual island lust I display in my shirts, my music, my laid back attitude (which has become more prevailing while my more neurotic hyped up side has calmed down quite a bit), and, yes, the occasional interest in smutty films starring Jesse Jane that just happened to be filmed in places like Bora Bora.
(As a side note, when Hollywood has been extra quiet on certain occasions, I have tried writing for Digital Playground. They need movie scripts too, but apparently not mine. Probably just as well.)
The title of this wandering bit of fluff is named after a chapter in the Jimmy Buffett novel "Where Is Joe Merchant?" You always know a good idea when you first see\hear\read it, because you (as a writer) instantly become envious that you didn't think of it first, and you're kicking yourself for not being as clever as you think you are. "Desdemona was a woman with a mission. She was up with the sun. There was no lounging in bed or drifting off to catch a few more winks. She was building a rocket ship.
"It was not exactly the line of work you would expect a former rock 'n' roll background singer and part-time cookie baker to be tackling. She had made Ds in science back in her high school days, but as of late she had become hopelessly entwined in some kind of puzzle that now had her aiming at the stars..."
...so reads the first two paragraphs of that chapter. Buffett goes on to describe the ship is named the Cosmic Muffin.
I first read that, laughed out loud, and wished I thought of it. And then followed the usual why can't I come up with something like that?
I've often wanted to turn to the tropics and add in my lazy days attitude and just have a free for all story involving something like that. But instead of trying to mine something in that vein, I immediately look in the opposite direction because I do my stuff, not me impersonating what others are doing.
I have a great interest in fiction that's set in South Florida, yet I don't know why.
I've never been to Florida. But I've read Dave Barry's novels "Big Trouble" and "Tricky Business," the first of which was better received by audiences. Barry fell victim to the "second outing curse" in a sense. (Although the bit about Harold Tutter introducing himself every 15 seconds to everyone cause he can't remember anything for over that amount of time was finely crafted.)
I look at Carl Hiassen's books with awe. I know there's a lot of fun going on in those pages, yet I haven't gone on a shopping spree to collect them all. The same goes for Elmore Leonard.
Fate must feel I have to stay put here in Arkansas, cause she knows should I dip my waters with dolphins swimming around me, I'll never come back. Fate says finish the damned scripts. There'll be plenty of time for that later.
My come back is always to hell with that. There's bouncing blue waters cresting on island shores. And there's plans to film Island Fever 5 - 9 here over the coming weeks. Screw you and your post it notes.
This area I'm in is a good place to live: blue skies stretch from high tree top from high tree top. There's an abundance of wildlife here, including all the squirrels, deer, my own cats, countless birds, tons of butterflies, and various other critters that come and go.
After it rains a good healthy downpour, you'd almost swear this is a rainforest I'm walking through.
It's also funny when townies hear about this place. I was once asked "you live the furthest out among us, was there snow out your way? Do you have problems getting to town?"
My answer was quite succinct: "yes it snowed, my roads are covered, and the only place I'm likely to encounter dangerous slippery roads is when I'm going through Frog Hollow."
"Frog Hollow?" Oh how the townies laughed. Yes, Frog Hollow. It's a nice little area that can be a bad spot in ice.
Desdemona's still working on her rocket ship. Dr. J. is on C-Island uncovering alien influences in "Startropics." There's gossip on the Coconut Telegraph and the controls of a Kawasaki jet ski are in the palm of my hand but I'm landlocked in front of my tv.
Even so, it's still all good.
*Post Script: yes, this is very much outside the Mania Stream. Every so often, just for fun, I put together these one sided conversations. They're far from important, not meant to start discussions, and so on.
These are subtle clues to see how my brain works (or doesn't) and what influences it.
I've also been known to refer to these as "Random Assemblages Of Nothing." Just a bunch of stuff thrown together and mixed all up in a somewhat incoherent form intended to get it out of my system.