HWY 1
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California’s mini Uluru [LINK]. The rock at Morro Bay [LINK]. Stayed here last night in a little seaside motel that had free videos. “Free Willy”, “Solarbabies”, and “Dunston Checks In” were some of the choices. I had asked about what movies were playing in town last night and the desk clerk rolled her eyes and said, “Chicago”. I was kinda disturbed that I agreed with her. She gave me directions in between hacking, coughing and spitting out street names. I think I found patient zero of the SARS [LINK] outbreak. Hit the road at 9:00 and pulled off to watch some surfers and their “chool bus”. Dude.
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Arrived in San Simeon about an hour later and took the bus up to Hearst Castle [LINK]. I learned that being flithy rich can be a good thing. For one, you can buy lots of statues of naked people. I also whispered “Rosebud” to myself throughout the tour. It’s hard not to. Stocked up on some “Hearst Castle Fudge” and headed for Santa Cruz where I was greeted by bad weather and a rainbow. And on a side note that I’m terribly proud of, the XM satellite radio [LINK] installed in my car worked like a charm. Radio reception on HWY 1… who’d of thought?
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I guess he could still fly. Yes I changed the phone number, so if you see our little wayward crow contact me. He’s black, I’m guessin’.
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Her real name is Virginia. She’s always gone by Ginger, but at Imageworks we’ve always called her Virginia. So now she’s pulling a fast one and wants to be known as Ginger. Of course it’s hard for all of us to switch over. So now I always say it really loud and accent the hell out of it. Jinjah. It’s really pretty annoying of me. Until I get used to it I’m going to continue saying it awkwardly. Anyway she’s sits next to me, and because of that, complains that I don’t help her on the Matrix Reloaded Tunnel lighting. Um, you’re look development, not me. I just work here.
Diane Garrett, “Variety” reporter extroadinaire invited me to the Premiere of “Shanghai Knights” at El Capitan theater. Lot’s of press and lights all over the place. Jackie Chan was doing interviews out on the street. Fans were lined up on Hollywood Blvd. We got to walk down the red carpet. Well at least behind all the stars. The after-party was at the Hollywood and Highland Entertainment center and Owen Wilson was milling about. Crystal Bernard was looking old. Jon Voight was sitting upstairs in the corner, and all I could think of was he was depressed about Angelina. That crazy looking guy from the movie “Ghost” who runs around on the subway system freaking out Patrick Swayze. He was there. Vincent Schiavelli. Yeah, that guy. S.W.A.G. for the night included a press/guest badge, chinese takeout boxes with “Shanghai Knights” printed on them, and a banner of my name in some sorta fancy calligraphy. They hired all those guys from the 3rd Street Promenade to do them for free at the party. Not that I would buy one normally, but it was free. I told Diane it was perfectly OK to invite me to any of these she sees fit. Here’s her writeup [
I have these pink roses out in front of my house that keep disappearing. Once they bloom someone comes by and snips them. I’m not sure who insists on stealing my roses, but it might be a closet botanist. Update: This flower disappeared Tuesday.
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