Thursday, March 31, 2011

Wednesday Night

A few weeks ago, I found a Meet-up Site for Folk Music and wanting something different than the increasingly stupid open mic night I was going to on Wednesday, I got excited about this place and the thought of doing an Irish music jam in a real pub. The first Wednesday was fun, and bunch of people showed and we played together and it was very disorganized. The organizer put up music for the next one the following Wednesday. It rained a bit and the organizer canceled it. Four of showed up anyway. The organizer disappeared- probably done in by pissed musicians. Anyway, so I encouraged everyone to try one more time and we get there to find that the space we were to use is being remodeled. I hadn't thought to call the pub. I assumed if they agreed, they agreed to host it. The manager said he had no where else for us to jam.
All of this wasn't helped by a very large headed blonde hostess told me immediately that we couldn't meet and that I should call Annie. (Who had disappeared.) I had also made plans to meet people for dinner there before jam. Two of the folk that were going to join us stood us up. The waitress wanted to move us to a smaller table, after we sat there for twenty minutes. The food was over priced for what we got. And after talking to the manager it was apparent that he had no plans to accommodate anything. So I went home.
This was our organizer- very cute. I think she didn't get what she wanted so she flaked. Or worse, she's handled by the Irish Mafia and its curtains. Had a nice voice...
I've just contacted a place about starting the group I had imagined. Let you know if it happens.


Tuesday, March 29, 2011

The Beginning Step

Daydee -the outline

Daydee, a forty year old hooker from New Orleans, clicking on her heels on arrival in Paris Illinois in her dated fashionable clothes, off the bus with luggage. Winston, a friendly guy in his seventies who was her mother’s friend, was supposed to meet her, but isn’t there.  She tries to find directions to the apartment building she has inherited. She checks her bags unto a locker and starts out to walk. Winston finds her walking through the downtown.  He takes her to the apartment.
Winston takes her to the local breakfast place in the morning and introduces her around. Preacher, who went to high school with Daydde, is there.  Winston takes her to cemetery to her mother’s fresh grave.  Winston knows The Preacher will run off to see the Lawyer, who was another classmate from the high school- big local football hero.
Winston shows her around the cemetery, takes her by the house and back to the apartment. He takes her to see the Accountant. And then back to the apartment, They rifle all of her mother’s things and find all the paper they can find. Daydee starts to make a list. Winston bows out to leave trying to convince her to leave it all with the accountant to sort out when she leaves. Then he realizes she is not leaving.
He goes to the Lawyer with the Preacher to tell him that she is not leaving.
She has a list of all the properties in the morning. She throws up. (She knows she’s pregnant- this is where the reader finds out.)
Winston takes her out to the farm and the little property with the oil well. She wonders about the farm that her great grandmother owned. They drive by- its being farmed. And the big house- it’s a medical doctor’s office.  Winston tells her what he knows. They go to the deserted house in town and break in because no one knows where the key is. There is evidence that people have been in the house.
Winston takes her with him to visit his Alzheimer wife in a nursing home.
She goes to see the lawyer –because he owns her great-grandmother’s farm now. Is told the story about the murder investigation – the lawyer represented her mother in the investigation of the murder of her father- in exchange for the land.
Winston lies to her about everything at this point.
She is awakened by a bomb thrown through her front window at midnight. Whore is written across the front of her apartment in red paint. 
There is a death for the cemetery in the morning. She must figure out what to do. The Preacher helps her with the opening and closing of the grave. She digs through the cemetery records and realizes the “big” problems.  She finds the removed gravestone that the widow couldn’t pay for.  The napkins of records. The burial vaults sold that don’t exist. She goes to The Accountant for help. It turns out he is not gay as she originally thought, but a TV and married. She trades her indulgence of his fantasies for accounting help. Winston accidently visits and discovers that she is all accepting and begins, later to try to confess all of his sins to her.
She finds her real father living in the bushes by the small property, totally deranged.
She tells Winston about this and it blows the dam. He had killed the man that was buried in Daydee’s father’s grave. Because her mother wanted it and he was her mother’s lover. We learn about the junkie stuff etc.
Daydee tries moving her father into the open shed at the back of the cemetery, but he disappears again. He will not enter a building, so he can’t be brought inside anywhere.
Preacher is opening and closing graves for her. She finds him trying to remove the shovel off of her backhoe and realizes he is trying to make her dependant on him.  She fires him.
In trying to practice with the back hoe, digging around on the back side of the cemetery, she digs up human skeletons. Finds artifact which implies that the dead person was Mexican.
She and Winston go to church where she meets the Preacher’s wife- who hates her on sight. Daydee’s told she doesn’t belong here. Winston is praying more and more, wants salvation for all of his bad deeds.
Lawyer and Preacher hassle him, try to scare him.
Daydee figures out that the Lawyer is using her deserted house for a way station for illegal farm workers coming down from Canada or going up to Canada.
Sheriff useless.  Denies that anything is going on in town. Pick-up truck from the cemetery has the tires slashed.
Lawyer tries buying out Daydee. Offering lots of money if she’ll go away. She refuses.
Lawyer tries to put Winston up to killing Daydee. He refuses- they fight.
Lawyer and Preacher are chasing Winston to kill him- he runs to Daydee and they run to the cemetery where there is a shotgun. In the shoot-out at the cemetery, Daydee learns the truth about why they have been out to get her.  (The three of them gang raped her in high school when Winston was Football Coach and Lawyer & Preacher were players- she was so stoned she has no memory of it. ) Her crazy father appears and distracts the lawyer or stops him and she kills the lawyer. The preacher runs away.
Sheriff called- wants to arrest Daydee since she shot the Lawyer. Winston confesses and is locked up instead.
Daydee’s water breaks at the end and goes to the little Paris clinic to have her baby- She finds her baby in the middle of the night.
 She and baby return to the church. The Preacher does sermon badly. His wife is confused. She confronts The Preacher and tells him he needs to give the sheriff the facts.  She leaves without telling anyone anything.
Something about the Preacher’s flock deserting him.
Winston confesses to everything. Tells the Sheriff all.
Daydee waiting with the baby at the bus station for the father of the child to arrive. He has been prison all this time.  He was an alcoholic, but has tried to reform.

 No Title yet, and these things never never ever turn out like they are imagined at the beginning.




Monday, March 28, 2011

Secret Blog #?4?

There's me in the back at my first Square Dance dance since High School. The other guy almost as big as me is a mathematician from RAND. The caller was doing silly stuff and we were sort of doing a conga line, if you can do a conga line in a square dance. Good exercise. The entire group is older than we are, so it makes you feel young. Or maybe I just think that they are older than we are. I'm still only 22.
Some of the stuff they teach us, requires good engineering skills to pull off.


Friday, March 25, 2011

Stupid Parent Tricks #2

One of the bears was doing AP Art in High School. I decided I needed to discuss "Significant Form" with her and made her cry. Took her out on the back deck at night and discussed how to capture the essence of things. It was really about my own problems I've had with my own ability to paint anything meaningful. I also kibitzed through on a piece of artwork she was working on and added my own twist to it. Never do any of this at home.


And one should probably not read books about the theory of art written by someone who is not an artist.
But what do I know- painting has always been very difficult for me. (I was born with an older brother who had more talent than I did, although he never did anything with it.) This was the bear with the natural eye for "Significant Form."

Thursday, March 24, 2011

The littlest biker

It's funny the way thing turn out. The one that I didn't ever get taught how to ride a bike, is the only one that does it as a grown thing. Hours and trips to different parks and practice and different approaches and none of it worked. And then one day, long after I gave up, she walks out and starts teaching herself how to ride the bike. I need to get her a bigger bike.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The Actor's Studio

Well, I finally hooked up with the guy. Apparently, every Monday might, there is a staged, directed reading of members' plays before a group of writers and directors and you get feedback. And of course this is for very experienced writers with very experienced work and he dropped a couple of recognizable movie director names. I told him I was looking for a group of actors to work with. That I've already passed up a similar group in Santa Monica which was the same concept (thou on a much smaller scale) and the play has already been work-shopped with writers. Actually I did belong to a group that met over in the valley very similar to the concept but finally gave up because they were a bunch of idiots with nothing much to say of value about my stuff and you were expected to appear every week, if you wanted to see your stuff done once a month. At that rate, you might finish one project in 5 years. I told him I would pass.
Onward.