I just learned that my friend and mentor Lars Hansen died yesterday. Which was precisely the day I found him on Facebook and sent him a Friend request. It had been almost six years since I’d seen Lars — I wish I’d sent that Friend request (or an email, or made a phone call), far sooner.
Here’s the obit. I’m going to put more up here today or tomorrow. Lars is someone who was very kind and generous to me, and who really shaped my life and career.
Tonight we’re holding readings from my playwrights’ workshop. Please join us for the readings and a small catered reception afterward. The event is free — and so is the parking, making this a truly special occasion in Los Angeles.
Where: [Inside] the Ford. (That would be inside the Ford Amphitheatre.) The address is 2580 Cahuenga East, Los Angeles, 90068.
When: Tonight at 8 p.m.
What: Readings of
Tattoos (Act 1) by William Young, directed by Joe Gill
Old Dog Blue by Bill Berry, directed by Libby Letlow
Singular of Dice by Ross Tedford Kendall, directed by Vesna Hocevar
Hope you can join us.
It’s almost 1 a.m. and my 11-year-old daughter just came downstairs and interrupted my watching a terrible Kevin Spacey movie about Bobby Darin. The way she charged into the room and then just stood there, I could tell she was sleepwalking.
“I just wanted to tell you something,” she said. “There are these two pieces of driftwood on my bed.”
“Okay,” I said, gratefully switching off the movie. “C’mon.” She went into the kitchen and I called after her while I gathered up the remnants of a late snack I’d had of an orange, some filet, and a glass of shiraz: “Wait for me. Just wait there.” I didn’t want her roaming around the house. I came into the kitchen and set the plate and glass on the counter and got myself some water for my bedside. She waited in the dining area. “Okay,” I said, “You can show me that driftwood.”
We got upstairs and she turned on her bedside lamp and slipped into bed, running her hand over the coverlet to her right. “I don’t know what happened,” she said, feeling where the driftwood had been. I knew from experience that just minutes before, she had seen and felt that driftwood right there. “It was right here.”
“I know,” I said. I turned off her light and kissed her good night. “I’ve had it my whole life.”
Slate recounts how John Edwards kept his affair hidden for more than two years while maintaining his high-profile job hunt. (Ultimately, we hired someone else. Thankfully.) Anyone this devious would’ve been wasted in the White House. Note to spy agencies domestic and foreign: He’s available.
I tweeted this yesterday. Now the LA Times has the story: The Pasadena Playhouse, the state theatre of California, is closing its doors.
Steven Eich is quoted. I’ve known Steve for almost 10 years and have immense respect for his abilities. I also know his love for the artform. Closing the theatre couldn’t have been an easy decision for him or for anyone involved.
Is there hope for keeping it open? I hope so. Whether or not that happens, this is a further reflection on the mismanagement of California, a place where the state theatre is left to buckle and break — just like the schools, just like roads and bridges, just like emergency rescue, just like higher education, just like everything else.
A big thank-you to artists/designers Penny Seechooratana and Lipaz Savion at Counterintuity for the new look of this site. I’m grateful that the long national nightmare of the “design” that I did is finally over.
They’ve been itching to put up something better for a while. What was the hold-up? Me. Finally I told them to just do what they thought would look good, and here we are. I have no idea where they got that photo of me.
There are more improvements to come. (The photo is probably going to stay, though.)
J.D. Salinger wasn’t seen in public again today, a trend that is expected to continue indefinitely.
Yes, I am working on that piece about Stephen King’s book “Under the Dome,” and why you shouldn’t read it. It’s not my intention to write a magnum opus — but I am at 835 words, and counting. The book is so bad, I’m not sure where to stop. In the meantime, please bear with me, and don’t read the book.
I have a MacBook Pro laptop. I have a desktop iMac. I have an iPhone. I don’t need an iPad, but I have to say, this video made me want one.
I’m not ready to leave behind my tactile relationship with books. I am very ready to leave behind my relationship with newspapers and magazines, however. While we preserve books (keeping them, or lending them, or donating them), periodicals are conceived in impermanence (hence their disposability). Although I have been emotionally unable to cancel my daily newspaper subscription, as regular readers of this blog know, I could easily do so with my subscriptions to Inc. and Fast Company and the Los Angeles Business Journal and the San Fernando Valley Business Journal and the New Yorker and Entrepreneur and the Dramatist, because the key feature — portability — would be supplemented by new benefits: reduction in paper and clickability to related material.
Why haven’t I, then, gotten a Kindle? Because the Kindle is solely a reader (and, to a degree, a browser). The iPad is a Kindle with netbook benefits, including email, video, apps, and more. Why carry a single-blade pocketknife when you can have a multi-tool that takes up less space?
Will I get an iPad? Looking ahead, yes — at some point. We all know full well that iPad 2.0 will be released within 12 months — if not sooner. We know this from experience with the iPod and the iPhone. iPad 2.0 will feature 4G. Count on it. That’s worth waiting for. The other thing worth waiting for is the related price drop on the current offering — although I have to say, I was astonished by how low-priced the base model is. Everyone was anticipating Apple to bring out a tablet for under a thousand bucks. I don’t think anyone was expecting the base model to run less than five hundred bucks. As a colleague said today on a conference call, “That’s the end of the Kindle.”
The State of the Union address, as delivered by Steve Jobs.