Well, dear readers, I must write these here notes in a hurry because time, once again, has gotten away from me and conversely, I have, once again, gotten away from time. Damn them, damn them all to HELL. I am not sitting here like so much fish listening to music because it will distract me from the business at hand or, at the very least, business at foot on kneecaps. No, I am here to write some damn notes and write some damn notes I will and I don’t care who knows it. I don’t even care if what or why knows it. Let me start by saying that on those stupidly stupid Reels and Shorts on Facebook I have discovered a whole series of reels of chiropractors cracking people’s necks and backs and shoulders and sides and feet. These chiropractors are very smug when doing these videos. First of all, I can crack anybody’s neck or back with ease – this I have been doing for years to various and sundried people and I’m really good at it. In days of old thirty years ago, I could, in fact, crack every bone in my very own personal body – my neck, my back, my sides, whatever. Of course, I liked it better if someone else did it, but I was fine on my own. I haven’t really been able to crack my neck, back, sides, or anything else save for fingers, toes, and feet. I find that very irritating. Now, what these I’m doing it for views and monetization crackers do is put a microphone clip-on wherever they are cracking – right on the clothes of the crackee. So what you get is LOUD cracking so that the cracker can look in the camera and go, “Wow, incredible.” I’ve had chiropractors before and frankly none of them cracked me like I could crack me. Only once, when I had a really bad pinched nerve, and I could barely straighten up or move my neck did a cracker do a perfect job – cracking my neck so that I could move it again and working on my back and sides – one visit and everything was much better and it was all covered by insurance. Those were the days, my friend, we thought they’d never end. But these new-fangled crackers are something else entirely with their Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube stories – millions of views and I’m quite certain they make more money from YouTube than they do from the crackheads. Is anyone cracking up from reading this paragraph. Is anyone eating crackers whilst reading this paragraph. Are any Crackers reading this paragraph. Is anyone taking crack whilst reading this paragraph? Does anyone know what the HELL I’m talking about?
Yesterday was certainly Saturday, I don’t think there’s any doubt about THAT. I got seven hours of sleep – I was awakened by a text ding and yes, it was one of the annoying ones I so don’t look forward to. I got up, answered e-mails, got tracking numbers for all the book shipments, so they’re all on their merry way. I went to Gelson’s and got tuna and sesame burger rolls, came home and made two count them two tuna sandwiches on said burger rolls turned tuna rolls, and ate them all up – very good, and very filling. Then I sat on my couch and began my viewing.
I went to Freevee and nosed around and found a 1957 TV program called Decoy, about a female police officer – a first for TV, a female police officer who was the leading character in a TV program. The show was a syndicated affair and it only lasted one season, thirty-nine episodes. In today’s streaming thirty-nine episodes would be three or four seasons, that’s how ridiculous it’s gotten. So, I watched four episodes. Not a great show but shot in NYC and with tons of up-and-coming young actors. In those four episodes, we had Barbara Barrie, Phyllis Newman, Lois Nettleton, Simon Oakland and Colleen Dewhurst. In upcoming episodes are Martin Balsam, Peter Falk, Suzanne Pleshette, Larry Hagman, William Hickey, our very own Bill Hayes, Ed Asner, Timmy Everett (filmed while he was playing Tommy Djilas in The Music Man on Broadway), and many others. One of the directors, Stuart Rosenberg, would go on to make films like Cool Hand Luke, Voyage of the Damned, The Amityville Horror, The Pope of Greenwich Village, The April Fools, Brubaker, The Drowning Pool, and other stuff. The production designer on the show was a newcomer named Mel Bourne, who’d go on the be the production designer on little films like Annie Hall, Manhattan, Interiors, Stardust Memories, A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy, Zelig, and Broadway Danny Rose, as well as The Natural, The Fisher King, Thief, Manhunter, Fatal Attraction – you know, small stuff like that. Decoy was his second job – his first was production designer on – drum roll – Howdy Doody. Anyway, the star of the show is Beverly Garland and she’s kind of the weak link. Also, the scripts aren’t great, but it was a groundbreaking show, back then.
Then one of the smoke detectors began beeping, which meant it needed a new battery – I must confess that I don’t understand these smoke detectors at all. I swapped out the battery and it kept on beeping. Same thing happened last time. I finally pushed some button on it, which caused it to beep like crazy – ear-shattering, then it beeped less, then less, and finally it stopped, so maybe that’s some kind of reset button or maybe it just would have stopped on its own, but it was quite annoying.
Other than that, I watched cracking videos and that was about it.
Today, I’ll be up by eleven-thirty, and then I’m attending a matinee at two. After that, I’ll probably go somewhere nearby for a bite to eat, then I’ll come home and gird my loins for this week’s whatever.
Tomorrow, I have to catch up on stuff, and then I think I have meetings and meals almost every day. I’ll have some Zoom thing with David Wechter, too.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up by eleven-thirty, attend a matinee, eat, and then gird loins. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s free-for-all day, the day in which you dear readers get to make with the topics and we all get to post about them. So, let’s have loads of lovely topics and loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, where I shall dream of cracking up.